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hyunnows · 6 months

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A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL | YJI

In which Jeongin watches you chase after Seungmin over and over, waiting for his turn to have your heart.

PAIRING(S) | Jeongin x reader, Seungmin x reader

THEMES | angst, fluff, unrequited love (two of them), best friends to lovers, high school!au, best friend!Jeongin, lots of background characters, based on a love so beautiful (inspired by both versions), embarrassing and slightly humiliating scenes, crying, heartbreak

WORD COUNT | 10k+

RATING | pg

NOTE | I’ve been working on this for so long, I don’t even know why it’s taken so long. Literally like a third of Sugar Sugar written in 10x the amount of time. Anyway, I love the dramas this fic is based on (especially the k ver bc the main lead was more likable imo) and I really hope I did this au justice. Alos, its not meant to be a direct copy of the drama, more like inspired by a few episodes/scenes (you'll be able to tell which ones if you've seen either version of the drama). Anyway, I would like to thank my beta reader @that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick, thank you so much for your help, I really did find all your feedback useful <33333 i hope you all enjoy this! Love you all, ty for all the support <3 have a great day/night!!

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“Hey, Seungmin~!” you call in a singsong voice, cheeks tinted pink as the tall, quiet boy stares at you nervously.

“Hey [Y/N]…”

Shuffling closer to his ear, you gesture for him to lean down so the other surrounding students wouldn't hear. When he does, you cup a hand around your mouth and whisper. "I like you,” you giggle softly as you back away from him.

Seungmin scratches his neck awkwardly. "No offense, but I don't like you…sorry.” His face drops as he rejects you in the kindest, bluntest way.

“O-oh,” you rub your arms as you giggle again. "It's fine!” This time, your bright smile dims, and nobody notices how it doesn't reach your eyes.

Nobody other than Jeongin, that is.

Jeongin can see how there's no crinkle beside your eyes or nose as you play your confession off, laughing with Seungmin in an oddly offbeat way. He notices how your shoulders are slumping more now than when he'd encouraged you to confess, and how your head hangs as you shuffle back over to him.

“So…?”

You frown, biting your lip to hold back your tears. Jeongin doesn't need any more confirmation than that to pull you into a tight hug. He caresses your head as you blink away your tears, an artificial smile on your lips. "It’s fine, I just have to win him over!”

He frowns but bites his tongue. You can’t help who you love…

And neither can he.

He sighs, "Okay then, but don't be upset when it doesn't work out,” eliciting a shove from you that makes you smile softly as the light fades back into your eyes.

——

“…and one teaspoon of pure vanilla extract,” Jeongin finishes reading to you, swinging his legs lazily back and forth as they dangle off the counter. He watches you with adoring eyes as you rush to find the vanilla extract, hastily measuring it and mixing it into the cake batter with big eyes. He pretends you’re his girlfriend, scrambling to make him a treat for a date—but as the tangy citrus scent fills his nostrils, it's hard to stay in his trance. He doesn’t like oranges that much, but Seungmin does—and that’s who the orange upside-down cake is for.

You spoon the batter in dollops onto the oranges in the cake pan, doing your best to evenly cover them without disturbing their positions too much. And once you’ve smoothed the top—as Jeongin had directed you—you’re baking the cake, pulling it out fifteen minutes later to check its consistency and rotate the pan, fully concentrated on your self-assigned task.

Jeongin continues his loving gaze, taking in your messy flour-covered bun and shirt, butterflies filling his stomach at the view. Something about the dim, warm lights and your adorably focused pout was making his stomach do flips—although it always did that when he was with you.

When the first cake burns, he offers to help, smiling dumbly to himself every time your hands accidentally graze each other’s and mixing badly on purpose so you’ll come and help him. It’s a wonder how you manage to miss the endless flat-out doting grins he gives you.

“If you keep putting the icing on my nose, we're going to run out of it for the cake,” you giggle every three words as you swipe it off.

He flashes you his braces, leaning closer to you as he dots another glob onto your nose. "Oops, I did it again,” he teases, not minding what he’s sure is a prominent blush on his cheeks every time you playfully push his chest.

It's only when you're handing the cake to Seungmin that he wishes the whole scenario had never happened, because you two are blushing, and everyone around you is cooing (although he takes the wish back quickly because it was one of his favorite memories)...before being disappointed when he kindly rejects the cake after a quick spoonful, claiming to be full.

“I know he just didn't want to embarrass me because I'm a horrible baker, but it still hurts,” you mumble against Jeongin’s shoulder, your thumb tracing the outline of the cake box you'd bought earlier. “It must taste awful…”

Jeongin takes the box from your hands gently, pulling a fork from his pocket—don't ask—and stuffing a large bite into his mouth. Truthfully, it wasn't the worst cake he’s ever tasted, and knowing you made it with your own two hands during that wonderful afternoon with him that ended in cuddling on the couch and watching baking shows… oh, he’s prepared to scarf the whole thing down.

“It's not bad [Y/N], look,” he says, taking another bite and wiping a bit of the caramel onto your nose fondly like he'd done that afternoon, “If he doesn’t want it, it's his loss.”

You flush as he asks to have the entire cake, and of course, you say yes. Honestly, if Jeongin liked it, that was enough. At least it wasn't going to waste.

“Hey! Stop putting the cake on my nose!”

——

Your tongue peeks out your mouth as you put all your attention on the beads and clear string in your fingers. “Innie, can you help me pick the bead colors?”

“Sure, but doesn't that take away from you making it?” he says bluntly as he taps his cheek and stares at the different hues of beads organized neatly in Hyunjin’s jewelry-making box. “Red and orange.” His newly freed pearly whites sparkle at you in the natural sunlight.

You scrunch your nose. “I was thinking of a color palette with more purple tones, y’know, because Min likes purple,” you mumble, unaware of his downturned lips at the mention of the older boy's nickname.

Nevertheless, he's your best friend, so he thinks hard on what would look good with purple, picking out a dull blue and a brighter one, along with a glittery and a glossy purple, deciding it's all worth it to see your dazzling smile. He carefully picks them out in even groups, holding your hand in his as he pours the beads with his other hand, noticing how your breathing gets caught in your throat for a second when your palms connect.

“Thanks.”

“Anything for you,” he whispers, not daring to say it loud enough for you to hear. His eyes disappear in his gleeful expression, his mind in a delightful daze at the thought that maybe he had some effect on you. You wonder if he can see the blush in your cheeks, but shake the thought away when you realize his attention redirected to cutting his own piece of string, picking out pink, blue, and white beads that he laces quickly and strategically. By the time you've managed to thread barely half of your—Seungmin’s—bracelet, Jeongin’s already tying the knot on his. He stretches it gently to check durability, then tugs at your wrist gently to slip it on, a small sun charm dangling from it.

In reality, he's just not the type to say such things and do such actions at the same time—he’d much rather tease you—so he puts on a fake serious face and shrugs. “It's nothing, I just didn't want you to pick something ugly.”

Your cheeks warm, smacking him as you whine for a moment. You bring your arm to your eyes to admire the pattern, smiling and hugging his neck happily. "You're the best friend I could ask for,” and he grins back, satisfied with the position.

“You're the best,” he whispers under his breath, quickly making a matching necklace for you to wear. As he pulls the craft onto you, his cheeks warm at the feeling of your neck just grazing his fingertips.

With a teasing smirk, you eye him happily. “Did you just say something nice to me willingly?” A giggle interrupting you with every other word as his cheeks tint brightly.

“And it's never happening again.” His face in his hands as he tries to tame the blush on his face.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before you both burst into laughter, you're hopping over to pull at his face-fat teasingly. “You're secretly a sweetheart, aren't you, Yang Jeongin? You probably say nice things in your head all the time,” drawing embarrassed groans and weak attempts at pushing off of him whilst he laughs, blissfully.

He groans, “I don’t,” trying to sound serious while you pinch at his cheeks.

Your hair perfectly frames your face as it tickles his, an almost halo effect outlining your figure. He doesn't know if it's just him, but all he can see is you, everything else dimmed out into the background as his eyes rest on only you.

Then you pull away, laughing, with a look he has grown tired of seeing in your eyes when you look at him.

Friendship.

——

You’re bright and bubbly when you slip your gift into Seungmin’s desk, excited to see him sport a [Y/N]-original accessory and hopefully fall for you.

Unfortunately, fate had another plan.

“Sorry [Y/N], I’m not really a jewelry guy…” Seungmin trails off, handing you back the box you’d given him earlier that day, all the bracelets inside and bundled. He tries to ignore his friend’s snickers, rubbing his neck nervously whilst handing you the small cardboard box, cheeks red in embarrassment.

You take it with two hands, barely gripping it at all with your shaky hands and blurry vision. They were laughing at you, and he didn’t like the bracelets. A quiet, "Oh, o-okay,” is all you manage to get out, biting your lip harshly as you tuck your hard work away. "Sorry.”

Seungmin gives you a guilty smile, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs, giving you an awkward wave, and running back to his group, who tease him loudly about you. He cringes at their jokes, hiding his face from you and walking away.

You think you should be crying by now, seeing as he rejected you, but you’re more ashamed because not only was Seungmin embarrassed by being around you, but his friends seemed to think you were a joke as well. How mortifying.

You hear a shuffling pair of feet approach you before you’re wrapped in the long, strong arms you call home. “They teased him and laughed. Laughed, Jeongin…” your voice shrinking in sadness. You turn to him, eyes watering. "Am I that unlikable?”

Of course, Jeongin tells you no. "You’re the most likable person I know,” in a reassuring, uncharacteristically sweet whisper. You sigh, causing him to hold you tighter to his chest. "They just… they need glasses,” evoking a light snort from you.

Turning into his chest, you wrap your arms around his waist, drawing an “Ew,” from Jeongin, although he had been the one to initiate the hug in the first place. You mutter a shut up at his faux disgust. After a tight squeeze, you release him, pulling out the now squished cardboard and handing it to him, a light tint in your cheeks as your hands brush against each other’s. “What’s this?”

“He, um, isn’t into jewelry, so I thought you could have them. They’re too big for my wrist, and I’d hate to waste Hyunjin’s nice beads,” beaming hopefully at him. You open the box, pulling out your favorite and sliding it on Jeongin’s wrist, blind to the pure puppy-love expression the brunet was giving you. Cringing slightly, you frown at the fact that you hadn’t even asked him if he wanted the bracelets. "You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to—”

Before you can pull it off him, he yanks his hand back, holding around the bracelet tightly. There was no way he wasn’t going to wear a bracelet you gave him. Granted, you’d made it with the intention of Seungmin wearing it, but he’d take what he could get. "I-um, I’ll wear it. It’s a neat bracelet,” awkwardly releasing his wrist and dropping it to his side.

“Neat?”

“Leave me alone. This is why I’m not nice to you,” he mutters, face flushed red.

You feel your heart flutter, but you assume it’s out of general happiness and not the fact that Jeongin wanted what you’d made. It wasn’t as if you wanted Jeongin’s approval or anything—you cared about Seungmin’s because you like him, and you definitely didn’t like Jeongin.

Then why aren’t you able to stop the way your heart quickens around him these days?

——

Jeongin isn’t the most talkative, especially when it comes to girls. Despite that, here he is, spilling everything he feels about you to Chan and Hyunjin. He’d explained the bracelet when they’d originally asked, and somehow he’d ended up in a rant about how lucky Seungmin was to be the target of all your affection.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Chan asks, confused. Crushes couldn’t be that difficult, it should be even easier when you’re their best friend, right?

Hyunjin stares at Chan dramatically, causing the elder to lift his hands in a sort of confused surrender. "Are you serious? You don’t just tell your best friend of four years—who’s already in love with someone you agreed to help them win over—that you’re in love with them!I swear, it’s like you’ve never read a book.”

Shrugging in uncertainty, he elaborates his former opinion. "It’s just, this all seems way too serious for a high school crush. And anyway, don’t you tease [Y/N] all the time?” Making Hyunjin roll his eyes.

“It’s his first love, it’s very serious!” Hyunjin argues, sweeping his luscious blond locks to the side. "And he teases her because he likes her! Plus, it’s not like he can stop, and it wouldn’t be weird, he’s always teased her. I’m ninety-eight percent sure she likes it.”

“Okay, since Love Expert Hyunjin seems to have all your answers, I don’t think I’m needed for this anymore,” the shortest sighs, standing from his seat on the bleachers and onto the field for some soccer. Chan may love Jeongin like a brother, but he’s not the best option when it comes to love advice.

Jeongin stares at the field, watching you as you cheered for Seungmin in the street-style free for all soccer game, wishing you were half as enthusiastic when he was participating. “I don’t want to try to win her over or anything, being her friend is enough… I just wish she’d dedicate herself to someone who cares for her at least as much as she does for them. I bet Seungmin doesn’t even know her favorite color…”

Jutting out his bottom lip in a pity-filled pout, Hyunjin soothes his hand on Jeongin’s back, nodding in understanding. "Y’know, she’s really lucky to have someone like you to always be there for her,” and he genuinely means it. He’s seen how gentle Jeongin was with you, even if he used a teasing front because no matter what, Jeongin’s always at your beck and call. You two could have just argued, and Jeongin would be the first to apologize and make sure you were okay, not expecting anything in return. His love was admirable and pure, and you got it all. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Jeongin nods, frowning as you hug Seungmin, making the boy cringe and gently shove you off. He wonders how Seungmin could so easily brush off your love, jealous and wishing you would hug him like that. He might jokingly shout “Yuck!” but he knows he’d hug you back even tighter.

——

“[Y/N], I don’t like you back.” Seungmin didn’t mean to sound so mean, but you’d once again smothered him in front of everyone, flustering him for the last time. Even as you began to tremble and tear up in front of him and everyone else, he stood his ground, keeping a stern face. "I tried really hard to let you down gently, but you seem to have missed the hints. Please stop giving me gifts and hugs and asking me out. I don’t see you that way.”

Blinking back your tears, you nod, hiding your beet red cheeks behind your hair and staring at the ground. Taking back the scarf you’d crocheted with your own two hands, you hug it to your chest, pressing it against your thumping heart in the hopes it would calm down the erratic beating. When that fails, you try to block out the murmurs from bystanders, and run for your home, your safe place.

While your best friend was never keen on you trying to make someone love you back—not when he was waiting patiently in line—he’s never wished you listened to him more than he does now

Jeongin’s surprised to see you outside his door, knowing Seungmin had baseball practice today, and because it was beginning to sprinkle. Regardless of your damp attire, he pulls you inside, hurriedly running to get you a towel. "What are you doing here? It’s starting to rain, and it’s cold as heck out there!” His concern raw, too lazy to try to mask it with a joke. "Are you crying?”

You throw your arms around his neck, cheek pressing against his strong yet soft chest as you nod, your tears dripping into his shirt. “He… he rejected me in front of everyone. He said he didn’t like me that way, and then asked if I would leave him alone. I made a fool of myself,” your words becoming incoherent as you squeak through your snivels.

He clenches his fist tighter with each weep, and he’s sure that if you weren’t holding him so tightly, Seungmin would be six feet under by now. But since comforting you is more important than whooping some scholar-soccer player—not that he could do much damage, the boy’s six centimeters taller than him and he plays sports—he cradles your head as gently as he can with one hand and pets your hair with the other. “He’s an idiot.”

“No, he’s not, I am. I don’t know why I thought I had a chance…” You sniffle, shaking your head against him.

Jeongin tilts your face up to look at him, frowning at your glistening cheeks and shushing the voice in his head that’s going on about how you somehow managed to look beautiful even though you’re heartbroken. “Don’t say that, you’re amazing,” uncaring about how he’s probably the color of that ugly sweater Seungmin’s older brother somehow managed to rock.

You can’t bring yourself to believe his words completely, but the fondness in his eyes makes you want to because you knew Jeongin wasn’t the type to throw words like that around. Still, you nod, hoping you could one day be worthy of those words.

——

Jeongin jumps when you slam the papers on his desk in front of him, a bright smile on your lips as you eagerly wait for him to ask you what you’re so excited about. He raises a brow, and you point frantically at the papers. “The school play? What about it?”

“I want to sign up for auditions!” You cheer, making jazz hands at the announcement. “They’ll be doing a romance play based on a student’s submission. I heard it’s really good.” Your best friend gives you a concerned look, forehead creased and mouth pursed. Well, that’s not the reaction you were hoping for when you told him. “Why are you making that face?”

Sighing, the black-haired boy stares up at you. “It’s just… are you sure you want to audition?” When you nod happily, he has no choice but to play the role of supportive best friend. “Okay, I’ll cheer you on.”

Your teacher comes in before you have the chance to elaborate on your idea, scolding you for not being ready for his class and eliciting a bit of laughter from your classmates—minus Jeongin, of course.

Your teacher seems to be on the same page as you, though, pulling out one of the fliers. “Today we’re holding auditions in the auditorium during lunch, drama period, and after school, as well as staff signups. Anyone who participates in the school play’s production gets extra credit. If you have any questions, see me or the drama teacher after class.”

You shoot Jeongin a knowing look that he returns with a confused pout. He doesn’t know what’s up your sleeve, but he’s sure it’ll end badly somehow.

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. You definitely had a scheme up your sleeve, and this wasn’t the desired outcome of your plan, but Jeongin wouldn’t necessarily file it as a ‘fail’.

Originally, you planned on auditioning for the lead female part, while Seungmin would take the lead male, a part that everyone wanted him to play. You two would play as lovers, and eventually Seungmin would fall for you too and everything would be sunshine and rainbows. That was the plan.

You knew that you needed someone to audition with, since they were allowing pairs to audition, and you already knew Seungmin would most likely refuse to audition with you. That’s why you brought Jeongin along. You hoped they’d see your star talent and recruit you to the cast while telling Jeongin he just didn’t make the cut—which he’d be fine with, once he understood your plan. That’s how everything was supposed to go down.

And somehow, everything is going according to plan.

You auditioned with complete confidence, and you did well. Acting’s one of your talents—not that you had an abundance of them, you just had a knack for pretending to be different people and characters—at least, you thought so.

Mr. Kim—the drama teacher—reads the casting aloud, so far, Seungmin got the lead male, Jeongin was cast as a random villager, and now it was your turn. “[Y/N]... you’ll play villager three and be in charge of the music…”

He continues to read out everyone else’s parts, but you can’t hear him. You didn’t get the part? But you did so well, right? Why didn’t they pick you?

Jeongin watches your crestfallen face, sighing inwardly because he knows nothing would be worse for you than watching Seungmin pretend to be utterly in love with another girl. He knows why you didn’t get the part, but he also knows that you put your all into that audition because you wanted to be Seungmin’s partner, so he feels bad. After all, his feelings for you only made him wish for you to be happy, and being the lead would’ve made you happy. Still, he can’t help the tiny bit of relief he feels because you won’t be playing the part of Seungmin’s lover.

Someone hands you a recorder, you don't know who, as well as a sheet with different sound effects and songs for you to gather listed. Great. Not only do you play an unimportant side character, you're also in charge of putting together the romantic soundtrack and sound effects. Why did these things always happen to you?

“Don't worry [Y/N], we can have fun getting the songs and music together.” Jeongin smiles comfortingly, just enough to ease your stress, but you’re still upset at today’s outcome. Sensing the irritation in your stature—the way you furrow your brows and chew your nails are dead giveaways—the boy sighs, pulli by you along with him to collect a script. “Besides, it’s not the end of the world, there will be another play in a few months anyway.”

You nod, but honestly, you’re too bummed to pay him any real attention right now. Jeongin, sighing inaudibly, picks up your backpacks and pulls your sulking figure along towards the school’s exit.

Pouting, you lean your head on his shoulder. “I thought I did so well…”

The brunet ruffles your hair affectionately, giving you a small smile. “You did, it’s their loss they didn’t pick you.” His words make your lips quirk up.

Turning to face him, you lift a brow at him. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Carry your own bag,” he mumbles, handing over your backpack with an amused grin dancing in his lips.

You pout again, only this time there’s joy in your eyes instead of disappointment.

Something about that smile makes you feel better.

——

“You must tread into the woods, find your true love, and ask for her hand. She’s who you belong with, your hearts destined to become one. Now forget about that other miller’s daughter and begin the journey!” You read, trying to put some sort of passion into your voice, but you can’t. The only lines you have pertain to Seungmin finding his love and marrying her, while forgetting about the poor second lead who you couldn’t help but relate to. And just to rub salt in your wound, you have the golden line. “Kiss her, and make her your wife. You have my blessing, to have a long, lovely marriage and life.”

Jeongin claps for you from your bed, his long limbs sprawled across the mattress. He doesn’t have any lines other than quiet repetitions of your words—for dramatic effect, but he doesn’t care too much for them anyway. Extra credit is extra credit, right? “That was great [Y/N], but you really should start recording the sounds and music. They’re going to want them for rehearsals.”

You slump, nodding. You needed to recreate horseshoes hitting the ground, birds chirping, water running and the crumpling of leaves, and then download the songs the production team had already chosen. How fun.

“Jeongin, grab those rocks and that rug for me please.” He nods, reaching for the two large stones as you start muttering, upset. “Why do I have to bless their union though? Out of every part I could’ve gotten, I had to get the part where I encouraged Seungmin to marry another girl…” You groan more, shutting up only to record the rocks hitting the rug in an offbeat pattern to mimic horse hooves.

Jeongin rolls his eyes, because you only have to encourage Seungmin’s character, while he has to support you every time you scheme to get the older boy to fall for you. It shouldn’t be a competition, but he can’t help but feel that his situation is a tad worse.

——

“[Y/N], where’s the audio recording? We need it now!” Hana, the girl in charge of putting the music and sound over the play, calls urgently. The play’s about to start, and because of your constant sulking, you only just finished recording everything.

Luckily you still have about ten minutes before the play begins, so you’re safe from being scolded. “Sorry, here it is.”

She takes it from you happily, readying it in a way you don’t exactly understand—hence why you aren’t one of the techs—and sending you off to get into your costume.

The play’s going smoothly, everything’s in order and running perfectly. You’ve said your lines, Jeongin’s said his and Seungmin is absolutely killing his role. And then your voice booms through the speakers.

“Why do I have to bless their union though? Out of every part I could’ve gotten, I had to get the part where I encouraged Seungmin to marry another girl…”

The familiar statement falls upon the crowds shocked ears, and you feel all color drain from your face. That…that recorded…?

Your drama teacher glares at you, murder bright in their eyes. You can almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

The crowd erupts into laughter and boos when the echoes of your words finally fade from the auditorium. All the staff and students behind the curtains are staring at you, some pitying, others angry and some disappointed. But that isn’t the worst of it.

Someone in the audience spots you hiding behind the curtain on the east wing, “Hey! [Y/N] that was you, wasn’t it? You must really be in love with Seungmin, huh?”

You loudly shush him, hoping he’ll stop and the play will continue peacefully, but the odds aren’t in your favor. Someone behind you shoves you onto the stage, and you’re suddenly in the spotlight, frozen in front of dozens of people laughing. Your friends and teachers stifflong their giggles at your pathetically embarrassed state.

You want to stand up for yourself, tell them to shut up and put their pointing hands away but you’re too mortified to do anything as a stray tear escapes your eye and your lip trembles. You’re hardly able to scramble off stage, muttering dozens of apologies to everyone watching.

It’s hard to even be upset when all your mind can think of is Seungmin’s face of embarrassment—shame, because of you.

It’s not long after the fiasco Jeongin finds you crying in a storage closet, and he shoos off some students who are teasing you far too much for his liking.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He asks gently, kneeling in front of you to see your face that’s hidden in your knees. You nod, burying it further and wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. He can’t help but think you look adorable so small, but he’s more focused on comforting you.

Pulling off his jacket—he remembers how much you always say you love his clothes—and taps you with it. You don’t notice at first, but after he pushes it against your shoulder a few more times, you slowly peel yourself out of your [Y/N]-cocoon. Your face instantly lights up, just a bit when you catch sight of his jacket and you don’t hesitate to wrap yourself in it and scoot over for him to seat himself beside you on the step stool.

He takes the spot, and you immediately lean on his shoulder as his large, lanky arm wraps around you in a comforting embrace. “You wanna talk or just stay here quietly a bit longer?”

“Just stay quiet for a bit…” your shaky voice mutters, heavy eyelids struggling to stay open.

The storage closet opens again, only this time Seungmin stands in the doorway, face blank and eyes void of anything other than disappointment.

He lets out a deep sigh before mumbling quietly. “Why do you ruin everything? Couldn’t you put your feelings aside for once and get your job done once? You embarrassed us both, all because you have a stupid crush on me. I told you I’m not interested, get over it, please.”

Jeongin’s about to open his mouth, fed up with Seungmin’s ass of an attitude toward you when you kick the door closed, shoving Seungmin out so you can sob into the younger boy’s sleeves in peace. You don’t want to see him, not now. You don’t really want to see anyone.

Except Jeongin.

——

“You need to apologize to her,” the shorter male demands, feet making squishy sounds with every step from the wet grass he chased Seungmin through. Jeongin may not always be the most affectionate or sweet friend, but he’s your best friend for a reason and he’s determined to keep you happy at all costs. Which includes making Seungmin apologize for his harsh words after the play.

The older boy rolls his eyes. “Why should I? I was giving honest, helpful criticism. Plus, she’ll get over me faster if she hates me.”

Jeongin has no clue why you like him so much.

Seungmin seems just about done with this conversation, turning to walk away, when he hears Jeongin huff under his breath. “And here [Y/N] said she liked you for your kindness. I don’t know where she got that idea from, you’re obviously a jerk…”

Seungmin doesn’t care about people’s opinions of him, but something about Jeongin’s word choice (specifically the word jerk) strikes a chord in him. .

Which is how he finds himself in front of your door, Jeongin beside him with a semi-smug look as the older boy knocks on your door.

“Who—Seungmin…? What-what’re you doing here…?” You shrink slowly, not in the mood for more insults. Not to mention that you’re just a bit traumatized from last week’s fiasco and that you’ve been skipping school to avoid the mental and emotional torment you’re sure is to come.

He feels genuinely bad when he notices the tremble in your lip whilst you slide the door closed just a bit more to hide behind it. Handing you an envelope, he bows. “I’m sorry about what I said [Y/N]. I didn’t mean to be so rude and insensitive. There’s a longer apology in the envelope, feel free to read it or throw it away. Have a good night and come back to school soon. All of your classmates miss you.”

You doubt that last statement a bit. As far as you know, the whole school hates you, but you appreciate the idea that someone missed your presence. You give Seungmin a small bow and mouthed thank you just before he leaves. For the first time, you think he genuinely smiles at you. It's small, but real.

Rushing Jeongin inside, you melt against the door, clutching the envelope to your chest. “Did Kim Seungmin just… apologize to me…?”

In all the years you’ve known Seungmin, he’s never been one to apologize. He’s usually not in the wrong, so most of the time there’s no need for him to. Still, on the rare occasion he is on the wrong side, he almost never takes the initiative to own up to his mistakes. He’d much rather let time do its thing and wait for the incident to blow over and be forgotten.

So you can’t help but feel both shocked and even a bit special to have a written apology from the brown eyed golden boy.

Jeongin nods triumphantly. “Yep.” He wants to tell you that he’s the reason behind this, but he can’t ruin the way you must be feeling. If thinking Seungmin apologized completely of his own accord made you happy, then he’d allow you to believe that.

As long as you’re happy, Jeongin doesn’t really care about anything else.

However there are times when he wishes he could put his own feelings first.

Slowly since the play, Seungmin had accidentally begun to sneak into your friend group. Suddenly he hangs out with you and Jeongin during lunch. He’s in the library with the two of you, making sure you’re actually studying. He’s even invited the two of you out to eat and hang out a few times over the past three months. It should be odd—the way he wormed into your group, but it happened so gradually that by the time either of you had noticed, he’d become part of your duo-now-trio.

So it’s only natural that when your annual trip to Chan’s lake house rolls around, you invite him.

While Jeongin’s fine with Seungmin—there are times where they seem to have been best friends since birth—he can’t help but feel almost possessive of the time he’s supposed to have with you. As much as he hates it, he knows Seungmin will effortlessly steal that time from him.

“So you’ll come?” You giddily ask the taller boy, bouncing on the heels of your feet.

Please say no. Please, please, please say no. For once, Jeongin wants Seungmin to reject you, wholeheartedly too. You do it all the time, don’t make this different!

The older boy thinks for a moment, typing something into his phone a moment before it lights up again, and nods silently with a small, almost unnoticeable grin. Flashing his screen, Jeongin realizes he’d been asking permission—which unfortunately, he was given.

Fantastic.

Don’t be fooled, since the incident, Jeongin has come to find that Seungmin is actually a great guy and wonderful company that he thoroughly enjoys on most occasions. They’ve completely warmed up to each other. But he knows that you’re still utterly in love with Seungmin, maybe even more than before, and he doesn’t think he can stand being around you two in a casual setting for more than a few hours.

Still, he bites his tongue. If you’re happy, he’s happy.

At least that’s what he tells himself during the car ride whilst you stare in awe at the older boy for most of the ride, trying and managing to convince him to let you sleep on his broad shoulder. He repeats this in his head over and over during the board games you all play where you beg Seungmin to let you be in his team—which he grants you after a bit of friendly teasing. By dinner time Jeongin has a headache from the mantra, almost disgusted by just watching you feed the sophomore by spoonfuls. He’s ready for bed before nine-thirty.

However, his plans for sleeping—and evading Seungmin and you—are halted when Minho—a mischievous friend of Chan’s—decides to play some party games. You all play twenty questions, an age-appropriate few rounds of never have I ever (Chan and Hyunjin would have your heads if you or Jeongin were exposed to any sort of adult materia) and now you’re playing a game of secrets.

Everyone gets a strip of paper and a pencil for them to write their secret on. Once everyone’s done, the strips are put in a bowl, mixed around, and picked out at random. You can’t tell anyone what you wrote or picked from the bowl, regardless if it's your own secret.

Somehow it’s simultaneously harmless and filled with potential drama. You give props to Jisung (Minho and Hyunjin’s friend) for bringing up the game, so long as you pick Seungmin’s secret.

Though it’s not exactly a secret, you haven’t confessed to Seungmin since before the incident, and you think you’ve been subtle about your feelings since then, so you pick that as your secret. In your tidy handwriting, you spell out “I’m in love with Kim Seungmin.”

Beside you, Jeongin contemplates what he wants to write for a moment longer than you do. He can reveal anything he’d like. That he’s jealous of Hyunjin’s height, that he actually looks up to Changbin more than he’d like to admit, that he failed his last English quiz, or that…

He likes you as something way more than friends.

He’s sure about half of his friends already know, and that Seungmin is probably suspicious of it, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. And plus, they’re anonymous… So what's the harm?

He ponders his decision a bit more, before essentially saying fuck it and professing his feelings for you with a short, “I have a crush on [Y/N].”

After about another minute or so, all the paper strips are stuffed into a glass bowl Jeongin thinks looks an awful lot like a fishbowl, and mixed around violently by Han. Then, everyone reaches in and pulls out one strip each.

You can’t contain your curiosity, immediately unfolding the strip and reading its contents. Your eyes widen and you struggle to hold in your gasp of disbelief.

Your cheeks burn as you reread the sentence. “I have a crush on [Y/N].”

Too focused on the secret you picked, you fail to see how Jeongin’s soft smile of excitement falters into a slight frown. Your handwriting spells out: “I’m in love with Kim Seungmin '' on the slip of paper in his hand.

After he’s done reading his strip, Hyunjin reminds you of the rules. “Okay, nobody can say anything about the secret they got, okay?”

You all nod, but your eyes gravitate to Seungmin, who seems oddly calm compared to the rest of you. You don’t blame him, he probably got something boring—or your confession. The only reason you’re so excited is that you’re pretty sure you got his proclamation of love.

Yet, in the back of your mind, I can't help but think that the handwriting doesn’t look like Seungmin’s.

——

“I got my own,” Seungmin pulls out the piece of paper from his backpack, handing it over to you with a shrug. “Why?”

As you read “I’m tired of school” in Seungmin’s handwriting, your brain strains to find an explanation as to why you just convinced Seungmin to break the game’s rules and show you his secret. I thought… “Oh, I was just curious!”

As always, he shrugs it off.

If it wasn’t Seungmin… then who was it? It couldn’t be Chan, he’s too brotherly, and Hyunjin is always talking about who he’s in love with that week, you would know if it was him. Which leaves you with only one person you can think of.

Jeongin.

To be honest, you wouldn’t be mad if Jeongin had a crush on you. But if he did, you couldn’t return his feelings.

Right?

You think back to all those times your eyes have locked with his, when you’ve ignored the pounding in your heart at the slightest graze of his touch. You can’t deny he’s the one who can always make you feel better, no matter what. That you would rather sit and argue with him then go have fun with someone else.

To be honest, you can’t exactly say you’re not in the same boat.

But, he’s your best friend, he couldn’t have a crush on you. You flush as you try to reason with yourself. There’s just no way. Plus he likes—

You stop. Come to think of it, you’ve never known Jeongin to have a crush on anyone. He’s never once confided in you about girls. “Maybe he just doesn’t like anyone…” you mumble, thinking of reasons why he can’t possibly have a crush on you.

“Who doesn’t like anyone?”

You jump at the sound of Jeongin’s voice. “N-nobody!” you internally slap yourself at your stuttering.

He doesn’t seem convinced, but opts for being concerned more than curious, “Why are you so jumpy?”

“I-I’m not,” you protest, trying to sound calmer. It seems to fail though, since he quirks his brow in confusion at you.

With a shrug, he continues walking beside you towards your house. “You’re weird.”

“And you’re mean,” you scoff, immediately forgetting why you had–in fact–been so jumpy only moments before. However, it's not too long before you are reminded of your tiny predicament when his eyes sparkle in amusement and your heart stops momentarily. “Hey Jeongin, what secret did you pick from the game the other day?”

You notice him slump over a bit, “I got yours. Unless someone else in our group has a crush on Seungmin,” the glint in his eye diminishes. “Why?”

“It's just… I think I got your secret…” He freezes up besides you, a tinge of pink in his cheeks you fail to see as you stair at your toes. “Do you have a crush on me, Jeongin?”

Clenching his jaw a few times, he panics. Think brain, think. He stands there awkwardly for a moment. “I-”

Cutting him off, you start apologizing, “You don’t have to answer that, actually. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot–I get it if you’re mad at me too, since you know I like Seungmin–” Some quiet chuckles leave his lips, making you stop in the middle of your words, confused. “Why are you laughing?”

He ruffles your hair, pushing you playfully. “You think I would write a real secret there? No way. I just thought it would be funny if Hyunjin were to get that one and start some rumor or crazy quest to find out which one of us had a crush on you.”

Your shoulders drop from their tensed position as you relax, beginning to giggle a bit at the thought of the gossiping teen losing his head in order to find out just who had a crush on you/ Even if you didn’t know him well, everyone knew Hyunjin was a huge drama queen who always needed to know everything about everyone. “Oh that makes so much more sense!”

Ignoring the pain in his chest that your apparent relief brings him, he keeps his small smile displayed for you. “So that's why you were all anxious. You’re so odd, [Y/N].”

You glare at him, pushing his shoulders jokingly. “You really are mean, you know that?” Eliciting a gentle laugh from the boy. He shrugs, continuing his path beside you to what he assumes is your home.

He can’t help but wish he had written something different on that paper, though. Maybe then, his chest wouldn’t ache so much.

And secretly, you wish it was a real secret. Maybe then, you wouldn’t feel like you’d been tricked.

—-

Jeongin finds it hard not to notice the way you’ve started retreating from Seungmin these days. As your best friend, the one who was always there to help you in your plans to win over the upperclassmen, it's impossible to not realize how you haven’t asked for his aid in such schemes. It's almost concerning at this point, the way you haven’t attempted in a month or so to woo the older boy in any way.

He doesn’t mind though, not at all. In fact, he’s enjoying watching you spend your time on your hobbies and making new friends rather than pining over the boy who had broken your heart so many times.

“Hey, can you help me take these papers to Mr. Young’s classroom?” Seungmin stops at your desk, staring at you.

Since finding out the paper wasn’t Seungmin’s, your feelings for him have slowly dimmed. Over the last few weeks, everything you felt for him just dissipated. He doesn’t like you back, and now, for some reason, you don’t seem to care too much about who or what he likes anymore.

However, that doesn’t mean your attention hasn’t shifted somewhere else.

“I’ll help.”

Your head shoots up to look at Jeongin, who’s already standing up and grabbing half the stack of papers, bringing the rest of Seugnmin’s face into view. “Can you watch my food for me?”

You nod at him as he walks out of the cafeteria with Seungmin. The silence between them is awkward, but not too awkward. They enjoy each other’s company enough to get along. However, with your odd behavior towards Seungmin, the two haven’t hung out much.

The walk is quiet for a while, until Seungmin says, “Why did you stop [Y/N] from answering me?”

Jeongin shrugs, “She didn’t look like she wanted to. Why? Do you like her now?” he says less than playfully, failing to hide his disapproval if Seungmin did indeed like you now.

“No, I don’t like her like that. I was just wondering if you were trying to keep her away from me since you like her,” the older boy tells him nonchalantly.

Jeongin almost drops his stack of papers at that, “What?”

With a slight eye roll, Seungmin continues. “You like [Y/N], don't you? Even if you say no, or don’t answer, I know you do. It's obvious. It is kind of weird you helped her ask me out so many times though.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Right,” the older boy sighs, “We’re here.”

After dropping off the papers, the two have a silent walk back, both of them uncomfortable with the energy in the hall. Jeongin couldn’t stand the thought of Seungmin playing with your heart, not again.

Before the two reenter the cafeteria, Seungmin places a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder, holding him to a stop. With a sigh, Seungmin starts, “I consider us friends, and as a friend, I’m rooting for you. [Y/N] was never right for me, and I was never right for her, but I think you two would be right for each other.”

The older boy releases him, pushing through the metal doors and joining your small circle, leaving Jeongin with his thoughts.

And his thoughts agree with Seungmin.

—-

“Did you hear? The school chose another romance novel to base the play off of!” You cheer in excitement as you set your school bag under your seat. “Maybe I can get the lead this time, I think I’ve improved a lot since last time.”

Jeongin looks at you as if you’ve grown a third head, plopping down into his own desk. “Why do you want the lead? Do you think Seungmin is going to play the male interest?”

He ignores the little green monster that rages at the thought.

“What? No, I just want to be the lead, maybe redeem myself since last time I messed up so bad,” you flush. “Hey, you should audition too! It would be cool if we were both in the play!”

“I don’t think so, I’m not really into acting.”

You pout at him, shaking his arm as you plead, “Please Jeongin, please please please–”

“Fine! Stop whining like that,” he huffs, pulling his arm away from you. You gleam at him, making him roll his eyes with a gentle smile. “What a dork.”

You stop smiling at that, launching towards him, “You jerk!”

Just then, Ms. Lee walks in, a scowl on her face at your figure lurched over Jeongin’s desk. “[Y/N]! Sit down right now young lady!”

You hear your classmates–including Jeongin–snicker at you. He makes an L with his fingers under the desk at you, making you glare at him. Silently, you mouth, I’ll get you back for this.

He mouths back, Sure you will, like the menace he is.

Once again, reading your mind, your teacher begins the class announcements with the play. “We’re holding auditions later today in the gym during your lunch period and after school. Please feel free to audition, those who do will be exempt from the next pop quiz.”

Jeongin watches from the corner of his eye as you hunch over your desk, scribbling something down, then pop up again. Snapping, you get him to look over at you and see the message written messily on your notebook. “You could really use an exemption from a pop quiz…”

He sighs, grabbing a sticky note from his notepad, and writing back, “I already said yes, stop bugging me.” (He doesn’t actually want you to stop, he would prefer if you never stopped bugging him, actually.)

You stick your tongue out at him with a grin, turning back to face the teacher.

It's not long after that lunch time rolls around, meaning you’re dragging Jeongin away from his friends.

“Where are you two going?” Hyunjin asks, a far too devious smile playing on his lips.

“We’re auditioning for the play!” You smile, to which the older boy’s eyes sparkle.

“I wanna watch!”

Jeongin groans at the three voices, he really doesn’t need Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all watch him embarrass himself. “Too bad. If you guys come I won’t audition.” At that, they all groan, sitting back down on the lunch bench with frowns on their faces.

——

“Jeongin, I got the part~!” You all but sing, looking at your lines highlighted in the script. “How about you?”

He purses his lips, ears slightly red. “They gave me the lead.”

You stop in your place, staring at him wide eyed. “You mean, we’re going to play lovers?” He nods. “Oh…”

“I can take back my audition if you want–”

“No!” You stop him, a bit too quickly even, “It's fine! It's just acting,” your face as red as his at the thought of playing his love interest. You’re just friends–best friends–and it's just a play, it shouldn’t be that weird. Right?

Wrong. So wrong.

You both can’t help but feel so stiff around each other as you rehearse your lines. Chan, Changbin, Seungmin, and Hyunjin can’t help but be oh so entertained by your awkwardness. Seeing the two of you bright red as you stumble over your lines to each other is just gold.

“Stop recording us!” You frown with red cheeks at Hyunjin, who’s phone is pretty much inches from your face. “Hyunjin c’mon.”

“No can do, you two are so cute,” he wipes a fake tear, putting a dramatic hand on his chest, “They grow up so fast.”

You all stare at him like a madman. Then, Changbin counts down backwards, yelling action for you and Jeongin to start the scene from where you messed up.

“I can be fun, if you want… pensive, uh, smart, superstitious, brave, and uh, I could be light on my feet,” he pauses, staring at you intensely, a nervous–but sweet–smile dancing on his lips, “I could be whatever you want. You just tell me what you want and I’ll be that for you.”

Jeongin tries not to think about how true that is.

With a lightly contemplative look on your face, you recite the next line. “You’re dumb.”

His smile grows as he nods, “I can be that.”

You mirror his expression as you turn around, skipping away and pretending to get into a car as he calls behind you. “C’mon, one date, what’s it gonna hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” you tease in an almost sing-song tone.

His smile falls a bit, as he stands there looking disappointed, “Well what can I do to change your mind?”

“Guess you’ll figure something out,” you grin, silence filling your ears for a moment before Changbin loudly yells cut!

They all praise you two’s acting skills, Seungmin included–though his praise is much less enthusiastic than that of the others. However, you don’t pay any of them much attention, your gaze fixed on Jeongin as your mind replays the way he’d looked at you just moments before.

You almost wished this wasn’t a play, but try not to think about it too much as you ready for the next scene.

——

You know your best friend is good looking–everyone does, it seems. Every rehearsal, there are students hiding in the back row of the school’s theater trying to catch a glimpse of his acting. You’re thankful for Hyunjin, who dramatically shoos them out of the room whenever he catches them.

It's not that you don’t want people watching the rehearsal, it's just…

Why are there so many girls with crushes on Jeongin?

It shouldn’t bother you, really. He’s just your best friend but even he is starting to feel the energy shift whenever someone comes up to talk to him. He doesn’t want to get any ideas, but he doesn’t deprive himself of enjoying your attention.

He watches as you shuffle over to Hyunjin in exhaustion after thirty minutes of the same scene, laughing as the boy fawns over you theatrically, giving you water and a pillow to get comfortable with. It's comedic the way you two have grown closer recently, Hyunjin seeming to take the role of your mother almost.

Needing to get away from the dark room and hot stage lights, Jeongin sees himself out, getting a drink from the water fountain. Straightening up, he leans against a post, silently reading over his favorite scene–not that he would ever admit that he had a favorite scene. He can’t help but imagine you telling him what you want in your home, saying you wanted to be a part of his life like that.

Doing this play, it's not good for his heart.

He heads back in for rehearsal not too much later, finding it too easy to get into character.

Maybe it's the way you look into his eyes as you practice your lines, or how cute you look flustered saying these romantic words to him of all people. Whatever it is, it's really, really not good for his heart.

Or yours.

——

“Hey [Y/N]!” Jeongin calls after you, his jog slowing to a walk as you turn the corner too quickly for him to reach you. It seems this is how you two are now–Jeongin tries to talk to you, you run away from him before he can.

He wonders if it's because of the play–specifically, because of the kiss scenes he’s sure you're dreading.

He didn’t think you would be so worked up about it–it wouldn’t be your first kiss, or your second, or even third for that matter. But you’ve been avoiding him like the plague since the last time you rehearsed the scene, the two of you staring at each other intently rather than kissing since it was just rehearsal.

Maybe doing this play was a mistake, he thinks, frowning to himself. A few moments later, a large, thin hand rests on his shoulder, and he meets the eyes of his personal cupid, “What do you want?”

“Well that's not how you should greet your big brother,” Hyunjin whines with a pout. He chooses to dismiss the younger boy’s you’re not my big brother, instead opting to talk about the real reason he sprinted after Jeongin. “So, how are you feeling? The play is next week, when you’ll finally kiss your true love.”

The shorter teen chokes on air at Hyunjin’s words, filled with embarrassment. “Be quiet!”

“Sorry! But really, how are you guys? I’ve noticed [Y/N] dodging you like she dodges her vegetables.”

Jeongin shrugs, “I don’t know. I think auditioning was a mistake, it's probably too weird for her, especially since she doesn’t like me like that.” He completely misses the look on Hyunjin’s face, continuing, “I’ll have to apologize after the play I guess.”

The taller boy facepalms, stepping in front of the freshman, “Don’t apologize–it's not your fault. Plus, that’s weird.”

Jeongin wants to argue, but decides against it ultimately, nodding in agreement with Hyunjin’s words.

——

“What do you want?” Jeongin stares at you intensely, leaning against the cardboard car behind him. “What d’you want?”

You shake your head vigorously, tears in your eyes, “It's not that simple!”

He interrupts you, his voice more stern than the last time he uttered these words to you, “What. Do you. Want?” Lip quivering, you watch him ask you once more. “Damn it, what do you want?”

Eyes filled with emotions and tears, you finally get out a weak, “I have to go.”

The set workers are quick to cover the stage as they change the set to show you talking to your character’s fiance as Jeongin hides off in the wing, watching your incredible performance. He doesn’t know how, but you really did develop a talent for acting since the last play the school put on.

Soon enough, you’re by Jeongin’s side, the two of you watching as the teachers playing the older versions of your character play out their scenes beautifully, bringing everyone–especially Hyunjin–to tears with their performance.

“You did a great job, really,” Jeongin mutters, almost too quietly for you to hear him, but you do.

You grin at him, “Has nice Jeongin finally made a reappearance?”

“Nevermind, this is why I don’t say nice things to people,” he scowls, turning away from you, only to be stopped by you turning him back to you. “What?”

“Do you want to get something to eat with me after this?”

He’s confused, flustered, and excited if he’s being honest. But he keeps up his nonchalant attitude and nods. “Sure,” fighting the tender expression ghosting his face at your happiness.

After a few minutes of watching the final scenes, everyone emerges from the stage wings, taking their places beside one another, Jeongin and you in the center as the leads. Joining hands, you all bow, taking in the praises from your parents, classmates, and anyone else who watched the play. Then you’re dragging him to your bikes, the two of you freshly out of costume, still sweating from the under-conditioned theater you had just stood in for hours.

“Do you even know what you want to eat?”

You nod, beginning to pedal down the street towards the small food stand that always lingers by your school–a student favorite. You’ve already ordered two corn dogs, waiting by the stand as Jeongin pulls up. “What are you? Some secret speed cyclist?”

“Maybe,” you hand him his corn dog, “Can we go sit over there?”

He follows your finger to look at a lonely bench underneath a tree that's only a few meters away, a small, dim lightbulb just barely illuminating the area. “Are you sure? What if there are spiders?”

“Stop trying to scare me and move your butt,” you command, strutting forward to the bench. He follows with a sigh, dragging his feet and bike behind you.

As the two of you eat in silence, Jeongin finds that he doesn’t agree with Hyunjin’s advice once again, speaking up awkwardly. “I’m really sorry if the kissing scenes were weird for you, I tried not to put a lot of pressure or anything into them, if that makes you feel better.”

You cough, laughing at his awkward apology. “It's fine. Don’t worry about it,” your words are muffled by the food in your mouth and your laughter–which triggers some sort of embarrassment in your best friend.

“Why are you laughing at me? I’m obviously nervous and apologizing because I thought that’s why you were avoiding me, and you’re laughing,” he can’t hide the bit of irritation in his voice, or the pink hue covering his face as your laughter grows, “And you’re still laughing. Why are you laughing at me?”

Taking a few deep breaths, you turn to him, “It's just, I was avoiding you because of the kiss scene, but that’s not the only reason why,” a weird grin on your face, “I spent so long, ranting to you about one guy who kept rejecting me, and there I was, unable to face you because we had to kiss for a play. And you’re apologizing for it, even though you didn’t even know if that was why. It’s just really funny seeing how this all turned out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you in a second, if you tell me something first,” you lean towards him, a strange glint in your eye, “Yang Jeongin, do you have a crush on me?”

He starts genuinely tweaking at that, choking on his food, chunks flying out of his mouth from the sheer and utter shock of your question. “What? Why are you asking me that?” He coughs again, his face becoming a shade of red that rivals that of a strawberry, “What the fuck why can’t I stop coughing?”

“I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t think you would start dying if I asked you!” You apologize, rubbing his back and offering the half-drank bottle of water in your bag. “I just needed an answer!”

“Why?”

“Answer and I’ll tell you why!”

“Why do you need to know? You’re so weird sometimes!”

“Jeongin,” you pause, hands on his shoulders as you look him directly in the eye, “Do you like me?”

He avoids your gaze, closing his eyes and mumbling an inaudible yes.

“I can’t hear you~!” He mumbles it slightly louder.

“I still can’t hear you,” you tease, your hands still on his shoulders as you push them back so he has to look at you.

“I’m not doing this. You heard me and you still didn’t tell me,” he groans with a pout in his voice, “And you say I’m the jerk.”

You laugh at his aggravation, finding it hard to take him seriously when he looks like a red crayon threw up on his face. He gets up from the space beside you, sitting on his bike and getting ready to ride home when you come up beside him.

“Hey,” you say quietly, making him look at you. You hold in the urge to laugh at his annoyed expression. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s obviously fed up with being embarrassed for one night. With all your courage, you whisper,

“I like you too.”

"I like your eyes, you look away when you pretend not to care I like the dimples on the corners of the smile that you wear I like you more, the world may know but don't be scared ‘Cause I'm falling deeper, baby be prepared" ― Translation from Ysabelle's English Cover of "I Like You So Much, You'll Know It"

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armysantiny · 1 year

Text

-[ skz; inviting their crush to the gym/swimming pool and noticing their crush’s other tattoos when he walks out shirtless

Minnie's notes; god this became a monster of its own creation lol, for some reason I kept making each one longer and longer- this was fun!

Bang Chan | 방찬

You and Chan go swimming after gym fairly regularly together, so logic says that Chan shouldn’t be surprised when he sees you shirtless – he lives with three other guys, two of which share his relaxed outlook about walking around shirtless. He’s seen most of your tattoos as well. This is normal for Chan.

What isn’t normal is the heat rushing to his cheeks when you pop out of the changing rooms – shirtless – asking if he has a spare shirt you can borrow because you forgot yours. No, Christopher Chan Bang doesn’t have a crush on you that’s been bubbling away for weeks.

Absolutely not.

“Hyung..? You okay?” Ohoho, was that a new tattoo on the small of your back? When did you get it done? Why does he want to run his hands over it?

“Uh— yeah, yeah…I’m fine~ I’ll grab it, don’t move y/nie~” Hopefully you didn’t notice him sparing a second glance to admire your new body art. And the bright red blush on his face.

Lee Minho | 이민호

Minho enjoys going to the gym with you; you’re a motivational workout buddy, funny, are eager to try whatever food he makes afterwards, and did he mention that he’s fascinated with your tattoos? You look fucking amazing, in his humble opinion.

No he isn’t a little fixated on them, shut up. And no, his ears do not become red when he catches a peek of your tattoos – especially your pecs – when you’re sweating after a workout.

What do you take him for? A schoolboy with a crush?

Okay, maybe he has a crush on you. Sue him. You’re attractive as fuck (his words) and a great person; what was he supposed to do? Not fantasise about those arms?

So when you crash at his dorm after a late night gym session and pop into the living area to ask him if you can borrow a shirt – while entirely shirtless, in front of the others – his ears are bright red. His gaze fixes on the new tattoos across your chest and he malfunctions in real time, ignoring the kids staring at his reaction.

“Just— just pick anything you want.” Did this man just stutter?

“Sure thing hyung~ thanks!”

Seo Changbin | 서창빈

Changbin met you at the gym and the pair of you immediately hit it off. You admired his commitment to working out and staying in shape, and Binnie couldn’t help but be fascinated by how sweet and soft you seemed in comparison to the sheer number of impressive tattoos you have.

So he’s not exactly surprised when he finds himself infatuated with you. What can he say? Changbin is a confident man, and he knows what he likes. And it just so happens that you are exactly his type.

He’s a bashful admirer, your Binnie.

So when he invites you to go swimming with him and the other members on a day off, don’t be surprised when you catch Changbin gazing at some of your newer tattoos with a blush on your face. Perhaps forgetting to pack a spare shirt for the pool wasn’t the worse mistake you’ve ever made. As for the man himself, he’s going to want to hear all about his crush’s new body art. Quite delectable body art, if I might add~

Hwang Hyunjin | 황현진

Frankly, it’s a miracle that you even met Hyun at the gym to begin with, that man avoids the place as often as he can. And can you blame him? He lives with 3Racha after all, that’s enough gymbro energy for him. But yes, you end up meeting Hyunjin at the gym, while you’re doing some light weights and he catches sight of your partial sleeve and the top of your chest tattoo through your vest. During a conversation while you’re spotting him and he finds out you’re his hyung, it’s settled.

New muse acquired.

For days afterwards, Hyunjin’s sketchbooks and canvases are full of tattoos, imagery and artistic rendition of you all from all your consequential outings together after your initial meeting.

And like the hopeless romantic that Hyunjin is, it takes him little time to fall for his newest muse. His art becomes more and more romantic (if possible) and there’s more reservation on his end because Hyunjin now wants anything he makes for you to be absolutely perfect. It’s for you, of course. His y/n hyung.

When you invite him swimming over the summer, Hyunjin quite positively loses his mind over some of the newer tattoos he sees across your chest and abdomen while you’re looking for the shirt you packed. Ever the tits man that he is, Hyunjin can’t help but give your newly tatted pecs a loving squeeze – with your permission of course. I give this man around five days before he confesses his feelings lol.

Han Jisung | 한지성

Between you and me, I would be a dirty liar if I didn’t think Jisung was immediately infatuated with the ‘buff tattoo guy’ at the gym (as he so excitedly tells Chan) the first time he spots you after you finish a set and reach for your water bottle. A cute smile, sick tattoo sleeves (his words) and an impressive set? Social anxiety be damned, Jisung makes it his mission to get closer to you, which he does, to his credit. Soon, he’s calling you ‘tattoo hyung’ as a joke and he has some eye candy to forward to when he joins you at the gym.

And by all means, the buff chipmunk is adorable, so you indulge him when he jokingly presses his face between your pecs. They’re comfy, sue him.

Until it’s starting to get obvious that there are developing feelings between the pair of you.

So, without telling Sung outright you fill out your tattoo sleeves just that little bit more, get some art done on your abdomen that may or may not be inspired by the rapper himself. Taking his invite to go swimming with him and some of the other members, you show off the new body art to a very infatuated Han Jisung.

You may be going home with a boyfriend, that’s all I’m saying.

Lee Felix | 이용복

Meeting Felix feels like it was fate, in my honest opinion; you were working on your arms, and Lix was getting his rehabilitation exercise done. As luck would have it, he asked you to spot him, the two of you start talking and you left that gym session with a new friend and Felix’s number. And soon enough, your phone is buzzing every other hour with a text from Mr Buff Sunshine about everything from how his day went, to workout advice, to spamming you with memes.

It's cute, and 100% part of the reason you consider getting some sun-inspired tattoos across your chest. Perhaps even a few quotes you’d seen his fans talk about on twitter.

Felix decides to have some fun with you when you and Felix make plans to head swimming, because your ‘swimming top’ as it were, is now nowhere to be found. Go figure.

“Hey Felix?” What seems like an innocent move on your part – asking for a t-shirt – clearly is lost on the Australian in question. There are new tattoos on your abdomen. Rather fucking hot ones, in his humble opinion; and Lix’s face is burning red.

Lord above, could you be any more attractive? You do eventually get one of Felix’s shirts, that suspiciously look like the one you were missing, but between you and me…Felix is more than happy to have you shirtless.

Kim Seungmin | 김승민

I’m genuinely more impressed by the notion that you met Seungmin at the gym of all places. Granted, it was by the treadmill, and he was pacing himself at a brisk jog, but my point still stands. Talking to you becomes his new ‘kill time’ card, and it doesn’t take many of these particularly amusing gym sessions for numbers to be exchanged and for Seungmin to start asking about your numerous tattoos. He saves you in his phone as ‘y/n – cool tattoos~’, deeming you the newest subject of teasing and some awfully aesthetic food pictures. Courtesy of Minho’s cooking, of course.

And while your friendship blossoms, and you begin taking tattoo ideas from Seungmin, something warm and fuzzy starts making its way into Seungmin’s heart. He doesn’t hate it.

But he would rather be caught stark naked than admit he has a crush on you. So his fondness is translated through more frequent texts, more emojis and asking more and more about your day.

And inviting you swimming, of course.

Thanks to your own genius, you had left your spare swimming shirt at home and resorted to asking around for a spare shirt you could borrow. Giving Seungmin the perfect view of your newest tattoos. On your sculpted abdomen.

I think you’ve broken him.

Yang Jeongin | 양정인

You should thank who or whatever possessed Jeongin to actually start going back to the gym, because you stumble into him on your way out from the changing room. Don’t get him wrong, he was a little intimated at first; you’re hot, have some impressive body art, and you’re muscular? Cut him a little slack here.

He does see you again, however Innie picks up the courage to talk to you, and it turns out the two of you have quite a lot in common. Perfect! Instead of spending his whole time of his time with his headphones on, Jeongin spends his break between sets talking to you, his dimples on full display the entire time.

You have now gained the title of cool hyung. Congratulations.

His fascination with your tattoos bleeds into something more romantic, and Jeongin finds himself itching for the days to speed up so the swimming outing you two have planned comes by faster. At least he gets to fill his time by hanging out with you in your tattoo studio.

Praise to everything holy – and Jeongin’s patience – the day of the swimming outing finally arrives, and Jeongin is buzzing with excitement. The weather is great, the venue you’re going to has good food places nearby – it’s perfect.

“Jeongin-ah, have you seen my swim-shirt?” Well, perfect if you ignore the fact you forgot your swimming shirt. Which leaves your new chest tattoo on full display for Jeongin to marvel at while he helps you go in search of a t-shirt to buy.

Yes you saw him blushing. No you aren’t going to bring it up unless Innie says anything himself.

You hope he does though.

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crispy-chan · 2 years

Text

A Song of Ice and Fire

❝ they say the crimson king is as ruthless as the freezing winters of your land...❞

𓏲 PAIRING. prince!minho x princess!reader (ft. guard!jisung x reader)

𓏲 GENRE. fluff, angst; royalty!au, fire-bender!minho & ice-bender!reader, historical drama, action, romance, love triangle/forbidden romance, arranged marriage!au, subzero!au

𓏲 WORD COUNT. 35k

𓏲 WARNINGS. language, mild violence, minho is a jerk at first, cliche asf, mildly suggestive, a brief allusion to assault (but it's stopped before anything happens), blood, injuries and tending to them (i am not a doctor), food, mentions of war and famines, poison, mentions of death, reader gets carried around and has hair that can be put in a ponytail, petnames, includes the rest of skz as various people (TV-14)

𓏲 SUMMARY. when you agreed to marry the prince of the crimson clan in order to sign a peace treaty, it feels like your entire life is crumbling down in front of your eyes. forced to move to another kingdom, you're afraid of being shackled in a loveless marriage. minho's reputation precedes him, and the stories you've heard aren't exactly great. yet the seemingly perfect kingdom has many secrets, along with a dark history that goes beyond anything you would've imagined...

𓏲 A/N. ot related to GoT at all!! just liked the title lol. inspired by the webtoon subZero. this is just a flaming pile of garbage lmfao - i started this fic back in july but i only got like 1k before i gave up. then, i recently picked this story back up since i didn't want to give up on it. a lot of effort went into this, but i recognize that this story isn't perfect. i came to a realization of how much i despise my writing style while i was writing this :<. i'm a tad bit afraid that only like two people will read lol but oh well, we shall see :) on a lighter note, i really hope you enjoy and please don't forget to lmk your thoughts as i'll literally jump with joy :> side note: the reader comes from the azure clan but the royal guard is caled the cerulean guard.

𓏲 SPECIAL THANKS TO. @luvseos for beta reading the prologue-ish part, tysm!! (also, i'm so so sorry i am not able to tag you so i assume you deactivated :( ) @hyuukais and @kurosism for going over the first part of the fic! thank you guys a lot and i really appreciate all of your nice comments and suggestions <3 big thanks to @sw1mmingfoolz for reading through the first part! thank you for all your sweet comments :> and @celestialgyu for going through the entirety of this. I was nearly gonna start crying in the dms tysm <3 @seung-scrittore oh my god leo you are a savior for going through this entire monster!! thank you! i can't stress it enough how grateful i am <33 i really appreciate it :< also sorry for having to correct shitty typos and my malfunctioning grammar lmfao @chaninfused furat thank you for listening to my rambles as i was losing it on main lol. it was really nice and helpful talking to you, especially as your (self proclaimed) no 1 stan lol. also shout out to your arab prince! minho cause i'm still on the agenda and i can't deny i thought of him while writing this. go read danse macabre for some quality prince!minho (and great plot) @choihaiyun for the amazing banner idea/creation <3

MASTERLIST

The night was coated in inky darkness, thunder rumbling outside your window.

It was a cold winter night, heavy snow coating your entire kingdom like a blanket. Loud arguments echoed through the room, various voices from both sides unable to reach an agreement.

You weren't surprised—it was a tough decision to make on your part, or rather, on your uncle's part. The men from the Crimson clan appeared in your kingdom a few days ago with an unexpected offer: a peace treaty. After many years of war, your entire kingdom was in ruins and it came to no one's surprise that your uncle jumped at the opportunity to finally end the conflict that had been going on for over a century.

That was, however, before he had heard the details of said treaty, and after finding out what the last requirement was, he was about to turn it down at lightning speed.

That's when you suddenly stood up, dusting the imaginary specks of dust from your finest gown—the one you were ordered to wear tonight.

“Enough!” you shouted over the loud voices in the room.

Everyone, both your people and the people of the Crimson clan, immediately turned their heads towards you in surprise, not expecting such an outburst from the crown princess. You'd been silent the entire meeting, choosing to keep quiet and let them talk, but you'd had enough. Everybody was speaking over you, arguing over your future like it was some sort of commodity; nobody even bothered to ask you what you wanted.

Taking a deep breath, you finally whispered, “I agree to the marriage.”

. ˚✧・* •

flashback

“A little bit tighter,” you said to Mina, your maid, who was tightening your dress from the back.

It was currently almost five o'clock and you had a meeting with some officials from the Crimson clan in about fifteen minutes.

To your utter surprise, it was them who first reached out to you on forming an alliance. The war had been going on for over a hundred years and your clan was on the brink of extinction.

Pushed back from the mainland, most of your colonies and settlements now laid offshore on secluded islands in the north.

Your once prosperous nation was now a shell of its former self, ridden with poverty, famine, and death.

To put it simply, the Crimson clan massacred your entire nation and left it in ruins.

Every day, you awoke to the howling of hungry citizens who were freezing in their little cabins with nothing to eat, nothing to do. The war had left its imprint on your nation and if you didn’tdo anything soon, nothing would be left of the once prosperous clan.

You fiddled with your sleeve nervously as you walked down the hallway, both Chan and Jisung right behind you. This was a major meeting and they'd rather be found dead than not accompany you on such an important day. The three of you had been through so much growing up side by side, and they were the only people you could consider friends.

Sweat was beginning to line your forehead as you nervously stopped in front of the grand entrance.

Jisung immediately rushed to hold the door open for you and you offered him a grateful nod, taking a deep breath before you entered the den of lions.

Lifting up your dress slightly, you bowed down to the visitors before taking a seat by your uncle.

Ever since your father died in the war, he was the one to temporarily rule the kingdom until a new ruler would arise. Despite his rather meek and quiet nature, he tried his best to be a strong and dependable leader for your people. Unlike your father, however, he was never a good strategist so he left most of the tactical details to Chan—captain of the Cerulean guard and his right-hand man.

The thin cushion you were sitting on proved to be rather uncomfortable after a full hour. During this time, Felix—the general and minister of foreign affairs (and the crown prince's cousin)—unrolled a scroll handed to him by one of his servants. The fiery red emblem of the Crimson clan shone on the creamy piece of parchment, making you feel even more stressed than you thought was possible.

As his slim fingers worked to crack the seal, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat. This tiny piece of paper would determine your future, along with the future of your entire kingdom.

And despite the Crimson guard arriving with words of peace, you couldn't help but stay alert. You felt uneasy as you watched the cunning man's lips tug into a smirk, reading the terms and conditions.

“Lastly, due to the unusual grounds for the treaty, the royal court requires that the Crown Princess is to be wed to Crown Prince Minho, effective immediately.”

. ˚✧・* •

A thick silence engulfed the three of you as you sat in the carriage, too stunned to speak. Or at least you were. The consequences of your words weighed down on you like a heavy blanket, enveloping you in darkness from which you felt as if there was no way out.

Turning your head to your two most loyal men (and friends, of course), you couldn't help but notice how tense they were. Chan, always one to put others before himself, tried to mask the unease but you saw it clear as day in his eyes.

He was afraid.

Meanwhile, Jisung didn't even bother to hide his emotions. A scowl was painted across his pretty lips as his hands clenched into fists. He was staring out the window, almost as if he didn't want you to see the burning rage in his eyes.

A sigh left your parted lips as you fixed your gaze on the village you were passing by. All the people seemed to be happy, the roads were clean and flowers blossomed from every little garden. It only reminded you of how little your people back home had.

You felt a pang of guilt in your heart.

I failed my kingdom.

You weren't able to protect your land. It was a sad realization, but it was the truth. It was the reason you had agreed to be shipped off to Crown Prince Minho as an appeasement gift in the first place. It hurt your pride, there was no doubt about that, but it was your duty.

Not because you were a brave princess ready to do anything for her kingdom. The thought of fleeing came across your mind several times, however, there was a bitter reason why you never even considered it an option.

You had nowhere to go.

Your entire land had been occupied by the Crimson Guard for over two decades now. Not to mention that anywhere you'd go, you'd still be recognized as the Crown Princess of the Azure clan. There were probably hundreds of people who wanted you gone, and if you ever set foot in the neighboring kingdom without an official treaty, you were as good as dead.

You've heard lots of things about Prince Minho.

And honestly, they weren't that great. Quite the contrary—the word around was that he was an unimaginable brute, bitter from the loss of his older brother whom he loved dearly. You winced at the thought of having to meet the man.

You've never met him personally—not many people have—but stories of his staggering beauty traveled to your kingdom too. They say his eyes are as sharp and cunning as those of a dragon and that if you look into them for too long, you'll get burned.

Clenching your hands by your side, you sighed, perching your head against the glass as the demons of sleep slowly overtook you.

. ˚✧・* •

“Y/N, wake up!” you heard a hushed whisper as someone lightly shook your body. “Y/N!”

With a gasp, you shot up, hurriedly looking from side to side. “It's okay, Princess, it's just us,” Jisung murmured in a low voice, the voice he used only when talking to you. As the familiar tone reverberated in your head, you released the breath you were holding, placing your hand on your chest to calm your erratic heartbeat.

“S-Sorry, Ji… just another nightmare…”

“Don't worry, I'm here,” his hand slid down your cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

Jisung's serious tone made Chan snort, shaking his head at the two of you and the obliviousness you both possessed. The boy looked at you with adoration and love, like you held the Milky Way in your eyes, while you never said anything, presumably not realizing how deep his feelings for you ran.

Or perhaps, Chan had it all wrong and you loved him back… he couldn't be sure, however, that would be even worse. The three of you were about to enter the Crimson palace, the land of the enemy, to offer a treaty. Your entire land's future relied on how well the deal would go, how merciful would the Crown Prince be. There was no way in hell Jisung would knowingly risk the future of your country by getting chummy with you, who was supposed to be wed to him, the Prince, as an “appeasement gift” of sorts.

Chan never really understood the whole royalty schtick.

Sure, he was a royal guard (the captain, in fact) and it was his duty to protect the Princess, but when he was a young teen who just started out at the academy, he had no idea of the inner workings of the palace.

He wasn't aware of all the things that were done behind the curtains, all the hushed deals, and secret affairs. However, most of all, he never would've expected to see you, the little girl whom he knew since she could walk on her own two feet (or rather waddle, to be precise), be wed to someone like Prince Minho.

Nevertheless, the man couldn't help but scoff, a small smile appearing on his lips, despite his best attempt to hide it.

Ever since he was a little boy, Jisung had this sense of duty and obligation to protect you. He was closer to your age than him, so it was natural that the two of you were closer with each other than you ever were with him. Or perhaps it was too natural.

With a light thud, the door to your carriage opened, and a young guard held out his hand for you to take. Ignoring the glare Jisung shot the poor boy, you gladly accepted his hand, slipping your gloved palm into his and walking down the steps till your feet were securely on the ground.

Upon stepping down, you were immediately taken aback. The Crimson Palace was simply divine. The humongous building extended as far as the eye could see, offering a horizontal view of the ancient-looking (but well kept) structure. Despite wanting to appear proper and lady-like, you couldn't prevent your jaw from dropping in awe.

“This is… wow,” you whispered, tongue darting to moisten your lips.

Your throat suddenly felt very dry.

It was then that you noticed how warm the climate was. The surcoat with the traditional fox-fur lining began to feel heavy on your shoulders and you realized that for the first time in years, you actually felt warm outside.

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice murmured in your ear, tugging on your sleeve. “Do you think it's him?”

You didn't have to even ask who Jisung was talking about. A cloud of worry washed over you as you immediately straightened your posture, expecting the Prince to appear from behind the swarm of guards to welcome you.

You were left disappointed though, as the person who emerged from the crown wasn't the Prince. Rather, the man that came forward was one you recognized immediately.

He was the one who came to your kingdom prior to your arrival. Felix was his name, if you recalled correctly. The pleasant smile he showed you when he was in your homeland was gone and instead replaced with a sour expression that did nothing but show his distaste for you.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you clenched your hands in worry, momentarily allowing your gaze to drop down.

“Why's he the one greeting you?” Jisung spat out, standing in front of you protectively as if attempting to shield you with his own body. Chan too stepped in front of the two of you, hand immediately reaching for the sword by his side as if preparing for the worst.

“Where is the Prince?” he spat out lowly, his voice audibly dropping an octave. Usually, this would result in the opponents quivering in their boots. Chan could be a scary man when he wanted to and he wasn't afraid to unleash his more deadly side if it meant he would adhere to his duties.

Alas, it seemed like this trick wasn't enough to scare the Crimson soldiers.

A mere chuckle left general Felix's lips as he gestured for the men around him to disperse. Once the soldiers weren't coming directly at you, Chan stepped away with a sigh, recognizing that you were no longer in imminent danger.

Unlike Chan, however, Jisung never left the spot in front of you, his hand still protectively wrapped around your waist. The glare he was giving the Crimson Land's general was pretty intense if you'd take into account that the man was several ranks higher than him and could obliterate the three of you with a single snap of his fingers.

“Jisung!” Chan whisper-shouted from next to you, tugging his younger friend's sleeve. “Stop it.”

The boy shot another nasty glare, this time in his captain's direction, making his eyes widen. Chan was about to yank him from his position when suddenly, your voice rang through the air, clear as day.

“Jisung! I appreciate your concerns, however, I need to meet with the officials of the Crimson Land. Don't forget that we're the guests setting foot in a foreign kingdom.” Your eyes met over his shoulder. Then, with a softened tone, you continued, “I'm gonna be okay, don't worry.”

Maybe it was the strong imploration in your eyes, but Chan suspected that it was more likely the fact that you gently placed your palm on his shoulders that made the young boy step back. It wasn't the first time that the young lieutenant got into a fit and had to be coaxed by you to get back in line.

As a seasoned general of the army, Felix was quite impressed by your commanding tone and by how you managed to convince what seemed like a typical low-rank brat into listening to reason. Nevertheless, he didn't let it show, instead, focused on you—the future Princess of the Crimson Land.

Right?… wrong.

“What is the meaning of this, General?” Chan suddenly spoke up, confused as to why the Prince wasn't already here greeting you and welcoming you to the palace as was customary. You may come from a poorer land than his, but still, you were a princess.

His future wife for god's sake.

“The nerve of this man,” he growled under his breath, clenching his fists. “Where is His Highness? Shouldn't he be here welcoming the Princess?”

From the tone his voice took, you could tell that Chan was losing his patience. You tried to calm him the same way you would Jisung. Unfortunately, you did not have that effect on him. Chan simply shook your hand off but took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat.

“Sadly, the Prince could not join us now. He had some other important duties he had to tend to. Fear not, His Highness's schedule has been cleared for the evening. He and the Princess may meet in the latter hours of the day.”

“What other duties could he have that are more important than meeting the Princess?!” Jisung scoffed, folding his hands over his chest to show his distaste. He bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance, sending another glare to the General. The man looked quite… young for his age, and Jisung couldn't help but realize that he must be really skilled to have earned the general's title in his early twenties. Hell, the man looked like he was younger than Chan!

“Now,” Felix continued, “I believe it is my duty to show the Princess around the palace.”

. ˚✧・* •

You would think that Felix was relishing in the way you cowered as you were made to follow him around the palace. Behind every corner, crook, and cabinet, there were at least half a dozen of maids or other palace staff gossiping about you.

“I heard that she begged for His Highness to marry her! She's only after his fortune ”

“Supposedly, she stole food from the food supply, letting her own people go hungry!”

“They say she has an awful temper and hits her own maids!”

“Don't mind them,” he rumbled, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. “It's just idle gossip. They don't have anything else to talk about.”

‘Yeah sure,’ you thought. As if he wasn't smirking at the prospect of your humiliation. He had all the power to order them to stop, yet he let the rumors spread like wildfire instead, leaving you to walk over the scorching trail of embarrassment.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, almost as if trying to create a shield between you and their hurtful words, you let out a muffled whimper.

“H-How did these rumors even spread? I never did anything of this sort…”

The General smirked, his head turning away from you as he gazed at the lush gardens of the palace. “That, Princess, I wonder too…”

. ˚✧・* •

The clock struck seven when the maids were tightening your dress. It had been almost three hours since you'd arrived at the palace. General Felix took you on a lengthy tour of the kingdom's grounds and showed you to your chambers.

Despite feeling sad and lonely, there was no denying how beautiful the Crimson Land was. From the majestic palm trees lining the path to the main gate to the Palace itself, you were still in awe.

How could a building look so beautiful, like it was taken straight from The Tales From the Thousand and One Nights?

You wondered if the Prince was beautiful too… it was no secret that Lee Minho was considered one of the most attractive princes to have graced the face of Earth. The tales of his beauty and intellect reached even the most secluded corners of the Azure Land. Yet these whispers shared amongst the people were also filled with anecdotes of his cruelty and apathy.

You knew more than to believe baseless rumors spread by servants, but the story of his older brother's brutal death was one that everyone knew by heart. It was supposedly this tragic event that caused the Prince's heart to turn into ice…

A loud knock could be heard as the maids secured the last hairpin into your hair.

“Come in,” you stated, praying that your voice wasn't quivering. You fiddled with the hems of your delicately sewn sleeves, attempting to keep the anxiety at bay.

A young man, somewhere around your age, entered the chambers with an unrolled piece of parchment. “The General request your presence in ten minutes. He will accompany you to meet His Highness.”

The way he addressed you informally wasn't lost on you, yet you didn't even find it in you to bother getting angry. Instead, you nodded, gathering the heaps of your skirts before standing up.

You followed the boy into the upper floor of the palace, immediately noticing the sudden change in setting. Although never too pressed on luxury and the way your sleeping quarters looked, it was pretty hard to miss how much more lavish and decorated this floor was. Despite this sudden discovery, you tried to stop the inevitable train of thought that you were building up to.

Perhaps you were kept on the other floor for… security reasons.

Yeah… it was bullshit… you knew. And since you were already self-conscious enough about the deal, it made it even worse.

‘Don't dwell on it, Y/N,’ you whispered to yourself as you were strolling down the hall. ‘There's nothing you can do…’

Swiftly, one of the mahogany doors burst open, General Felix walking out of the room clad in his finest robes. His platinum hair was slicked back and held up by a single hairpin, giving him a more mature and aged look. He gave you his signature smirk (one that promised no good), nodding to the man who brought you and dismissing him promptly.

“Follow me, Princess.”

Hoping to keep up with the General's fast pace, you sped up slightly, the heels of your expensive crystal shoes clicking against the marble floor.

Suddenly, the man stilled, his steps coming to a halt. You squeaked, almost bumping into him, but luckily, you managed to stop right before making contact with his body, dodging the first of many bullets that were to come at you.

“His Majesty is in the last chamber on your left. No need to knock, you can simply walk straight in. He has been anticipating you for the entire evening.”

Taking a deep breath, you start walking towards the door, unclenching your hands that were balled into fists. ‘This is it,’ you thought. ‘I'm finally going to meet the Prince… my future husband.’

Even simply hearing the word itself made you unconsciously shudder, unsure of how to feel about this.

The dark, oak doors to His Majesties chambers were rather plain, you noticed. Unlike the Generals', there were no golden plaques or anything lavish that would point to the crown Prince living there.

You couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not.

Heeding general Felix's advice, you reach for the door handle. Fingers tightly gripping at the cold metal, you felt chills run down your spine as you opened the door, walking straight into a lavishly decorated room.

The shelves were filled with artifacts and scrolls, some of them looking more than two hundred years old. A thick aroma of rose and patchouli wafted through your nostrils, attacking your senses. A loud cough tore from your throat as you covered your mouth in hopes of blocking any more of the scent. It felt like you just inhaled a bottle of the most precious bath oils.

Taking a few more steps, you found yourself standing in front of a silk curtain. Looking back, maybe you should've realized that the entire setting was rather… unusual. Later that evening, you would curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

You blamed it on the giddiness from meeting the Prince, or perhaps it was a morbid sort of curiosity that led you to tug at the curtain which revealed…

The crown Prince changing?!?!

A gasp left your parted lips, alerting him of your immediate presence. You were met with a handsome man in his early twenties, clad in form-fitting trousers and a shirt half pulled over his torso. His toned chest gleamed back on you, lingering droplets of water gliding down the smooth planes of pale skin.

A loud cough made you jerk, realizing that you were staring at the Prince who was currently half-naked.

The Prince.

When that last bit sunk in, you yelped, hastily covering your eyes to block your view of the man.

“I-I… I'm-m sorry, Your Highness. I d-didn't mean to—”

Pulling down his silk shirt, the Prince's lips were tugged into a tight line as he watched you fumble with your words, arms crossing over his chest. Though he managed to conceal it, your intrusion managed to throw him off. A smirk appeared at the corner of his lips when he spotted how flustered you were.

Sensing that you weren't going to finish your sentence anytime soon, Minho waited for a couple of seconds, just to make sure, before he started walking away, completely ignoring your presence—as if you weren't even there.

You almost cowered under his menacing aura.

As you watched the back of your future husband turn on you, a sudden pang in your chest made you do the unthinkable: you reached out and grabbed his arm.

The way he stopped in his tracks made your heart beat like crazy, and for a second, you almost forgot how to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, his lips finally parted as he uttered a sentence that would haunt you for the coming days.

“Let go.”

. ˚✧・* •

After the rather embarrassing encounter with Prince Minho, you ran out of the room in tears, barely managing to hold in your sobs. Out of all the ways you could've met him for the first time, you had to walk in on him while he was changing (courtesy of general Felix—that man really must hate your guts).

Since you heard all the horrible rumors about him, you had hoped you could at least make a good first impression. Hell, even decent would be fine. Well, as always, fate throws fortune, but not everyone catches.

The way you're running down the hall feels most improper.

You're holding your robes high, so as not to trip over them, and waterfalls of tears are streaming down your face. Perhaps you were overreacting… no—scratch that—you were overreacting, no doubt.

You couldn't find proper reasoning for this onslaught of emotions. Was it caused by all the recent stress surrounding the engagement? Or perhaps the fact that you were anticipating this moment, imagining in your head how this exact meeting would go.

Wiping the tears from your face with the back of your hand, you sobbed.

“Why… w-why me?”

As you turned around the corner, you were too preoccupied with your current situation to pay attention to your surroundings. You didn't notice the person walking ahead until it was too late.

“Ouch!” you whimpered when you bumped into a sturdy chest, rough hands reaching to steady you at your waist. “You okay?”

Raising your head slowly, you stood up upright, coming face to face with Jisung. His sparkling orbs scanned over your face, taking in the redness of your eyes and your tear-soaked cheeks.

He looked as if he was going to say something, yet instead, he bit down on his lip, holding in whatever angry exclamation that was forming at the tip of his tongue. He shouldn't raise his voice… not when you were so visibly shaken.

“What's the matter, Princess?”

His voice was laced with concern, perhaps a smidgen of anger, and it almost made you choke on your sobs. Your fingers deftly gripped onto the sleeves of his coat as you tried to calm your breathing. His arms felt so warm and inviting that you almost wanted to burry yourself into his chest and forget about everything that just happened.

Carefully peeling your eyes from the ground, you gazed into his, blinking away the tears as you shook your head, letting him know you didn't want to talk about it. Instead, you lurched forward, whispering, “please… just hold me.”

Jisung almost felt his heart snap when he heard you utter those words, holding onto his last bits of restraint like a man thrown overboard would onto a wooden plank. Bending over, the young lieutenant slid his hands under your knees picking you up bridal style.

“Let's go somewhere more private.”

. ˚✧・* •

Turns out that the Crimson Palace offered plenty of nooks and crannies perfect for late-night talks.

“Please… stop it, Jisung. It's embarrassing…” you whined, swatting his hand away. He had been pestering you for the past few minutes to tell him what happened. After he scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the east wing of the palace, Jisung spent almost an hour simply holding you close, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back and caressing your hair.

His comforting touch allowed you to calm down and unwind, an effect he's had you since childhood.

“We've known each other since we were kids,” he exclaimed. “Whatever it is, I won't think you're embarrassing. Plus, I need to find whoever hurt you and give them a piece of my mind!”

You stifled a chuckle. “Geez, good luck with that. I heard that the Prince is an excellent swordsman.”

Jisung spluttered, eyes bulging out of his skull. “The Prince made you cry?! Goddamn, does he have no shame? I'm going to—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, you cut in with a shy giggle, placing your palm on his shoulder. “It's okay, Ji. honestly, I can't even blame him. You know… it was me who walked in on him while he was changing. He must've been just as taken aback as I was,” you sighed.

“Still—” Jisung whined, a pout appearing on his lips, “—he had no business being so mean to you. And that snake Felix!” he exclaimed, anger returning to his tone. “What's his deal?”

A few minutes passed, the two of you sitting on the balcony and enjoying the sunset as the golden hues mixed with the pink ones, creating a wonderful pallet on the sky. Jisung's arm slowly progressed from being propped against the cold marble to securing its (rightful, in his opinion) position around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

Inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, you let your aching body relax, almost melting into his hold. His warm, protective hold, the only one that reminded you of how a mother would hold her child. You always felt safe in his arms.

A sudden ache in your stomach made you realize how hungry you were. Your lips curled into a pout as you exhaled, making Jisung turn around. “You're hungry?”

“Jisung—” you dragged out the last syllable of his name in a teasing way, just like you did when you two were kids. “How could you tell? I was just thinking about getting something to eat.”

The boy chuckled, glancing down before gazing back into your eyes. “I've known you for ages, Princess. I know the face you make when you're hungry, when you're tired, when you're annoyed. I was practically raised to guard you and make sure you're satisfied at all times.”

His tone took a rather nostalgic sound and you swallowed thickly at all the fond memories you've shared with him. “I suppose that's true. Nobody understands me like you do, Jisung.”

“Right? The two of us are perfect for each other!”

Suddenly, your throat felt oddly dry. You were perfectly aware of what Jisung was getting at with this statement, his true intentions clear as the sky on a summer night. And perhaps it was fate that brought you together yet again as Jisung gazed into your eyes, a loving smile across his lips.

Then, quickly, as if he was afraid he would lose the courage, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. It all happened in a flash, Jisung's arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, your hands sliding into his hair, gripping onto the locks tightly—as if your life depended on it.

Your head was spinning, the air around you heavy, and the only thing you could pay attention to was Jisungs warm lips molding against yours. It was almost like the world around you stopped spinning, everything—including your surroundings—forgotten in favor of the man in front of you.

It was intoxicating, addicting, heated—like a hot summer evening—and you melted into his embrace like the tip of an iceberg fighting against the last rays of the Sun.

Suddenly, a loud clank could be heard, one akin to someone dropping a heavy object. You and Jisung immediately separated from each other, fear written in both of your eyes. His palm pressed against his mouth, fingers caressing his lips as if he still couldn't believe what he was done.

“Shit!” he whispered. “What have we done?”

This was wrong. Everything that just happened was wrong. How could you have allowed him to kiss you? If anyone saw you, you were done for…

“Y-Y/N–” Jisung stuttered, tears materializing at the corners of his eyes. “I'm s-so sorry… I swear I didn't mean to—I have no idea what came over me–”

“–Jisung,” you cut in, realizing that he was about to spiral. Jisung always put up this tough persona, pretending that he was okay and nothing bothered him, but over the years, you've learned to tell when he was in one of those moods. Push and pull, like the tides of the ocean, your understanding of each other was a two-way street, reliant on how the two of you experienced the presence of the other.

“What happened right now was certainly…” you took a deep breath, just a step too close to freaking out. “Improper. Neither of us should have engaged in such acts. As such, we should never ever speak of it, understood?”

You peered at him from under your lashes, hoping to coax more than just an empty stare from him. Luckily, the boy swallowed thickly, but nonetheless nodded, focusing his entire attention on you.

“That's not to say though that I didn't enjoy the kiss.” You grabbed his hand in yours, shyly looking away. “There's a reason I reciprocated, Jisung. Make no mistake.”

The look he gave you was almost as painful as the expression he made when he first heard that you would be moving away. Like a man starved of his deepest, darkest desires. By telling him that you felt these feelings, these tender emotions reserved for people in love, you were letting him know that although he scored in the first alley (by winning your love), there were other circumstances that would prevent the two of you from taking your relationship anywhere further.

He would have to watch you wed, not to mention he would have to be present during the ceremony. And that's not to say that he wasn't capable of being happy for you—he was, but there was a small seed of doubt that was planted in his mind before you even left your kingdom.

Would you be truly happy?

Or rather, would Prince Minho make you happy?

The tales and rumors that surrounded the… cold-hearted nature of the Prince were known to all. In the back of his mind, Jisung had already performed an assessed judgment of Minho and his entire persona. And he came to a very simple conclusion.

That bastard did not deserve you.

A sudden fluttery motion materialized in the corner of his eye—you were waving your hand in front of him, hoping to catch his attention.

“We should go.” The words fell from his mouth in a quick breath as he shot up, grabbing your hand and running towards the direction of your bed chambers.

“Wait, Jisung!” You exclaimed, trying to shake off his much too powerful grip on your wrist. It was no use—as a trained guard, he was leaps stronger than you and your pleas fell on deaf ears. “Calm down, please.”

“I can't, Y/N. I'm sorry, I've dishonored you. It's my duty to bring you to your chambers as quickly as possible—that's the least I can do.”

A choked sob leaves your throat. But you know that he's right—all that's left for you to do is pray that no one saw you. Relaxing into his grip, you allow the lieutenant to walk you in front of your door.

“Goodnight, Princess,” he whispered, giving you a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“Goodnight, Ji…”

. ˚✧・* •

“What were you thinking?!”

Chan's voice rang loud and clear, cutting through the crisp morning air. The Captain measured his subordinate with a bewildered glare, fumes almost seeping from the top of his head.

When he saw the way Jisung nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt, eyes cast downwards, something tugged at his heartstrings, making his gaze soften.

“Jisung,” his tone was now calmer and quieter, barely above a whisper. “Why did you do that?”

The younger boy snorted, “Out of all the things you could've asked me, I never expected you would ask that.”

Chan raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You're not gonna say anything? I expected you would have at least a proper excuse.” When Jisung stayed silent, he sighed, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, “Why did you kiss her?”

“You know the answer to that just as well as I do. Don't make me say it out loud…”

He sounded broken, like some higher power sucked all the life out of him, leaving only a shell of his former being behind. And Chan hated it. He hated how things had to pan out. He hated himself for not realizing that something like that was bound to happen.

He watched the two of you grow up, side by side. Like two peas in a pod. Jisung and Y/N. the princess and her guard. The two of you spent all your free time together, getting into all sorts of trouble. Chan wanted to kick himself for not putting an end to this fairytale love story before it got out of hand.

Another thought raced through his mind. “Did anyone see you?”

The way Jisung avoided his gaze made it perfectly clear.

. ˚✧・* •

The next morning, you woke up to the birds chirping outside your window. The view from your chamber was so idyllic you almost forgot the events of yesterday evening.

Slipping from under the covers, a loud pounding in your head made you stumble as you whimpered, steadying your hand against the wall. For the first time in months, you placed your hand against your head, closing your eyes as the ice began to cool you down.

You hated using your powers.

They reminded you of all the horrid events in your life, all the things you wanted to leave behind. Yet for some reason, you only felt relief. Like the familiar feeling of ice crystals seeping from the tips of your fingers reminded you of the few happy memories you shared with your parents.

Paddling towards the heavy door, you pushed it open, peeping down the nearly empty hallway. Suddenly, the smell of freshly baked rolls and the sweetest fruit wafted through your nose, making you sigh in delight. It had been ages since you last ate, and the loud grumble of your stomach made you realize that fetching some breakfast wouldn't be so bad after all…

You followed the delicious scent of food down one of the more secluded halls until you reached a heavy mahogany door. The sight made you shudder as you remembered yesterday's events. Luckily for you, the Prince was likely dining in the main dining room, and not in the small, hidden corner of the east wing. Using all your strength, you pushed against the door.

And curse your luck cause once again, you ended up face to face with Prince Minho.

Sweat broke out on your forehead as you took a step back, ready to run out the door and disappear.

“Good morning, Princess,” the General's voice drawled, making your skin crawl. The smirk painted across his lips made you want to throw up, remembering how he purposefully made you walk in on Minho just so that you'd leave a bad impression.

“M-Morning. I'm really s-sorry, I didn't mean to i-interrupt—”

“—nonsense. You're not interrupting, am I right, Your Majesty?”

Minho scowled, redirecting his attention back to the vegetable omelet that lay in front of him.

“I should probably go–” you whispered, reaching for the door handle. The air in the room was thick and heavy, weighing down on you uncomfortably.

“Stay. I'm sure the Prince would like to hear about your first day in his kingdom. Right?” Felix nudged the man, feigning innocence.

“Whatever, Lee. I'll be leaving soon, anyway.”

The general looked back at you, flashing you a bright smile. “It's settled then. Please help yourself.”

Metaphorically backed into a corner, there was nothing left for you to do, other than accept his (insincere) offer. A sigh escaped your lips as you sat down, smoothing the hem of your silk nightgown, suddenly feeling insecure. Had you known that you would dine with him, you would've dressed more appropriately.

“So, Y/N, do you mind telling us how your first day went?” Felix piped while gracefully cutting his pancakes into manageable pieces and dipping them in honey. You couldn't help but notice the dangerous glint in his eyes, a shiver running down your spine.

“It went rather well, although, I didn't really get to explore much of the palace.” You proclaimed, bitting down on a piece of fresh fruit. “I was hoping I could get to go outside and see the villagers too—you know—to get acquainted with the people.”

A smug smile appeared on Felix's face as he pretended that you piqued his interest. “Well, I'm sure that you got to explore other things last night, am I right?”

Your brow shot up, not understanding what he was getting at when suddenly, it hit you. The color drained from your face as you put together two and two, realizing what he meant. Felix noticed the sudden change of attitude, smiling proudly as he took yet another jab at you.

When you make no efforts to explain, he continued, “I am curious though, where did you go after meeting His Majesty?”

The heat rose to your cheeks as you stumbled to answer him without saying anything suspicious.

“I-I was looking for the way back to my bed chambers, but due to my limited knowledge of the palace, I got lost.”

Another snicker. “And did someone, perhaps help you find your way?”

“Y-Yeah… I met one of my guards and he escorted me back to my room.”

“I see. You must be really grateful to have met him, Princess. So grateful that you—”

“Enough!”

Minho's voice sounded much too irritated as he cut his General off before he managed to say anything else. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized what this meant. He knew. He knew exactly what happened between the two of you and he wasn't happy about it.

“Felix, I think we should allow the Princess some privacy. The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.”

You allowed yourself to nervously peer at Minho through your lashes, instantly regretting your decision. When your eyes met, there was so much anger and hostility in them that you shuddered.

“It was very nice talking to you,” Felix winked as he and the Prince walked out, leaving you to drown in your sorrows.

The sound of the door slamming echoed in your head.

. ˚✧・* •

The branches fluttered in the wind, flapping from one side to another, guided by the howling air. You sat perched on one of the benches deep in the gardens, hidden from view.

For the past few days, you roamed around the palace, trying your best to stay hidden from Prince Minho and Jisung.

Steering clear of the Prince proved to be a rather easy task—there was no reason for you to want to spend time with him and vice versa. But avoiding Jisung… that ended up being a lot more difficult than you initially anticipated.

Not that the two of you crossed paths that often, rather, it was the strong pang of guilt in your heart whenever you passed him. Whether he was sparring, practicing, or patrolling the palace grounds with Chan, your heart would break at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes and the generally lifeless energy he exuded.

Little by little, the loneliness slowly got to you, devouring you like a deadly plague until nothing was left. The darkness consumed you in its entirety, and with no one to turn to, you felt like it was you against the world.

The dark clouds in the sky were a perfect visualization of how you currently felt.

Speaking of clouds, you could tell that a storm was coming, thunder beginning to rumble in the background. There was no use sitting like a duck and getting wet.

Gathering the hefty skirts of your azure robe, you stood up, dusting off the dirt from your hands. A heavy raindrop fell from the sky, splattering against your skin. With a sigh, you picked up your pace, running towards the main gate.

. ˚✧・* •

You learned that spending hours at the library isn't something one can just stop doing.

Well, to be fair, there wasn't much for you to do, other than burying your nose in a book, but it still brought back many cherished memories from your childhood. Before the accident. Before all your troubles. Back when your biggest concern was when the sequel of your favorite series would arrive.

The action itself held no real value to you, but it was the idea it represented. It allowed you to pretend that you were just another person in academia, studying to make something of yourself. There was no pressure to be perfect, to marry, to listen to your husband.

It was just you and the bulky, leather-bound tomes. The scrolls made out of quality parchment that smelled like home. Just you and the scent of fresh ink.

The book that was currently perched up on your lap was rather interesting.

“The Crimson Clan; Tales from the Depths and Crevices of the Most Prosperous Nation”

Despite its somewhat… jarring name, the contents of it were rather straightforward and simple. Everything you'd possibly want to know about your new homeland was in here. The foundation, history, and rebirth of this thriving land—all were explained in the most thorough of details.

You even found yourself smiling while reading through the chapter on festivities and celebrations. It stirred something within you, to know that these people were fortunate enough to have so much to celebrate.

Ignoring the slight pang of jealousy in your heart—one caused by the unfortunate circumstances of your war-stricken, poverty-afflicted nation—it allowed you to feel something you haven't felt in a long time.

Something dangerous... Hope.

An emotion you had long given up on after seeing your land in ruins and your people in pain. You cursed yourself for allowing something that could threaten the alliance to even happen.

It seemed like there was no chance for the Crown prince to love you—which hurt you more than you admitted to yourself—but it didn't matter. Marriage out of love was rare anyway. So in hopes of preserving the deal, you decided that you would try your best to win the favor of Lee Minho.

Sans love, romance, or affection.

You would make sure that you'd see this treaty to the end.

. ˚✧・* •

The wind tonight was light and breezy, like a whiff of fresh peonies on a spring morning.

After many days of locking yourself in the library, your joints were aching, leading you to believe that you deserved a bit of a break.

You spent the better half of the week reading through many volumes of the ‘The Crimson Clan’ series, learning everything there was to know about your new homeland. It was certainly difficult, more difficult than you first imagined it to be, but after hours spent cramped in the corner of the library, things were starting to look up.

The unfamiliar words and phrases were starting to clear up, having read them enough times to learn their true meanings. The unusual ways of the nation inked on the pages were beginning to make sense after you understood a little bit of how they were thinking, and the festivals and celebrations were becoming more comprehensible as you read of their origins.

You even kept a small notebook by your side at all times, jotting down the new words you've learned and organizing your thoughts and opinions.

A loud growl of your stomach made panic, looking around in fear that someone saw you. It was rather stupid—there was no one around—but the dread of someone seeing you in such an… unladylike state made you tremble.

Fortunately—just as you predicted—no one was around to witness the embarrassing sounds of your stomach. And maybe this was a sign that you should take a break, and perhaps, get something small to eat.

There's a light bounce to your step as you walk down the empty halls, humming a tune you heard the royal quartet play. The birds were chirping and the weather was lovely—making you suddenly regret that you spent the past days holed up in the library.

“What do you think you're doing?!”

The loud scream had you stopping in your tracks. What was going on?

“I-I'm s-so sorry. I-I was told to c-collect a-all the laundry. P-Please, don't p-punish me,” Came the answer in a much quieter voice.

Turning around the corner, you found a small group of people crowded around two; a servant and a guard. Immediately, you could tell that the guard was threatening the young girl, as she was backed into a corner, eyes wide as a laundry basket lay discarded by her feet.

“How dare you go through my drawers without permission?” he barked, ears turning red in fury. The girl only took a step back, quivering as she realized she hit the wall. “I won't let this slide!”

“Enough!”

All eyes were on you as you walked up to the guard, fuming. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Y-Your Majesty—” he stuttered, anger slowly dissipating, “I was only chastising this, this foolish maid for going through my room!”

You shook your head. “There's no reason for you to yell at her like that for such a simple mistake. You could've explained what she did wrong without scaring her like that.”

You gestured for the girl to come to you, sanding in front of her protectively. Giving her a smile, you remarked, “If he ever gives you any trouble, come to me immediately.”

The man's face turned beet red in embarrassment as he looked down at his feet. “And you, if I ever hear that you're bothering her, you'll be on laundry duty for the next week!”

There was a loud chorus of laughter that followed and the people around you slowly started to scatter, leaving only you and the young maid. She looked to be a few years younger than you.

“T-Thank you, Your Majesty,” she bowed, shyly looking away.

“It's okay. Assholes have to be put in their place, right?”

She didn't laugh.

Embarrassed by your little joke not landing well, you reached out to gently pat her hair. “What's your name?”

“Yuna.”

She was still shaken up, you could tell by her closed-off stance. “Well, Yuna, I think you were very brave today. I'm really sorry you had to go through this, please don't hesitate to reach out to me if anything like that happens again.”

With a wave of your hand, you saw her off, smiling widely as you walked down the hall.

. ˚✧・* •

“Your Majesty—” you ignored the calls of the young servant, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “I'm fine, don't worry.”

“Please, Your Majesty… you've done nothing else than reorganize these scrolls for the past few days! You have to rest…”

“No, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm glad to be of some use.”

You moved another section of scrolls and loose leaves of parchment down on the floor, wiping down the shelf with a wet rag. After making sure the surface was perfectly clean, you picked up the scrolls, reorganizing them on the shelves by date and topic.

While doing so, you've also managed to learn more about the kingdom, familiarizing yourself with its history. These ancient scrolls provided you with much more information than the books you read.

The afternoon sun was shining down on you through the large, open windows. The light cotton blinds were no longer enough to protect you from its wrath.

“Maybe it really is time for a break,” You mumbled, dizziness slowly taking over you. You wiped down your forehead with a wetted cloth, swiping over your face and cooling yourself down.

You've been in here for… seven hours already…

. ˚✧・* •

“What?!” The Crown Prince shouted, slamming his fist on the table. His eyes were sharp and focused, glaring down at the poor messenger that was quivering in his boots.

“I'm afraid t-that's all I know, Your Majesty. We've been told that a rebel group has infiltrated our lands. We're currently awaiting more information regarding the size of the group and how far they've reached.”

A long, drawn-out sigh escaped the Prince's mouth as he slumped back in his seat, rubbing his temples. The palace was already in chaos after the arrival of the Crown Princess, and this was slowly becoming more than he could handle.

The messenger scurried away after being dismissed.

Before the Prince could even take a breath, another knock on the door made him roll his eyes.

“Come in!”

“Your Majesty,” the old man bowed. Minho immediately glanced up after recognizing him as the man he appointed to watch over you. “Has there been any development?”

The man, face aged by war, pressed his lips into a thin line before pulling out a piece of parchment. His fingers deftly worked to undo the knot on the string, sighing when the parchment finally unrolled.

“There haven't been any interesting sightings of Her Majesty. Every day, she wakes up and eats breakfast before walking to the library. There, she reads through an impressive amount of chapters on the history of our land, takes some notes, and walks back to her chambers where she orders a light dinner.”

The old man paused, looking the Prince in the eye before continuing, “Recently, she has been spotted going to the ancient scroll room instead of the library. A servant told me that she insist on cleaning the room and reorganizing all the scrolls.”

Minho cut the man off, “—Who has she been ordering to clean the room?”

“No one. She insists on doing everything herself, Your Majesty.”

The Prince audibly groaned at the revelation. After what happened, he had wished for you to give him a reason to hate you, but so far, you'd given him none. Instead, you made guilt blossom in his chest by behaving like a responsible future queen a king could only wish for.

So far, you've kept to yourself and educated yourself on the kingdom's history and its traditions. You didn't abuse your power and outright refused help unless it was absolutely necessary.

Running a hand through his hair, he questioned, “Were there any, uh, any incidents? Anything unusual?”

“No, Your Majesty. Her Majesty hasn't done anything out of the ordinary. Although—”

“—although what?” he immediately latched onto his words, ears perked in interest.

“I've had several accounts from servants and other palace staff that Her Majesty got into a quarrel with one of the guards.”

Minho was hanging on his lips, listening intently. He ran a hand through his hair, sipping from his goblet.

“It appears that the guard was verbally harassing one of the new maids. Her Majesty was just around the corner so she stepped in, putting an end to the fight and telling the guard off.”

Minho felt like banging his head against the wall.

Why were you so kind? So perfect? It gave him a headache just thinking about all the things you've done since you arrived. He was hoping that during this period of separation, he would catch you doing something improper, something that would give him a reason to cancel the treaty and subsequently, cancel your engagement, thus annulling your arranged marriage.

But so far, all you've done was for the benefit of others. You have proved yourself to be a kind and intelligent person, which were exactly the traits he would've been looking for in his future Queen.

When he realized that the old man was still standing by his desk, he cleared his throat, “You can go now, thank you.”

Bowing, the man hurriedly walked out of the room, leaving the Prince to drown in his sorrows, consumed by guilt.

. ˚✧・* •

Later that evening, you found yourself in your bed chamber after a long day. Your muscles were aching from standing on a ladder and cleaning all day. Upon entering through the door, something rather strange caught your attention.

There, on your bed, lay a beautiful red gown with golden stitching. Your eyes bulged out of your skull as you took in the gorgeous article of clothing. It was the prettiest dress you've ever seen.

As you took a step closer to admire the garment, you noticed a small folded piece of paper attached to the front of the dress. Skillfully, you pull it out and unfold it, scanning over the message written in neat cursive.

Dear Princess Y/N,

I know we haven't gotten off on the right foot, and I'm aware that I too am partially to blame for that. It has been brought to my attention that you spend every day in the library reading or cleaning the scroll room. As such, I was hoping I could invite you to a proper dinner (hence the dress ;).

When you are free, please stop by my chambers. I would love to arrange a proper date with you.

Sincerely, Lee Minho

. ˚✧・* •

Your heart was beating loudly as you stopped in front of the heavy doors. The handle was platted in gold and the wood was carved with beautiful ornaments, reminding you of the front gate of the palace. You gently pick up the metallic ring and bang it against the door.

“Come in,” Came the muffled reply.

As you nervously walk into the room, you feel like your skin is on fire. Fear clouds your eyes as you worry about the unknown. How would he react once he saw you?

When you found the ruby dress in your chambers, it felt like your heart did a 180. Touched by the kind gesture, you almost allowed yourself to fantasize about all the what-ifs. What if Lee Minho actually cared for you? What if he wanted to spend time with you? These questions were running through your mind like a whirlwind, further confusing your already unstable heart.

When the Prince comes into view, you almost felt the blood freeze in your veins. Clad in a fitting robe with gold fastenings, accentuating his broad shoulders and impeccable physique, you couldn't help but swoon at his beauty.

His trimmed locks were parted in the middle, framing his handsome face. Against the pale complexion of his skin, his rich, chocolate eyes stood out, peering at you with an intensity that brings Chan's infamous glare to shame.

Too busy nervously fiddling with the hem of your skirt, you didn't notice the way his gentle smile fell, turning into a frown.

You were anxious.

Not only that—to Minho's dismay, you looked like you haven't slept in days. The circles under your eyes were prominent, and the way your muscles tensed made his heart shatter.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

The question caught you off guard, but not as much as the soft tone of his voice. He sounded almost…. Concerned?

Your eyes fluttered, giving away just how much you needed some shut-eye as you whispered, “Not really, Your Majesty…”

He expected you to elaborate, but you didn't, leaving him unsure of what his next steps should be.

“You can call me Minho,” he paused, letting the words sink in. When they did, your eyes parted wide, taken off guard by something that should've been so insignificant but held so much significance to you.

‘You can call me Minho’

That sentence played over in your head like a mantra. “Minho,” you breathed out, barely above a whisper. The name was so known, yet still seemed so unfamiliar. It rolled off of your tongue with strange, child-like anticipation. Like it held something deeper.

The Prince smiled upon hearing you call him by his first name. Like honey, it sounded so sweet when said by you.

“Due to our predicament, I think it would be rather foolish for us to stay exceedingly formal with each other, don't you agree?”

Your heart was beating loudly against your ribcage as you squeaked, “You can call me Y/N, too.”

“Great,” he smiled, “I'm glad we're on the same page, love.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks almost made you want to hide your face in embarrassment. Minho chuckled at the adorable sight, fighting the urge to reach out and pat your hair. His smile only grew when you carefully glanced at him from under your lashes.

“I'll arrange for Seungmin, our healer, to come to visit you,” he muttered, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. “I'm sure he can recommend something for you to sleep better, perhaps some herbal tea…”

The two of you talked for a few more minutes. The Prince kept asking you questions regarding your schedule, what you did during the day, and if you had any idea what caused your sleep problems. You tried to answer him to the best of your abilities, occasionally staring off into space as you wondered what caused him to make such a 180 personality-wise.

Placing the parchment into a drawer and slamming it shut, Minho faced you, giving you his full attention. A coy smile played on his lips when he remarked, “About dinner… does next Friday sound good?”

. ˚✧・* •

Anger.

That's all that was on Felix's mind as he strolled down the hall, trying to get away from Minho's chambers. He was sick, sick to his stomach from the conversation he just overheard.

‘Love.’

He wanted to barf. What did you do to cause Minho to behave like that? The general barely recognized his longtime friend in that short conversation between the two of you that he eavesdropped on. Why was he so smitten? Did you manage to seduce him?

It truly wasn't like him to behave like that, Felix concluded, and he was gonna make sure he helped his friend see the light again.

. ˚✧・* •

Your shoulders scraped against the wall as you leaned on it, breathing in to catch your breath. The air suddenly felt thick and heavy as you struggled to calm your nerves. Maybe you should really catch a break?

But there was still so much for you to do… the piles upon piles of books, scrolls, and other artifacts were hard evidence of that.

And much to your dismay, you still haven't been sleeping well, meaning that the exhaustion was slowly getting to you. Your limbs were aching and your entire body felt rather stiff.

“Damn it,” you groaned, sliding down the wall till you were sitting on the freezing marble floor.

“Your Majesty.” A sudden knock echoed through the room, your eyes immediately shooting up towards the door. “Come in,” you reply.

A young girl came scurrying inside the room with a golden tray. She placed it on the table, positioning the tea kettle and the teacup next to a small pile of paper.

“This is the herb tea sent by head healer Seungmin as per His Majesties request.”

“Oh, right. Thank you so much!” you beamed, shooting up and walking towards the table. The maid poured a generous amount of the liquid into the cup, handing it to you with a slight bow.

“Thank you. You may go now.”

Bringing the porcelain cup to your lips, you inhaled the fresh, fruity scent, sighing at how pleasant it smelled. With a relaxed smile playing on your lips, you sipped the warm beverage, enjoying how it heated you from the inside, leaving behind a tingling sensation.

While reading about the kingdom, you noticed that a lot of the authors mentioned the complicated system of the land's foreign trade policy. Despite the fact that you read many books on the topic, it quickly became quite obvious that they only touched the surface of the complex system.

That's why you decided to schedule a meeting with one of the advisors of the royal court, a man named Hwang Hyunjin. You've heard many things about him, from his socialite, flirty nature to his love for pies.

It's the reason were in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist as you sifted the dry ingredients into a bowl. After that, you cracked a few eggs into the mixture, stirring it till you had a dough-like consistency.

All and all, it took you about an hour till the pie was finally in the oven. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, you smiled at the sight of your creation. It may have not been the nicest looking pie you've laid your eyes on, but you were proud nonetheless.

Once it was done, you pulled it out with a pair of oven mitts. Excitement washed over you—it smelled exquisite—and you were ready to present it to the self-proclaimed pie man of the city.

. ˚✧・* •

The wind was light and breezy, tousling his hair as he stood on the balcony, bending down over the railing. From the corner of his eye, he saw you, walking through the garden in your outdoor cloak, smiling from ear to ear. In your hand, you held a box, and he could only guess what was inside.

Jeongin—one of the guards you've befriended during your stay—greeted you with a tip of his hat as you passed the gate. You grinned at him in return, commenting on something that made the boy visibly blush, looking away shyly.

Despite only watching you from afar, Minho couldn't help but smile softly. Every day, his heart seemed to yearn for you more than before.

And Lee Minho was a man of principles… he followed his heart.

. ˚✧・* •

The night had fallen. In the sky, countless stars were shimmering like scattered moondust and glimmering like lost beacons of hope.

The meeting with Hyunjin went rather well if you could say, and you left his house feeling like you've learned a lot. Despite his flirty nature, he seemed to have known that there was a certain line he shouldn't cross, given that you were to be wed to the Prince, so he only allowed himself to occasionally wink at you, gloating over the bashful smiles you gave him.

“You make a lovely baker, Princess,” he complimented, eating another spoonful of the pie. You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thank you.”

Once you arrived back at the palace, you slipped into your silk nightgown, sighing at the cool sensation that spread over your body. You weren't used to such fine materials, your kingdom being way too poor for such luxuries, but it seems like the Crimson clan had enough money on their hands to afford these expensive items.

You asked one of the maids to bring you some boiling water. Once she arrived, you pulled out the sachet of Seungmin's herbal tea and prepared the beverage.

You drank it while watching the stars from your balcony. The air was chilly and cool, the wind fanning your cheeks. As you sipped the drink, you couldn't help but feel drowsy, like you were about to fall asleep. Your mind felt foggy like it was being put to sleep which alarmed you. You were just fine earlier. What caused this?

You tried to stand up, but you were unable to, instead stumbling over your feet and falling to the ground.

On second thought, the marble floor of the balcony was pretty comfortable, you realized, as your warm cheek pressed onto the cool stone.

. ˚✧・* •

Minho was starting to grow concerned when you didn't answer after the fifth knock. Standing in front of your door impatiently, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, pondering. Should he come in?

He waited for a couple more seconds, just in case you were walking towards the door, but when nothing happened, he knocked for the final time.

“Y/N, are you okay? I'm coming in!”

Without missing a beat, he rammed his shoulder against the door using all of his strength. After the second try, the hinges finally gave out, the door bursting open and allowing Minho to run in.

“Where are you? Y/N?!”

There was alarm in his voice, and it took all of his willpower not to panic. Your bed was empty, and he noticed how it was made, the blanket neatly folded over the length of the wooden frame. You would always make your bed yourself, the maids would tell him.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he scanned the room, searching for a clue—anything, really—that could hint at your whereabouts.

If something happened to you…

Fuck. He didn't know if he could ever forgive himself if something were to happen to you.

And while he was busy muttering all the curses he knew, he caught something from the corner of his eye. A fluttering motion. Turning his head, he noticed the white curtain dancing in the evening breeze. And the curtain was leading from the balcony…

Aha!

He ran to the glass french door, immediately spotting your crumpled-up body on the cold marble. Bit by bit, he felt his heart crack at the sight. What did you deserve to be lying on the ground, passed out like that?

“Y/N,” he cried, kneeling beside you and cradling your face in his hands. He pushed the stray locks of hair out of your face, gently thumbing the apples of your cheeks.

“Oh, Y/N! What happened to you, my love?!”

The desperation in his voice was heavy, and with hooded eyes, he gently slid his hands under your frame, effortlessly lifting you into his arms. He pressed you close to his chest as he walked back inside of your room and laid you on the bed.

. ˚✧・* •

“Will she be okay?”

The healer rolled his eyes at the Prince, applying the soaked cloth on your forehead. It was the fifth time His Majesty had asked, and quite frankly, it was beginning to get on his nerves. Seungmin had just come down from a fever, so he had to step in, covering for his sick friend.

He never would've imagined the Crown Prince to have such a desperate side to him. Misery definitely didn't suit him, he decided. It wasn't a good look on him, or perhaps, it was the fact that it shattered the cold image he had created in his mind of the Prince.

“She likely just passed out due to exhaustion,” he said in a gruff tone, swiping the hair away from your forehead. “Her muscles seem tense and she hasn't been sleeping well.”

“I-I know,” Minho's voice cracked. “I hoped that the herbal tea would help…”

A beat of silence followed. “Well, I think my job here is done, Your Majesty. She should come to in a few hours,” the young healer muttered, grabbing all his belongings. “Call me if anything happens.”

The door thudded, leaving Minho alone with you in the room. The feeling of distraught crept over him, clawing at his heart as he watched you lay peacefully beneath the covers.

It was during times like these that he felt utterly useless. There was nothing he could do, and realistically, he should've accepted that. Yet there was a part of him that yearned to do something, to help you, to relieve the pain.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized something. The two of you hadn't known each other for long enough for him to know how to make you feel better. No, regrettably, he wasn't in possession of such knowledge.

Yet he knew someone who was.

His insides twisted at the thought, almost as if his gut was trying to talk him out of this. Thinking about him only made him remember his short-lived jealous streak—an emotion he didn't want to feel again.

Han Jisung. He didn't like him, far from it, he rather despised the young guard, for multiple reasons. The first one was his loud nature—mere days after the arrival of the Cerulean carriage, he was already the talk of the town. He heard at least a dozen maids giddily chirping about his supposedly gorgeous smile. It didn't help that he joined the sparring club as soon as he could, allowing a large amount of the female population the privilege of oogling his toned physique. He was the center of attention anywhere he went, winning the favor of all the palace staff.

But what irked him the most was undeniably how close he was to you. Minho knew it was childish to foster such jealousy for the guard. Despite his rather surprising self-awareness, he couldn't help but feel a prick of envy whenever he saw him, especially after hearing that the two of you made out in his palace, despite the fact that he was supposed to marry you in the near future.

In spite of all the things he listed in his head, he wasn't blind to the fact that you cared for him deeply. Just as Jisung must've cared for you. But he knew. He knew that this was the one thing he could do for you.

So despite his better judgment and the erratic beating of his heart, Minho headed out of the room in search of a person he never expect to look for in the first place.

. ˚✧・* •

To say that Jisung was confused would be the understatement of the century.

It wasn't every day that the Crown Prince came looking for you, especially if you kissed his future wife.

He entered the empty changing room, leaning his back against the wall with an unreadable expression. Jisung didn't know if he should bow or not. He decided that it would probably be improper not to, so he managed to awkwardly lower his torso, the shirt he was putting on still caught around his shoulders.

Once he was decent, a loud cough from the Prince made him look up. “I need you to follow me.”

When Minho noticed the uncertainty swarming in his eyes, he clarified, “Y/N fainted. I think she could use waking up to a familiar face.”

From then on, it was a blur. Jisung bolted out of the room like thunder, leaving Minho. Not wanting to be left behind, he ran after him, following his trail back to your bed chambers. His heart finally shattered as he watched the young guard disappear inside, the door slamming shut behind him.

. ˚✧・* •

Ever since you awoke to Jisung besides you, your heart felt just a little bit lighter. Despite the constant workload you inflicted upon yourself, there was still a void in your chest, left behind after the two of you practically cut off any sort of interactions.

It had been weird at first, but to be fair, the weirdness, or so to speak, had begun when Jisung, your best friend and guard—had kissed you, right inside the palace of your future husband.

It came as a surprise to you how easily the two of you had glossed over the initial awkwardness.

“Wait– sit down, Y/N. You shouldn't be overexerting yourself,” his hand on your shoulder pushed you back down into the covers.

“Oh please,” you groaned, “I'm fine now. I must've gotten a bit light-headed, you know, from the change of air pressure and all.”

Jisung snorted, “We both know that's bullshit, Princess.” Then he took on a much softer tone, “But even if you're feeling better now, you still should rest.”

You tsked, but in the end, you complied. You knew he meant well and you didn't want to worry him anymore. Instead, your palm reached over to his, gently encasing his hand in yours.

“I know that it's hard, but we must address the elephant in the room, Ji…”

You could feel him tense, eyes glancing anywhere but at you. He opened his mouth to say something, yet nothing came out, allowing the pregnant silence to envelop you. When he finally gathered his thoughts, he glanced back at you, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. I know I never should've done that,” his hand gripped tightly onto yours. You carefully watched his face, only to realize—to your unease—that he started crying. There were tears streaming down his face, leaving faint trails of moisture that glimmered under the light. You watched in horror as the sobs wracked through him, muffled sounds leaving his parted lips.

And the only thing you could do was gently rub his back, blinking to suppress any tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“Ji—” you whispered, but Jisung cut off. “—I-I'm really s-sorry. I know I've caused you a lot of pain,” he sniffled, looking away in embarrassment. “It's hard for me to f-follow boundaries without overstepping them—especially since the line between us has always been s-so blurred—but I clearly went too far.” Another sniffle. “A-And this time, m-my reckless actions had dire consequences…”

And the dam broke.

Tears were now streaming down your face like a waterfall, staining your cheeks as you whimpered, “Sungie, please…”

He understood your silent plea, hand reaching out to grab yours, intertwining your fingers together. “I'm so s-sorry,” he sniveled onto the top of your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Sungie…”

After a couple of minutes of enjoying the warmth of his embrace, you pulled away from his chest. “T-This is probably the most we've ever apologized to each other,” you sniffed, a small smile appearing at the corners of your lips.

“Y-Yeah,” Jisung whispered, running his thumb down your cheek, wiping away the moisture. “My pride usually got the better of me…”

A pleasant silence settled in the air as you watched Jisung, eyes carefully following the way his facial expressions changed. He seemed unsure of himself, something you weren't necessarily used to which made you frown.

Glancing at you, Jisung noticed how intently you were watching. Grasping your hand, he worried his lower lips between his teeth before muttering, “I think Minho likes you.”

“Jisung,” your eyebrows shot up, unsure of what to make of this statement, which sounded more like a prank than anything, “what are you saying?”

A small pout appeared on his lips when he realized you didn't believe him. “I-I—”

“—Yeah?” you implored impatiently, a sudden wave of giddiness washing over you. “Why do you think that?”

“As much as I hate that snobby bastard, I couldn't help but notice that he seems to care for you all of a sudden,” Jisung muttered under his breath, unable to look you in the eyes. “He's the one who brought me here — he came running to me like a madman just to tell me that you fainted.”

“Why would that be unusual though? What if he just wanted someone else to wait with me? He probably didn't want to deal with me—” you pointed out hurriedly, not buying the whole schtick.

“S'cause he said something about you ‘wanting to wake up to a familiar face’ or whatever... Awfully cheesy, I know,” he chuckled, fidgeting with his fingers, “but he really seemed worried about you. His clothes were all disheveled and his hair was messy… he probably stayed by your side for at least a few hours.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks making you look away in embarrassment. This was all it took for you to feel like a lovestruck teenager once again. Your heart was beating inside your chest at the mere possibility of him actually caring for you.

“I should probably go—now that you're up,” Jisung stood up, dusting off his leather pants. His expression turned into a hard mask of unreadability as he walked off. “Sleep well, Sungie,” you managed to call after him before you heard the door slam shut.

The steady beating of his heart contrasted with the tears trailing down his cheeks as your last words echoed in his head.

And just like a mother hen has to part with her little ones, Jisung parted with you.

This was the end of the two of you ever sharing anything other than a platonic relationship, and with a heavy heart, he acknowledged that it was time for him to move on.

This time, for good.

. ˚✧・* •

“Minho!” you called, running down the hall in hopes of catching up to the Prince. It was past breakfast, and you were walking towards the main gate when you spotted the handsome man strolling through the corridors of the palace.

Briskly, the Prince turned around after hearing his name being called, mouth stretching into a grin when he realized it was you who was calling him.

“Good morning, Princess. How are you? I hope you're well-rested after yesterday's events.”

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, stifling a yawn, “Yeah, pretty good! I'm just tired and achy but other than that, I'm perfectly fine,” you flashed him a smile.

You couldn't help but notice how his smile froze, a worried expression painting his face. “Are you alright? Should I call the head healer to make you some brew—”

“—No! It's fine,” you interrupted, not wanting him to needlessly worry. “Really, I'll be okay.”

A heavy silence engulfed you as you stood in front of the Prince, pondering over how you were going to thank him for yesterday. Finally, after a long series of deep breaths, you turned to him.

“By the way, um, I wanted to thank you for… you know… what you did yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” he inquired, placing his hand on your arm. “Oh, you know,” the heat rushed to your cheeks, making you look away shyly. “You were the one that found me, right? Jisung told me that you stayed with me for over an hour before you brought him to me…”

“Oh…”

You missed the way the apples of his cheeks turned a shade of pink, fumbling with the hem of your sleeve. “Well… I'll have to go now,” you whispered, your words barely audible. Before you could overthink your actions (which would inevitably lead to you chickening out), you leaned closer to him, pressing a quick kiss to the curve of his jaw.

“Goodbye, Minho,” you waved with newfound confidence, crinkling your eyes. Minho could only watch as your figure disappeared around the corner.

He hadn't felt so euphoric in ages.

. ˚✧・* •

“Hmm,” your foot tapped against the ground, hands on your hips as you chewed at the nib of your pen, scanning the market. At first sight, the place reminded you of everything that your own kingdom wasn't. It was lively and crowded, and there were so many goods you didn't know in which direction to look.

Truly a feast for the eyes, you noted.

But despite that, you knew that the Crimson land, just like any other land, had to have its own set of issues.

Issues that you soon discovered ran a bit deeper than you originally had anticipated. After countless short ‘interviews’ (if you could even call them that) with the local citizens and villagers, you found out that there was a reoccurring pattern of corrupt, lesser-powerful royals in charge of the adjoining regions under the Crimson rule abusing their powers.

“Count Choi raises the taxes by a little bit every year,” an elderly woman complained, lowering her voice as a string of colorful curses rang from her lips. Frustration could be seen in her angry gaze—you could tell how powerless she felt.

A middle-aged man, similarly to her, shared how Viscount Kim suspended the stream from the river to the well, cutting off their immediate water supply.

“It's nearly impossible to reach His Majesty in any way. Or at least since the…” he immediately paused, looking around in fear of being overheard. “...Since his brother died in the war,” he whispered urgently, shaking his head.

“But even if we could set up a meeting with him, I highly doubt anyone would be willing to.”

It surprised you to hear just how much his own people feared him. Sure, Minho wasn't exactly the most… hospitable person when you first met him, you wouldn't even go as far as to say that you were friends, but the look of fear in the people's eyes was unmistakable.

As far as you could tell, the people were utterly terrified of him.

Noting down all the new information into your handy journal, you made a mental note to find a way to bring it up with Minho as soon as you could. Perhaps once you two finally managed to have the promised dinner together…

‘Just a few more days’ you realized with glee.

A loud thud almost made you drop your notebook as you realized where you currently were. Coughing awkwardly, you briskly walked over to one of the more secluded stalls, not wanting to stand still in the middle of the busy marketplace crowd.

A sudden smell of freshly baked rolls wafts through the air, making you keen. You turned around over your shoulder in hopes of finding the stall that managed to produce such lavish-smelling treats.

“Hello,” you walked up to the small booth, greeting the elderly lady behind the counter with a smile. In front of you layed pastries of all shapes and sizes, arranged in multiple rows. Almost salivating, you scanned all the treats—you felt like a kid in a candy store. There were so many options and quite frankly, when presented with so many choices, you felt at your wit's end.

“You aren't from here, are you?” she chuckled, wiping her hands into the apron around her waist.

“Oh… can you tell so easily?” you winced, rubbing the back of your neck, heat rushing to your cheeks.

She smiled, “Don't worry about it, sweetheart. It isn't quite often that we see foreigners here and we can usually tell by seeing them shop around.”

“I see. Do you mind if I ask you to recommend me something? There's just so much to choose from and I'm afraid I'd stand here all day if I had to choose,” you giggled bashfully, looking down in embarrassment. It was true though, and with so many choices, you were bound to ponder over something as simple as what you should eat for ages.

“Of course,” she bent down and picked up a large pot. “Jeongin! Bring the sugar dragons!”

Your brow raised upon hearing the familiar name, a smile appearing on your face when you saw the familiar figure come in through the door. The boy looked like he had just rolled out of bed, dressed in what you assumed to be his comfortable clothes. His hair sat messily atop his head, likely uncombed, making him look even more adorable.

“I'm coming!”

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he placed the large container on the counter, pushing the hair out of his face. Only then did he notice you standing in front of him, smirking with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Y-Your M-Majesty–” he stammered, taking a step back. His eyes widened into the size of dinner plates, causing a chuckle to tear through your throat.

“Jeongin,” you cooed, grinning at the sight of your friend (at least you hoped you could consider the boy your friend). A rosy blush rose to his cheeks, dusting them with a soft, peachy hue. Stuttering, he awkwardly attempted to bow as his mother watched, unsure of what to do.

She ended up following suit, lowering her head as a string of apologies left her lips. “It's okay,” you tried to placate the two of them, repeating over and over how you didn't really care for royal greetings anyways.

Moments later, all three of you sat around a small table in the middle of their living room, munching on the little sugar dragon popsicles.

“What are you doing here anyway, Princess?” Jeongin's tone—to your relief—took on a more laid-back quality as he slumped back into his chair.

“Oh, nothing much,” you remarked, noticing how Jeongin's mom was now watching you intently. “I thought I could actually come to see the village myself and meet the people of the land I will soon rule.”

You sipped some freshly squeezed juice jeongin graciously offered you before continuing, “I figured I could ask around and figure out some points of friction,” you gestured towards the market outside the window. “Since I still don't get recognized in public, I figured people would tell me there was something bothering them.”

“That's very nice of you to do,” Jeongin chimed, picking up all the plates from the table. “Did you find out anything interesting?”

“Oh, definitely,” you lean over the table, immediately launching into a detailed explanation…

. ˚✧・* •

A strangle of curses left your lips as you sat on the chair, focusing all of your energy on creating a spark of ice. Your eyes were shut in concentration, brows furrowing at the realization that you likely wouldn't produce any anytime soon.

“What is going on?!” you whisper-shouted under your breath, staring at the tips of your fingers as if that would ever help. You had bumped your head earlier in the morning while preparing some morning tea and to prevent a nasty bruise from appearing on your body, you thought that you could cool the sore spot with some ice.

Except it wasn't working at all. It was like you never had any powers, to begin with, the feeling reminding you way too much of how you felt back when you were a toddler, forced to focus all your energy into manifesting the first slivers of ice.

‘This is bad,’ you realized, beads of sweat forming at the top of your forehead. ‘Really bad.’

The realization of what would happen if it were released to the public that you lost the ability to control your power hit you straight in the face, causing your heartbeat to steadily grow.

There were so many officials and high-standing people in the palace, hungry to find anything as simple as an unrelenting rumor or idle gossip to discredit your position as the future queen of the nation.

And the fact that you couldn't summon your powers would definitely be enough grounds for them to try and annulate the treaty.

The whole point of this marriage was to unite the two kingdoms and create a powerful empire, one that could afford to stay at peace. It was expected that the two of you would produce an heir soon after the marriage, followed by (hopefully) many more children to come, some of which would inherit Minho's fire-bending ability while others would learn how to control ice, like their mother.

And despite the fact that you would never be forced to battle anyone, the information about your sudden ability-loss would certainly make you an easier target as you would be rightfully deemed weaker and more vulnerable.

“Damn it!” you groaned, wiping off the tear that slid down your cheek with the back of your wrist.

‘This wasn't going anywhere,’ you concluded, so you decided that you had to distract yourself asap. Picking up your trusty, leather-bound notebook, you began to flip through the pages until you found the one you were looking for. At the bottom, there was an address scribbled down in smeared ink.

It was the address of the local orphanage.

While talking to one of the villagers, you had found out that there weren't that many teachers in the regions that would teach poorer people. He explained that because of that, some children (especially the orphans) grew up struggling to read, write, or even do simple calculations in their heads.

And since no one really paid any attention to you, slipping out of the palace with two bags filled to the brim with clothes, supplies and some food was the easiest thing in the world.

Damn, maybe the palace should update its security.

. ˚✧・* •

“Hello,” you greeted the children lined up in a row, “I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Hello Miss Y/N,” all the kids greeted back in unison, beaming with happiness despite their torn clothes and streaks of dirt on their faces. Your heart clenched at the sight, making a mental note to remember to bring some washing oils next time you came.

The head of the orphanage, Jihyo, welcomed you with open arms, enthralled that she had someone who seemed interested in the well-being of the little kids.

“You know,” she wept, wiping the tears off her face, “It isn't often that we get volunteers here, especially ones that are willing to teach these poor kids some skills that would help them once they become adults.”

You nodded gently in understanding, handing her your handkerchief. “I'm glad to be of service.”

Once you handed her the bags filled with goods, she busted in tears once again, hugging you with so much fervor you were afraid she'd crush your lungs.

After that, she lead you to the room where a small chalkboard hung on the wall of the modestly furnished space.

Setting down your materials on a small table, you grabbed a piece of chalk before writing on the board the contents of today's lesson, underlining it twice.

“Now, who can tell me the alphabet?”

. ˚✧・* •

After the first day of volunteering at the orphanage, you realized that it was something you enjoyed a lot. It gave you a sense of pride and fulfillment, knowing that you were helping these children who had so little, and you told yourself that you would bring the lack of proper funding for these institutions to Minho's attention since you didn't really hold any power yourself as of right now.

Every time you saw them smile as they read a word out loud or calculated something in their head, your heart burst at the sight of their happy cries and cheers.

“Here you go,” you handed the young girl with pigtails the last piece of pie that you bought on the market before coming here, wiping your sticky hands into a towel nearby.

“Thank you,” she chirped, gleefully swallowing down the pastry with a grin. “You have a really nice dress, Miss Y/N,” she suddenly spoke up, staring at your yellow gown in awe. “And you're really pretty and smart too! Just like a princess… I wanna be just like you when I grow up!” she pumped her fist in the air, giggling softly.

“Aww,” you coo, touched by her kind words. “That's so sweet of you to say, Rosie. You're really sweet and pretty too, you know that?” She smiled bashfully as a gentle blush colored her cheeks.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?” you inquired, gently brushing a stray lock from her face. After her furious nod of approval, she grabbed your hand, leading you towards one of the cushions on the floor.

. ˚✧・* •

“There, you go! All done,” you grinned, patting her head after fastening the last of the fancy hair clips you took out from your bun into her braided hair.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” she turned around to pull you into a hug, “you're the bestest person in the world.”

“Uh-uh,” you tutted, wiggling your finger in front of your face to show your disapproval. “You know that's not true, Rosie. Miss Jihyo has been taking care of you for so long and she's the most caring person I know. She's the bestet person, don't forget that.”

“Ahh, you're right,” her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “She's the bestet person in the world but you're right after her.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” you whispered into the crown of her head, rubbing her back. “And you're the sweetest little girl I know.”

. ˚✧・* •

“Come in,” you muttered against your pillow, too tired to leave the sanctity of your bed and open the door. A loud click could be heard as a tall figure stepped inside your room, shutting the door behind.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You immediately recognize the soft, husky voice, heat rising to your cheeks as you struggled to sit upright with the sheets still tangled between your limbs. “M-Minho! Hi–”

The man chuckled at your distressed state, cooing when you buried your head in your hands in embarrassment. ‘Cute,’ he thought.

“I'm not interrupting you, am I?” he asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. You promptly pulled your legs up to your chest to make more space for him. “N-No, I was just taking a small nap since I didn't sleep well last night.”

“I see,” his brows furrowed, “you're still having trouble sleeping?”

You could feel your heart combust at the question. It was stupid, beyond stupid, and you knew—however—it was like your heart had a mind of its own, completely ignoring your rational thoughts.

“I think I'm still getting used to the new setting, perhaps the change of weather,” you added lamely, fiddling with the hem of your nightgown. Suddenly, Minho scooched closer to you, making you look up.

“I'll go ask Seungmin if he has anything other than the tea that he could give you,” he placed his hand tenderly on your thigh, rubbing the soft flesh with the tips of his fingers. The gesture caused a pleasant shiver to run through you and you sighed. “Thank you.”

The two of you stay like that for a bit longer, enjoying the balmy silence before Minho cleared his throat, catching your attention.

“U-Uh… so, I know we haven't been able to spend much time with each other,” the corners of your mouth twitched, and you were very close to reminding him why the two of you didn't meet.

Upon seeing your expression, his cheeks flush. “I know it's because of me—I'm really sorry we had to cancel our dinner plans—Felix ambushed me with an unplanned meeting so I had to take care of that…” he trailed off, his hand still resting on your supple skin.

“It's okay, Minho. I understand that you have many responsibilities as the future King.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't excuse me canceling so abruptly,” he reasoned. “I was hoping we could have the dinner next Saturday—I've had my entire schedule cleared for the day so we can even go somewhere after we eat.”

The smile you gave him was positively contagious, and he found himself beaming. “Okay, then it's settled.”

. ˚✧・* •

As you're walking down the alley leading to the orphanage, you couldn't help but feel like you're being watched. After turning around multiple times to check if you see anyone trailing behind you, quickening your pace in hopes of losing the person, you still can't shake the eerie feeling.

Jihyo had warned you about walking to the orphanage. She mentioned the army barracks being stationed nearby, as well as a brothel just a few blocks down the neighborhood. It wasn't the ideal place to run a children's home, but due to her limited funding, she had to settle for the less than quintessential location.

“Sometimes, there are drunk men wandering the streets,” she whispered hushedly, looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the kids could hear her. “Please be careful, especially after dusk…”

Her warning echoed in your head, making shivers run down your spine as you scanned your surroundings. As you briskly hiked your dress up in hopes of having more mobility, you heard a sudden thud, panic flooding through your veins.

‘Just a little bit more,’ you thought, sighing in relief as you slung the door to the orphanage open, stepping in and shutting the door behind you.

Immediately, you were swarmed with kids flocking to you, little Rosie reaching to envelop you in a tight hug.

“Hello, Y/N,” they all chirped in unison, some grabbing your dress in attempt to pull you into their study room. “Hey, hey!” you giggled, patting their heads. “Don't worry, I know how eager you are to learn. I'm coming!”

And just like that, you're pulled into their own little world, pointing at the chalkboard as you explain today's topic at hand—multiplication. It's a hard topic to grasp, especially for kids who have never gotten a proper education. The children's ages varied—from as young as four or five to the eldest being in their preteens. And because of the huge age difference, you were forced to tailor your explanations to them depending on which category they fell into.

The youngest bunch was occupied with drawing basic shapes (you sat them at the back of the room and handed them some colored pencils along with a few sheets of paper). The rest of the kids were seated before you, all staring at the board intently as you tried to explain the mathematical operation to the best of your abilities.

“Each bird in the sky has two wings. But if there's three of them, how many wings are there in total?”

Judging by the way they all frowned, you could tell they were deep in thought. It took a few seconds, but finally, one of the girls raised her hand.

“There are six wings, right?”

“Correct!” you beamed, pushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Moving over to the board to grab a piece of chalk, you began to draw three birds in total, writing small numbered indexes above each wing.

“See?” you gestured towards the board, “there are six wings in total. Well done, Yujin!”

. ˚✧・* •

“Remind me again, Felix, why are you bothering me in the middle of work?” Minho sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. His golden crown lay on the table beside him, discarded, as he found it pretentious to wear the ornate piece of gold when he found himself in solitude.

“Sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty,” the general snickered, reaching for the paperwork on Minho's desk. In a swift motion, he slammed his hand down on the table, seizing the papers from his hands and placing them on the armchair behind him.

Minho could only scowl at the blatant show of disrespect, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I found out some very interesting information about the Princess.”

Upon hearing that, Minho's ears perked, causing Felix to chuckle. ‘He had become weak,’ he thought, so smitten for that girl.

When he was sure he had his attention, he continued, “A little birdie told me, that the Princess has been sneaking out of the palace quite often.”

Minho's expression faltered for a fraction of a second, but unfortunately, Felix had noticed.

“Why would that be of my concern, Felix? Y/N isn't my possession—I have no interest in controlling her every move. If she feels like taking a breath of fresh air, who am I to stop her?”

“I don't think you're understanding what I'm trying to convey, Your Majesty,” he drawled, smugness radiating off of him in waves. Minho had to hold himself back from decking Felix in the face.

With a groan, he looked him dead in the eye, “then tell me, Felix, what is it that your little spies have found out?”

“She's been sneaking out to the eastern part of the district,” the General noticed how the Prince's throat bobbed. “Almost every day, she leaves in the morning and returns in the evening. Apparently, it's in the area near the barracks and the illegal brothel down on Scarlet street.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued, the only thing that could be heard was the rapid beating of the Prince's heart.

“Oh, and also, one of the servants caught her sneaking into the supply room,” he handed him a report, “there have been things going missing in the past two weeks, and it is starting to affect our scheduled monthly budgeting…”

As Felix watched the gears spinning in Minho's head, he couldn't help but grin wickedly. This was exactly what he had wanted—to plant the seed of doubt in the Prince's mind, allowing in to slowly grow over time until it would eventually take over him.

And you had handed him the perfect means to do so on a silver platter.

“Where do you think she has been going?”

The question slipped from his parted lips in a quiet breath, and Felix couldn't help but admire how calm and collected he sounded. But then, the cracks in his facade slowly started to appear as the corner of his mouth twitched.

And that's when Felix decided to lay the last blow.

“I'm not entirely sure, but I'm betting she's secretly meeting with the loverboy…”

And that's all it took for Minho to storm off, leaving a pleased Felix alone in his office. The Prince's hands were clenched into tight fists, steam practically rising from atop of his head.

‘Stop it!’ his inner voice suddenly commanded, snapping him out of his fit of rage and back into reality. This was you he was talking about. Kind, open-hearted, and diligent Y/N.

What a fool he was, he realized, wanting nothing more than to give himself a smack. There was no need to get unnecessarily angry—he could just go to you and ask you to explain. Especially since that part of the city was very dangerous—perhaps he could just warn you about the potential peril.

After the short pep talk, he finally stood in front of your heavy doors, knocking gently on the dark wood.

He knocked once… Nothing.

Twice… Still no luck.

And when he knocked for the third time without you responding, panic slowly flooded his veins.

You were nowhere to be found.

He searched through your room, turning everything upside down but there was no trace of you.

He knew you were a free spirit but did you always have to worry him so much?

Slamming your bedroom door behind him, he ran down the hall, thinking about where you could have gone. And that's when it hit him—perhaps Felix was truly right about your supposed whereabouts.

Realizing that made shivers run down his spine—he didn't want you anywhere near that street, especially so late at night.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled under his breath, throwing on his overcoat and grabbing the small decorative dagger that hung on the wall. It was his brother's.

After informing one of the servants of where he was headed, he ordered a small group of soldiers to be sent in the same direction in case things truly went south.

“Please, Y/N… be okay.”

. ˚✧・* •

As you stepped outside the orphanage, you cursed at the realization of how late it was. You hadn't planned to stay for so long, but you found yourself helping Jihyo with some chores (and there were so many of them), like washing the laundry, cleaning the living space, and preparing some of the food for tomorrow.

Your mind wandered back to your plans for the upcoming days. The date of your dinner with Minho kept coming closer and closer, which made your heart race. The image of the two of you sitting next to each other, eating some good food and laughing at each other's jokes like a normal engaged couple made the heat rise to your cheeks.

But you couldn't help it—ever since you and Minho had smoothed out the initial misunderstandings between you, you seemed to have fallen for the Prince. Sure, he was cold at first, something that made you keep your distance from him, but you slowly began to realize that there was much more to Lee Minho than meets the eye.

Under his perfect facade, you found him to be a vulnerable man, who was forced to build walls around himself in order to protect his emotions. He loved his brother dearly, and you could tell that his untimely death shook through him like a storm, leaving his soul broken into pieces.

It was just your luck that he seemed to be warming up to you, actually making an effort to interact with you and ask you about your health.

Suddenly, you heard a loud thud, accompanied by some loud voices. Your heart stilled in your chest as you paused, listening intently for any other noises.

You didn't have to wait for long, as a plethora of men's voices echoed through the night, making you realize that they were drunk. Very drunk. Their voices were slurred, sounding like they just got wasted at some bar nearby, but that didn't help to soothe your unease.

Drunk people meant angry people, and you didn't want to risk being in their presence to find out just how angry the men got here.

You began to run straight ahead, hoping that you'd slip by without them even noticing, or at least fast enough so they wouldn't be able to react in any way. You could hear their voices getting closer to you, but alas, you were almost at the end of the street. Hopefully, you'd just take a turn and leave this nasty street behind.

Wrong. What you didn't account for was the light from the only flickered lamp at the beginning of the street getting weaker and weaker. You realized that you had tripped way too late, unable to brace yourself for the fall. A shrill scream left your parted lips, as you cursed yourself for being so damn clumsy.

“What was that?” one of the men grumbled, suddenly sounding perfectly sober. A chorus of mumbles ensued as they all tried to figure out what had just happened. You felt your life wither in front of your eyes as one of the guys pointed in your direction.

You scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping in the process again, but your attempts at getting away were feeble at best. A calloused hand clamped around one of your wrists, pulling you back into a rough body. You wrinkled your nose at the heavy smell of liquor.

“What are you doing here so late at night, pretty girl,” the man slurred, hand reaching to grab your cheek. You had to fight the urge to spit in his face, instead choosing to simply wrinkle your nose in disgust to mask the growing fear coursing through your veins.

“J-Just on a late night stroll… my husband is expecting me home in a few so…” you trailed off, hoping your voice sounded steady enough to convince them. You prayed that the ‘husband’ card would be to your advantage and they'd let you go if you mentioned that you were already with another.

Was it horrible that you had to go to such means? Sure, but at this moment, the only thing you cared for was getting out of here as soon as possible, your pride be damned.

A chorus of oooh's could be heard, followed by boisterous laughter. “You say you have a husband, little one?” the man's grip on your wrists tightened as he ran the rough pad of his thumb down the apple of your cheek. It was now that you realized how powerless you felt without your abilities. You would've kicked his ass if you could just freeze his hands and get out of his grip, but with your current predicament, it wasn't possible

“Well, it seems like your husband really doesn't care about you, little lamb. Especially if he lets you out all alone so late at night.”

The words cut deeper than you expected them to, like someone plunged a knife into your chest, twisting in and rearranging your insides.

“Wait a second!” one of the men in the back shouted, catching the attention of his companions. “She seems familiar…” he trailed off, grabbing your face roughly and moving it to inspect you from different angles.

A few seconds passed, followed by a loud gasp. He dropped your face, mumbling to himself, “i-it's her… it's the Azure Princess for God's sake!”

You winced at his revelation, cursing under your breath. You were hoping they wouldn't recognize you, unable to predict what they would do if they had realized that you were in fact the future Queen. From what you've gathered, your popularity here wasn't exactly what you had been hoping for.

Well, it seems like you would find out soon enough…

“Now well well well,” the man grinned, revealing his rotted teeth as he walked around you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. “This changes everything, don't you think, sweetheart?”

“It doesn't change the fact that your breath stinks, Smelly,” you spat back, trying to hold in the gagging noises in the back of your throat. The man's face turned beet red, fumes nearly coming out of his ears as the other men tried to stifle their snorts, looking away and masking their laughter with a few awkward coughs.

“Damn, she's feisty,” one of them chimed, quickly shutting up when he noticed their leader's piercing glare.

“It seems like you haven't understood the gravity of your situation, witch.”

When you heard him growl, regret washed over you almost immediately. ‘Stupid, Y/N, stupid!’ you chanted in your head, wincing as you felt his grip on you tighten.

Suddenly, a fluttery motion materialized in the corner of your eye. It was pretty dark, the singular lamp at the end of the street not doing a good job of illuminating the area, but you were positive that you saw something move past you.

“It seems like you aren't realizing the gravity of the situation, you fucking bastard!”

You gasped upon hearing the familiar voice, tears of joy prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“M-Minho,” you croaked, relief washing over you like a tidal wave. You shifted slightly, noticing that the man's grip on your hands had loosened slightly, but not enough for you to break his hold.

Minho stiffened at your hoarse voice, anger flooding through his veins. His arm was currently slung around the man's much broader figure, pressing the tip of his dagger to his jugular. His other hand was extended towards the rest of the group, flames bursting from the tips of his fingers.

The men took a few steps back, clearly frightened by the sudden display of power. They all knew what this had meant since only the royal bloodline possessed the ability to wield fire—the Prince had come to get you.

And by the sound of it, he was livid.

“I'll say it only one more time, you pathetic piece of shit, before I fucking burn you to the ground,” he seethed into his ear, pressing the tip of the blade deeper into the man's skin, a few drops of blood dripping down his hand.

“Let. Her. Go!”

Everything that happened after that was a blur. You could vaguely remember the events that followed Minho's sudden appearance. The bastard who held you didn't want to give up, but after feeling blood trickling down his neck, he unwillingly let go of you, pushing you to the ground with a thud.

He turned around to fight with Minho but he never really stood a chance in the first place, the young Prince blowing a gust of flames in his direction, tearing a shrill scream from his throat. After that, the two sparred for a short while, and despite his smaller stature, Minho had managed to land a fair share of blows on the much larger man.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, making it look like he was far gone as he landed a final blow on him, spitting on his wrecked body. You watched the scene with wide eyes, trembling in the chilly, evening air.

Never in your life had you seen a man as angry as Minho was right now.

He was panting, deep, ragged breaths leaving his parted lips as he tucked the dagger behind his belt. Slowly, as if afraid he would scare you, Minho turned around, eyes finding yours.

Upon seeing you shivering on the cold ground, he felt something tug at his heartstrings.

“Princess—” he rasped, wiping his bloodied hand into his leather pants before carefully walking towards you. He crouched beside your figure, running his thumb down your cheek to wipe away the trail of tears that'd fallen.

“You're probably cold, aren't you,” he slid off his coat, gingerly placing it on your shoulders. You accepted the warm garment with a quiet ‘thanks’.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispered, hands sliding under your body and hoisting you up into his arms. You snuggled up into his chest, pressing closer to him in hopes of obtaining some of his body heat.

“Let's get you back,” he bent down to press a chaste kiss to the top of your forehead, smiling gently—a stark contrast to his wrath you witnessed mere minutes ago.

On the way back, once you fell asleep in his arms, Minho allowed himself to let go, unable to keep the strong facade any longer. A few tears trickled down his face as his grip on your form tightened.

‘You must've been so scared,’ he realized in anger. Why were you out so late? Why didn't you protect yourself? From what he had heard, you were quite the powerful ice-bender, and Minho for the love of God couldn't figure out why didn't you try to do anything against the men.

“Your Majesty,” Changbin, the captain of the 1st legion saluted, wincing at the state of his ruler. “I apologize for the delay, we had some troubles during our departure.”

“There's a man lying unconscious a few minutes walking from here. Go and bring him back. I want him sent to the dungeon,” Minho muttered darkly.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

. ˚✧・* •

When you awoke to the birds chirping, sunlight was streaming through the flimsy curtains, making you squint. Your head was pounding, a dull, steady ache accompanying the numb pain around your wrists.

A sudden movement made you look down, noticing Minho half-sitting in what looked like an uncomfortable chair, his head and torso lying over your lap. The morning rays of the sun were illuminating his face, like a glow cast gently on him by the angels.

“Minho—” you stirred him awake, tenderly brushing the sweaty locks of hair from his forehead. He mumbled something unintelligible in response, groaning into your duvet. “Hey, hey—wake up.”

With a sudden jerk, he shot up, tiredly rubbing at his eyes as he slowly came to. “Good morning… uh, how are you feeling?”

“Morning,” you responded lamely, scanning his face and spotting the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he had barely slept all night—which he probably had—but the sight made your heart clench.

“W-Wait a second… morning? How long was I out?”

Upon hearing the panic flaring in your voice, he responded as calmly as he could. “It's okay, don't worry. I, uh, I brought you in yesterday at night so probably about ten hours?”

All the memories of the previous night started to flood back, making you feel dizzy. The world was literally spinning, your head feeling heavy when Minho gently propped you up, helping you find a more comfortable position.

“Go back to sleep, okay?”

And just like that, everything went black.

. ˚✧・* •

“Good afternoon, Princess,” a familiar friendly voice chirped, walking through the ornate doorway. Groaning, you peeled your eyes open, coming face to face with Jeongin, who was holding a tray full of fresh pastries and fruit.

“My mom prepared these for you, they're fresh out of the oven.”

There's a forced cheerfulness in his tone, and you assumed Jeongin was trying to comfort you, not wanting to bring your spirits down.

“Thank you.”

He set the tray on the night table, careful not to hit Minho (whose head was still laying on your lap) with the assortment of treats he brought.

“How long has he been there, do you know?” you suddenly spoke up, keeping your eyes trained on the Prince. You had a suspicion that he hasn't left your side but you were hoping it wasn't true.

“I'm not sure, actually,” Jeongin shrugged, “but I heard that he carried you here all the way. And judging by his appearance, he probably stayed all night with you. He was really worried.”

Glancing up at Jeongin, you tried your hardest to muster up a smile. “Yeah… that sounds like something he would do…”

. ˚✧・* •

It took another few hours for you and Minho to finally talk.

After Jeongin left, you munched on one of the sweet pastries before pulling over the duvet and lying back in your bed. Your hand was gently curled around his hair as you let the exhaustion take over you once again, closing your eyes and welcoming sleep with open arms.

When you awoke, it was already evening, judging by the sun setting behind the windows.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Minho's raspy voice startled you into a seating position, eyes widening. “Ah, sorry… I, uh, I didn't mean to startle you,” he winced, hand reaching for yours as he gently interlocked your fingers.

“Um, it's okay,” you croaked, “I was just surprised, that's all.”

The uncomfortable silence lingered in the air for a bit longer, making you wince. It felt like you had just gone back to being awkward together, and it pained you so much to be unable to talk to him freely.

You shifted in your seat, your hand gently tugging at Minho's in the process, bringing it closer to your own lap. Your ears perked up when you heard him let out a pained groan, panic immediately flooding your veins. You glanced back at him, noticing the soiled bandages peeking from under his linen blouse.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, hastily reaching for the shirt and gently pulling it away, inspecting his injury. You were met with what looked like a knife wound, sloppily wrapped in plain bandages that were soaked with blood.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” the questions began to roll off your tongue in a swift manner as you peered at him from under your lashes, distraught.

Minho, visibly taken aback by your concern, merely shrugged. “It must've happened while I fought off that bastard—I think he managed to graze me with his knife…”

“Grazed? Are you kidding me? Minho, this gash looks deep, did you at least get it disinfected?” you exclaimed worriedly. The way he guiltily avoided your gaze answered your question.

“For God's sake,” you groaned, kicking off the blankets and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed. Alarmed, Minho immediately reached to push you back down.

“I'm just going to get the healing kit,” you murmured under your breath, feet padding against the cold, marble floor. Once you returned, you gestured towards the bed.

“Sit down on the bed, you dummy,” you gave him an incredulous look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll clean your wound.”

A soft blush coated Minho's cheeks as he sat down on the bed, nervously tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. You placed the box on the chair he previously occupied, taking out all the items you would need.

Clearing his throat, Minho muttered, “I didn't know you were a healer.”

You smiled gently, preparing an herb decoction in the small washbasin. “I'm not, I just know a thing or two about treating wounds—there was a shortage of healers in our kingdom during the war.”

“Ah,” Minho awkwardly bit his lower lip, evading your gaze. “I see.”

After you were done with the herbs, you turned around to face him, pointing at his shirt. “Can you take it off? I, uh, I need to access your wound to properly wash it.”

“Yeah, of course,” his lips curved into a smile, hands reaching to pull the shirt over his head. If he noticed the heat rising to your cheeks, he didn't mention it, instead basking in the way your gentle hands began running over his torso as you carefully unwrapped the bandages.

After you were done, you placed the soiled gauze on an empty tray. Your cheeks were warm as you took in Minho in all of his—albeit slightly disheveled and injured—glory. Smooth planes of toned, sun-kissed skin that felt like heaven under your fingertips.

He was so… warm.

And you meant that in the most literal way—his body heat was unmatched. Perhaps it was due to the warm nature of fire, or the generally hot lands of the Crimson land, but his soft skin was radiating so much heat.

Not to mention his hair—dark and touseled, so unlike his usually tidy and neat updo. You had to resist the urge to run your hair through his curly locks.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

You immediately snapped your gaze back up to him, face heating up in embarrassment. “I-I… I wasn't—”

“Weren't what? Staring at me?” he smirked, his ego swelling up after having caught you staring at him for so long. Well, to be fair, it was nice to know that he had a similar effect on you as you did on him. When he noticed how flustered you were, his tone took on a softer edge.

“It's okay, Princess—no need to be embarrassed. After all, we will be soon husband and wife.”

Sadly, his statement only riled you on more as you grabbed your supplies.

“This may sting a little,” it's the only warning you gave him before beginning to gently run the wet cloth over his wound.

“Ah-ah,” he moaned in pain, clutching onto the bedsheets as if his life depended on it. Your eyes widened at the sinful sound, bitting at your lower lip.

“S-Sorry.”

Once you deemed the wound clean enough, you placed your palms against his toned chest, gently pushing him down on the bed.

“Stop it,” you grumbled, pinching his waist once you saw him wiggle his eyebrows suggestively… “It'll be easier for me to properly rinse the wound with the herbs if you're laying down.”

Chuckling, Minho submitted to your wishes, his back making contact with the bed. You kneeled beside him, grabbing a clean cloth before dipping it in the herbal tincture. Once it was completely soaked, you gently wrung it over his wound, wincing as he groaned in pain.

You repeated the process a few more times, until the wound was relatively clean, save for the few streaks of blood on the pinkish flesh.

“ ‘M sorry,” you mumbled quietly, reaching for a small tin. “I'm almost done.”

“It's okay, no need to apologize.”

After that, you applied some sage salve onto the wound and proceeded to tightly bandage it with a new gauze.

“Thank you,” Minho slid up into a seating position, pushing the sweaty hair from his forehead. You could tell that he was still recovering from the stinging sensations, breathing shallowly.

“It's no problem, just make sure to visit the palace physician to make sure everything is alright.”

When he didn't respond, you noticed how tense his shoulders looked. His brows were furrowed, almost as if he was deep in thought and he kept balling his hand into a fist before unclenching it. Seemingly, something was bothering him.

“Are you okay, Minho?” you decided to voice your concerns, nervously biting your lip.

“I–, uh… yeah. Don't worry about it, it's kinda stupid,” he chuckled anxiously, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Hey, hey… look at me,” you gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you. “Your happiness matters just as much as mine. If there's something bothering you, please tell me. Maybe I can help…”

“That's the thing,” he laughed bitterly, “I don't think you can help me with this.”

You peered at him, confused.

“It's just that— I…” the words seemed to get caught in his throat. “Were you with Jisung last night?”

As soon as he uttered the sentence, his head fell into his hands, embarrassed. “No, whatever, you don't have to answer. This is just the jealousy speaking—I shouldn't be concerned about that when your life was in danger yesterday—” he rambled on, clenching his hands into fists—a habit you have picked up on as a sign of stress.

“Minho,” you stroked his cheek with your palm, “Please, just look at me.”

He slowly lifted his head, eyes staring into yours. You noticed the wetness at the corners of his eyes—were those tears? You didn't ask, however, not wanting to put him on the spot. He seemed to struggle with being vulnerable and open with people, so you figured it would be better not to mention it.

“Why would you think I was with Jisung?”

“I don't know,” he grumbled, wiping his eyes. “You seem to like him a lot… and when Felix told me that you were sneaking out to the eastern district, I-I, I just figured you were secretly seeing him, you know… since the barracks are in the east too.”

“Oh Minho,” you thumbed the tear rolling down his cheek, “I didn't even know that the barracks were nearby. I promise that's not what happened. Me and Jisung, um, we talked it out already and there's nothing between us. We haven't actually spoken for ages…”

“I know… I should've known,” he corrected himself, “but I don't want you to cut him off completely, Y/N. I understand that he's someone close to you so please, don't feel like you can't spend any time with him. At least not too much,” he added after a short pause, making you giggle.

“Alright. I appreciate it, Minho.”

Despite Minho initially looking like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, you still felt like something was bothering him. Gently, you nudged him in the side, whispering, “Is that all that was bothering you?”

“Actually,” he breathed out, “it's not. There's so much about you that I don't know. You're such a fucking mystery to me, you know.”

You could hear the frustration in his voice, making the coil in your stomach tighten. Running a hand down his back, you whispered, “what exactly do you want to know?”

“Everything. Like what body wash you use cause it smells fucking amazing,” he grumbled, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Why thank you,” you giggled, attempting a curtsy in your seating position, “I use the same vanilla body wash I've used for my entire life.”

After a moment, his hand reached out for yours, gently interlocking your fingers.

“If I'm being honest, I still don't understand what exactly happened yesterday. Why were you out so late? Where even were you?”

“I was at the orphanage,” you mumbled quietly.

“Come again?”

“I was at the orphanage,” you repeated, this time louder, looking away in embarrassment. "When I found out in what poor conditions the place was, I decided to come every day and help clean the place and teach the kids how to read and count.”

“Of course you did,” Minho breathed out in exasperation. “I was so damn stupid—the missing supplies—I should've realized it was something like that. I know how sweet and selfless you are, Y/N, and trust me, it's one of your most magnificent qualities, but for once, just for once, could you have been a little selfish and thought of yourself?”

“What do you mean–”

“I mean that you shouldn't have stayed so long, but most importantly, you should've defended yourself!” he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he ran his other hand through his hair.

“They say that you're one of the most powerful benders from the Azure kingdom, so how come you didn't do anything to fend them off? They should've been small fish compared to you…”

And there it was. Minho had just asked the million-dollar question that you've been trying to avoid for the past few weeks. Your heartbeat quickened as sweat started to gather on your forehead.

“I-I…” you meekly whispered, the words not coming out. Minho noticed the apparent change in demeanor, as well as the way your shoulders began to tremble.

“Hey, it's okay, don't worry. You can tell me anything,” he coaxed you, gently gripping your waist and placing you on his lap. Brushing the hair out of your face, he whispered, “you can lean on me whenever something's bothering you, you know? That's what I'm here for.”

“I lost my p-powers, Minho.”

There… you said it. You uttered the sentence you hoped you would never have to say out loud. You awaited his reaction, the anger, confusion, and frustration that would follow.

Nothing.

Gently peering at him from under your lashes, you found his lips to be curled into a soft smile. Pity, you quickly realized. Oh no, he would break it to you know—the engagement would be broken off, your kingdoms would be at war again, you realized in panic.

“I-I couldn't tell you since I knew how important that aspect was to the royal court. As soon as they find out,” you hiccuped, “they'll formally break off the engagement… and my people… the Azure land c-can't take more war, Minho! We'll be obliterated so please, d-don't—”

“Do you seriously think I would break off the engagement because of that?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“Seriously, Y/N, I know I acted like a selfish prick at first, but do you really think that lowly of me? That I'd send you back home along with my army hot on your heels just because of that?”

Your eyes were glossy, “I… I don't know,” you admitted after a while, blinking away the tears. “Everything was fine before, but one day, I just couldn't summon them. And I was too scared to tell anyone since the final clause of the treaty is that the two of us marry and produce a powerful heir that should inherit both our abilities…”

Minho blushed furiously at the mention of an heir, the tips of his ears turning beet red. “I, uh, we'll find a cure, don't worry. If I have to, I'll travel with you far and wide to visit every healer in the kingdom.”

His words soothed your fears as you melted in his embrace. “T-Thank you, Min.”

He softened at the nickname. “Don't worry about it, everything will be okay.”

The two of you sat like that for another couple of minutes, Minho rubbing your back as you calm down from the onslaught of emotions. It was a bit embarrassing for you to cry in front of him, but despite the slight distress, you were glad you got those things off your chest.

And it seemed like it was quite a productive conversation for Minho as well. You could tell that it was rare for him to open up as much as he did. He wasn't used to being vulnerable in front of others, especially after his brother's passing.

Later at night, after he had carried you bridal style to your chambers, he told you that the two of you could visit the orphanage together first thing in the morning. After that, he kissed you on the forehead and wished you sweet dreams.

The cool breeze slipping from the open window made you shiver as you tangled your limbs into the sheets. A particular sentence from Minho had stuck with you, something that he said in between his frustrated exclamations of how careless you were.

“Please, Y/N. I was so scared history would repeat itself. I can't lose another one… I can't lose you…”

. ˚✧・* •

“Here you go,” Minho handed you fresh pastry, paying the woman as the two of you strolled through the market. It was pretty early in the morning, the sun still rising, as you walked hand in hand.

“You can't wear this,” you poked him on the shoulder, “everyone will recognize you.”

“So what? You're not really that incognito yourself,” he pointed at your face. “Soon, everyone in the nation will recognize you as my wife, and therefore, their lawful queen.”

“Minho,” you smacked your lips, hiding your embarrassment. “C'mon, let's go.”

The Minho that stood in front of you now looked quite unlike the Minho you were used to from the palace. His hair was dissheveled, the mop of unruly curls sitting atop his head and glimmering more than any crown could.

He was dressed in simple clothing, natural colors, and clean lines, both of which accentuated his sturdy build and the rugged charm he exuded.

You, on the other hand, were dressed in a plain, beige dress that fit around your body snuggly, a thin, leather belt fastened around your waist.

“Wait a second, I have an idea!” Minho exclaimed, tugging at your belt loop to bring you closer to him. His hand gently brushed against your neck, fingertips igniting all the sensitive nerve endings.

He pulled out a beautiful silken scarf, looping it under your hair before tying a knot, bringing your locks into a ponytail. “There, now you'll fit in.”

On your way to the orphanage, Minho acted as your tour guide, pointing at all the noteworthy monuments and retelling you the history of the city like he was a walking textbook. When you pulled out your trusty leather-bound notebook to take some notes, he immediately asked about its contents, and when he jutted his lower lip, you couldn't deny him.

“Well… it's actually just notes I took on the kingdom's history, culture, and the problem areas. I talked to some of the citizens and asked them about possible areas of friction.”

The memories of your amateur interviews came back to mind, heat rising to your cheeks. Minho seemed awfully intrigued, ears piqued in interest.

“I had told myself that I would bring up these issues once we shared some dinner but since that never happened…”

You trailed off solemnly, causing Minho to wince. He knew it wasn't proper of him to flake out like that but the sudden meeting that Felix sprang on him required his immediate presence.

“Anyways,” you turned the page in your notebook, beginning to read off all of your notes, “I was told multiple times that some of the men in power abuse their status. They leverage things like fresh water and raise taxes and there's no one to stop them.”

Minho frowned at the revelation, unsure of what to say. “That's not all,” you continued, looking him in the eye. “Apparently, you're very hard to reach—countless people have tried to set up an audience with you but they were never allowed—and these are only the few that aren't petrified of you.”

“Hmm, I honestly didn't expect that. Most of the internal affairs like requests for an audience go through a couple of people before they reach me—I'll have to ask them about that.”

Once the two of you reached the orphanage, Minho's hand nervously found yours. You could tell he was beginning to feel anxious, so you resorted to caressing his knuckles with your thumb.

“Don't worry, the kids will love you,” you beamed, brushing a curly lock from in front of his eyes. Minho blushed at the affectionate gesture, your hooded gaze unhelpful to the pink blossom on his cheeks.

“If you say so…”

Tapping your knuckle against the unpolished wood, you knocked a few times. When the door opened, Jihyo popped up from behind, grinning upon seeing you.

“Hey, welcome,” she pulled you into a tight hug. Only then did she notice your companion, welcoming him with a wave. “Are you Y/N's husband?” she gushed, holding the door for the two of you to enter. Heat rose to your cheeks at her words, but Minho simply smirked, “Not yet, but we're engaged.”

“Ah, this is so sweet,” she placed her hand in front of her lips, cooing. “Young love—it's so refreshing to see nowadays.”

As soon as you stepped into the cramped living room, a dozen or so kids immediately flocked to you, welcoming you with a smile.

“Hii, Y/N. Did you bring any sweets?”

“N/N, I missed you so much.”

“Who's this man? Why did he come with you?”

You chuckled at their inquiries, gently stroking their heads. “One by one, guys. I have something for you, don't worry, Gyu,” you nodded towards one of the boys who instantly lightened up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aww, I missed you too, Rosie,” you hugged the pigtailed girl, turning around to face Minho. “And this is… Lino, he's very excited to meet you all—greet him warmly, please!”

Minho flushed at the nickname, barely concealing the smile that was peaking through his scowl. You laughed at the expression he made, the sound still ringing in his ears hours later like the most beautiful melody.

To see you like this, he couldn't get enough of it. He stood by the large glass window, resting his back against it as he watched you from afar, drunk on the sight. Not that looking at you wasn't a blessing in and of itself—far from that, actually.

Minho used to pride himself on being able to resist all things irresistible.

He learned how to accept defeat, and how to deal with things he never thought he would get in life. How to deal with the repercussions of watching people from afar have what he desperately wanted, but never thought he could have.

A normal, domestic life.

It used to ache him so much… after his brother's untimely death, he was faced with more than one cruel occurrence. He would have to be King. and because of that, any sort of life, with just a semblance of normalcy, should've been ruled out. Right?

Wrong… maybe.

The joyful screams and beams of laughter rang through the air as you chased around with the kids, your dress floating around whimsically. Oh how he longed for you to smile like that in his presence, he longed to be the cause for your happiness, just like these little rascals seemed to be.

The last blow to his already fragile and tender heart was when one of the girls jumped into your arms, which resulted in your holding her like one would hold a newborn, rocking her from side to side. He nearly burst at the sight, mind immediately wandering to what your kids would look like.

‘Fuck,’ he thought. It almost felt like you were doing this to him on purpose, trying to rile him up. He dismissed the idea though when you turned around to face him, a wide, innocent smile on your lips.

“C'mon, Min. Come join us, we're gonna play tag in the backyard!”

And just like that, Minho knew there was no going back.

. ˚✧・* •

“Teach him a lesson!” one of the men shouted, earning himself at least a dozen ‘yeah's’ from the gathered crowd. “Show him how it's done here in the Crimson land!”

Ignoring the hollers, Jisung wiped the blood from his busted lip, straightening up as he waited for the General to strike again. Unfortunately for him, the loud noises around him proved to be detrimental to his ability to focus, slowing down his reaction time.

Another round of applause rumbled as Felix managed to land another blow on him, this time hitting him straight in the jaw.

“You're awfully slow today, aren't you,” he remarked, brows shooting up. Jisung shot him a nasty glare, “And you seem awfully chatty. You think you can manage to win this battle by talking me to death?”

His taunt didn't draw out the reaction he wanted, the General not even blinking. “No, but I might beat you into a pulp if you don't step up your game, loverboy.”

Jisung ground his teeth at the taunt, knowing fully well what Felix was getting at. His irritation must've shown, as the most shit-eating grin appeared on the General's lips.

He just hit the nail in the coffin.

“Don't call me that,” he tried his hardest to sound intimidating, but it rather had the opposite effect. “Why shouldn't I? Isn't that who you are—a guard helplessly in love with the Princess? You must know that relationships like these are merely fantasies, right?”

When the lieutenant didn't answer, he continued, still watching his moves with a hawk eye. “Face, it—you'll never get–”

And that was all it took for Jisung to clench his fists

It wasn't for about ten minutes that Felix was declared the official winner of the match as he landed the final blow, punching his opponent in the gut. Jisung was sent flying across the makeshift ring, coughing up a bit of blood.

As he sat on the dirty floor, surrounded by a few dozen men, soldiers and farmers alike, he felt like the ground should swallow him up alive. His cheeks were warm, a soft shade of red blossoming from his neck upwards. Whether it was from the exertion his body went through or the bustling humiliation coursing his veins, he couldn't tell.

Tears welled up in his eyes making him hiccup, his lashes fluttering as Felix delivered the last kick… Before he could splutter out the words to give up, the ground was torn from under his wobbly feet and everything went black.

. ˚✧・* •

“Your Majesty!”

The loud knock wakes you from your peaceful slumber, a tired groan escaping your lips. “Coming,” you muttered, slinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

You paddled on your bare feet towards the wooden door, opening it to come face to face with one of the guards. Immediately, you felt a twinge of embarrassment as you realized that you were only wearing your silken night slip. The guard, however, didn't react in any sort of way, handing you a large rose bouquet wrapped indelicate wrapping paper.

“His Majesty ordered for this to be delivered to you,” he noted, before bowing down and walking away. The heat rose to your cheeks as you stood in the doorway with the large assortment of flowers, startled to the core.

You never would've pegged Minho as the romantic type…

Inside your room, you placed the bouquet on the table, noticing that a small, paper note had been attached to one of the flowers. Your fingers worked gently to unfold it, reading the contents in one go.

For Princess Y/N,

I hope you like them, sweetheart ♥ can't wait for our dinner tomorrow…

LMH

. ˚✧・* •

Later that day, you and Minho bumped into each other during lunchtime, and he suggested that the two of you grab something from the kitchen and sneak out on the balcony to eat.

“I looked over the issue with Count Choi and Viscount Kim,” he mentioned after swallowing down the last piece of the chicken pie. “Indeed, the two of them had gotten many complaints on how they ruled their regions; I can't believe this hasn't been brought to my attention.” his fists clenched, showing how frustrated he was with the situation.

“There's nothing we can do about that now, Minho. I'm just happy that we found out. It seems like this is a recurring pattern thought…” you trailed off solemnly, gazing at the city.

“Yeah. I'll have to have a little talk with some of the men in the Royal Court—this behavior is unacceptable.”

“It's good to know that you are interested in these things, I can tell that you care.”

Minho looked away, trying not to seem fazed by your words. His hand found its way onto yours, gently enveloping your palm, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

“I'm also looking into what can be done for the orphanage,” he relaxed his posture, tipping his head towards the blue sky. “So far, it seems that they lack mostly funding, so I'm going over it with the palace accountant—it seems like we'll be able to give them a more than healthy sum every month that should be more than enough to run the place smoothly. They should also be able to afford to employ one or two more people to keep the place running.”

Your smile brightened at the thought of Jiyho having some support, both financial and physical. She worked herself nearly to death, doing everything she could to keep the place going.

“Thank you, Minho,” you whispered, your words barely audible.

The Sun was glimmering, painting the sky in hues of gold. You gazed into the distance, a sense of newfound longing in your heart. “The sky's beautiful, isn't it?” you entwined your hand with his, voicing out your thoughts.

“Not as beautiful as you are,” came his breathless response. Your heartbeat quickened in surprise as you slowly turned around to face him. His lips were gently parted as he gazed at you with an intensity you've never seen before like you held the entire Milky Way in your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, your fingers numbly clutching onto the hem of your gown.

“You know you're the smartest, kindest, most stunning woman in the entire kingdom?”

You spluttered, unsure of how to respond to his words. The weight of his compliments hung in the air, an unexplainable tension forming between the two of you. Minho's gaze softened at your bashfulness, hand cupping your face.

“I mean that, you know,” his thumb gently stroked your cheek, causing you to nearly melt from his mere touch. “I know it's been difficult for you to adjust to your new life, but I want you to know that I'm so proud of you.”

A shiver ran down your spine, lashes fluttering at the pretext of what was going to happen next.

“I've been waiting for this for so damn long,” as if on cue, Minho breathed out, his warm breath fanning your cheek. You could almost feel the plush of his oh-so-soft lips on yours, excitement running through your veins.

Yet it seemed like the universe had a personal vendetta against you when you heard the door crash open.

“Your Majesty!” a guard in his early twenties burst in, bowing down.

You instantly jumped away from Minho, flustered from the sudden interruption. On the other hand, Minho's reaction was completely opposite to yours.

“What is it?” he grumbled, a light blush blossoming on his cheeks. Why did this always happen to him?

“We have just received a report that a famine had broken out in the northern villages. The last few caravans sent by Your Majesty had been attacked, resulting in there not being enough resources to keep the people in the area fed.”

A beat of silence followed before any of you spoke, the guard promptly excusing himself and leaving the two of you to wallow in the remains of the depressing statement. Your hand was still holding on to his, so you could feel the way he tensed. His brows were drawn together, lips set in a firm line as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

“Minho,” you tried to gently call his name, rubbing his back in hopes of soothing his anxieties. You were worried too, but you could tell how much more this affected him, despite his best efforts to hide it.

“Y/N,” he nervously bit down on his lip, “I know we were going to spend some time together—”

“Go,” you reassured him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I understand that this is a situation of utmost importance.”

His expression relaxed into a smile. “Thank you, I appreciate you being so understanding.”

“Oh please,” you waved him off, “it's nothing. I would gladly accompany you if you'd like, but I fear I would mainly impose…”

“Nonsense,” he held out his hand for you to take, like a true gentleman. “I'd welcome your presence. Besides, it's about time that the officials start getting used to seeing you around—after all—you don't think I'll the only one to decide on all the matters, don't you?” he grinned.

“If that's the case, I'd love to come.”

. ˚✧・* •

The air in the council chambers was as suffocating as the freezing winters of your land.

The room was laid out rather nicely, you presume. A voluminous ornate table at which all the council members gathered, large windows allowing copious amounts of sunlight to stream in through, and elegant paintings of the entire royal bloodline hanging off the walls.

Minho, as the Crown Prince and rightful heir to the throne, occupied the head of the table, and with the crown perched on top of his head, he looked more like the menacing ruler everyone made him out to be. You were sat right by his side, ears piqued as you listened intently to their conversation.

“Councilman Moon,” Minho's voice bounced off the walls, the authoritative edge ever so present. “I don't understand the point you are making. There's a famine breaking out—in what world is that not a priority matter for us to discuss?”

“If I may,” you intervene, gathering the attention of the rest of the councilmembers and Minho himself.

“Of course, Princess,” he spoke softly as if reassuring you with the gentlest of smiles.

“Thank you. So I wanted to follow up on what the Prince had said,” you brought your hands from your lap to the table. “Allowing a famine to spread would be way too risky—especially once it spirals out of control… Trust me, I have seen my Kingdom nearly fall apart due to there not being enough resources,” your brows furrowed at the unpleasant memories. “And that's not to mention that it would be a terrible decision to make, morally speaking.”

One of the men let out a distasteful scoff, and everyone's gazes immediately focused on him.

“Is there something amusing that you'd like to share with the rest of us, councilman Jung?” Minho snarled in his direction.

“Not exactly, Your Majesty. I merely believe that the Princess shouldn't speak on matters she outside of her scope of understanding.”

Before Minho could respond, you cut in. “Why do you believe that I possess no understanding of this topic? I have seen what hunger had done to my people, and I merely want to prevent history from repeating itself here.”

“What do you propose we do then, Your Majesty?” one of the kinder council members spoke up, intrigue lacing his tone.

“Well, first of all, I'd suggest that each caravan carrying supplies is accompanied by a small cell of soldiers that will make sure that no one comes to harm and that the supplies will be safely delivered to their final destination.”

Immediately, councilman Jung interrupted you, fiery gaze piercing through you.

“And where do you suggest we find all these soldiers? Trained men do not grow on trees, Your Majesty.”

“There's plenty of soldiers in the barracks right now, if I'm not mistaken,” you retorted, challenging him. “The war has ended, which means that most of the troops are now back home. Undoubtedly, there should be enough manpower to make sure that basic resources are redistributed in the land, isn't that correct?”

“Indeed, it may appear so, but what if conflict won't cease? The union has not yet been officially consummated, so who's to say what may or may not happen?”

Silence followed, and you were sure that if you tried, you would've heard a pin drop.

“E-Excuse me?” you managed to stutter after a while, frustration and confusion mingling inside of you. “What do you mean by that?”

“Yeah,” Minho cut in angrily, “what do you mean by that, councilman Jung? ‘Cause if I remember correctly, you were the same person that suggested we force the Azure kingdom to surrender since you believed that they would not agree to our terms. But they have, and Princess Y/N seated here beside us is living proof of that.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to—”

“Not to mention that I do not appreciate your accusatory and rude tone. You spoke as if doubting the validity of this union. The official wedding ceremony will be held shortly, but that doesn't give you a reason to spout such denunciatory ies.”

The rest of the council was quiet, everyone holding their breaths as they watched the brawl between the cantankerous councilman and the Prince.

“To bring this meeting to an end, I propose that we go with the Princess' idea. She made many righteous points and I believe that this is the minimum we can do for our entire nation to remain prosperous.” he shot councilman Jung a venomous glare, effectively silencing him.

“And lastly, I would like to add something that should have been obvious in the first place.”

Scanning the room, eyes lingering on each and every one of the men present. “In no way are you to ever disrespect the Princess in such a manner, have I made myself clear?”

“Transparent, Your Majesty.”

. ˚✧・* •

The man ground his teeth, nervously walking around the room with his hand curled in his hair. This wasn't what he wanted to hear on a fine Saturday morning, not at all.

A guard slipped into his room, handing him the folded piece of paper and whispering in his ear. “Everything will go according to plan. He folded under the pressure immediately and agreed to do as you say.”

At least there was some good news.

. ˚✧・* •

The Sun had already begun to set when you started to get ready for your much-anticipated dinner. Despite how excited and giddy you were, the anxiousness stored in the back of your mind prevailed, causing you to stress unnecessarily.

You opted to prepare another cup of fresh tea, the healer having brought another batch. It was an improved recipe, he told you, and before you even took a sip, you could smell the sharp scent of apricots filling your nostrils.

A few isolated petals of a blush pink hue floated amongst the mostly-clear liquid. You downed most of the tea in a long, drawn-out gulp. The loud ticking of the clock reminded you that you were indeed on a time crunch, so you stood up, heading towards your closet to pull out the prized item of clothing.

Placing the red gown against your body, you twirled around like a giggly twelve-year-old, your heart racing at what would become of today's evening. You gently peeled off your simple dress, slipping into the bright-red one. Shivers ran down your spine as the satin made contact with your heated skin, leaving a blissful trail of tranquility.

You tied the bow at the back, tightening the gown at your waist before looking in the mirror, a pleased smile forming on your lips.

All that was left now was to tie your hair into a slightly more intricate updo that you would usually do, followed by a light spritz of your favorite vanilla-scented perfume.

A sudden wave of nausea crashed over you.

You had to bring your back against the wall, inhaling deeply to calm your erratic heartbeat. ‘Everything will be okay,’ you tried to tell yourself, pressing your hands to your cheeks. There was no reason to be worried, but then why was your heart racing like a horse running through a field?

It was one of those… that supposed gut feeling that you've heard, even read of. But you merely ignored it, sliding on a plain, gold bracelet around your wrist that matched the golden hems and stitchings of your dress.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of your chambers, both excitement and qualm coursing through your veins.

. ˚✧・* •

The halls were unusually empty, void of the customary liveliness and buzz you had attuned to.

The sleeves of your gown draped over your shoulders comfortably as you walked towards the grand dining room where you were supposed to meet Minho.

You nearly felt on top of the world, so much having changed since you first arrived. It felt like you finally had something to look forward to in this union—perhaps—that you wouldn't be shackled to a loveless marriage as you had previously believed.

The room was just a few more turns away. You could already smell the unmistakable aroma of brassiered chicken and many other southern delicacies.

As the tip of your foot made contact with the ground, you felt like the world was being torn from under your feet. With a quiet gasp, you folded over like a ragdoll, falling limply to the ground. A sudden burst of cramps ramped through you, causing you to convulse on the floor, hoarse cries of pain leaving your dry lips.

Once the sudden rupture of pain came to a stop, you nearly moaned in relief. Sweat lined at your forehead as your hands tried to grasp against the marble floor, attempting to support you into a seating position. But to no avail.

It took approximately a minute or two for the world around you to go pitch black.

. ˚✧・* •

Tick tock.

Minho watched the grandfather clock tick on the wall, brows furrowing at your absence. It was currently six-forty… you were ten minutes late. If it weren't for the dozen or so maids and cooks lining the wall of the dining room, he wouldn't have been as worried as he was now.

‘News traveled fast,’ he recalled, and what other new gossip could there be on a fine Saturday evening if not something as scandalous as the Crown Princess standing up her fiancé.

It was highly unusual for you to be late, that was what struck him first. What's more, it would be nearly unheard of for you to turn up late knowing how important today's dinner was for your image, especially amongst the palace staff.

Adjusting the collar of his crisp white blouse underneath his navy suit, he swallowed thickly, brushing off the nonexistent dust from his pressed pants. The golden fastenings of his jacket clinked, grabbing the attention of the people around him.

He nervously bit down on his lip, ignoring the curious glances from some of the younger maids as he kept his eyes trained on the clock. He knew that there was one more thing on their minds right now, and it was undoubtedly the odd color of his outfit.

It was unusual for a Crimson ruler to adorn the colors of the perceived enemy. He was taking a huge gamble by wearing navy, but he had hoped that the sightings of the two of you each wearing the other nation's colors would stir something within the people.

‘I hope you comes soon,’ he thought, sighing at the sight of the now cold food…

. ˚✧・* •

Jisung was walking down the hall when he suddenly noticed something peeking from around the corner. It was a small tuft of red fabric, or at least it seemed like it from afar.

He began walking briskly towards the spot—it was highly unusual for the palace floors to be littered with anything, having been cleaned multiple times a day. As he was getting closer and closer, he could see more of this supposed ‘piece of cloth’, rather, it was beginning to look more like… an arm?

His eyes widened in surprise, mouth ajar as an unconscious body came into view, limbs twisted under a gorgeous red gown.

“Y/N?!” he cried when he finally recognized you, his insides clenching at the sight. Your lips were parted, a sliver of drool on your cheeks. Nearly instantly (or as quickly as his shocked state allowed him to), he bent down to your level, fingers pressing to your neck to check your pulse.

‘Thank god,’ he thought, feeling the albeit slowed drumming of your heart. His hands slid under your body, hoisting you up with a grunt. His stomach was still aching from having been kicked there repeatedly by the General, but the adrenaline proved to do wonders for him once again as he briskly walked down the hall, heading for your bed chambers.

When he passed a maid, he immediately ordered, “The Princess is unconscious! Go get the palace healer and inform His Majesty about it.”

The girl hastily nodded, running off in what he presumed to be the direction of the infirmary.

. ˚✧・* •

For the nth time in the past few weeks, Minho felt his heart plummet to the depths of the sea. There was a weird buzz in his head, one that drowned out everything else, as the last bits of cohesion exited his body.

He had just been informed that you were taken into the infirmary by Jisung and that he requested for him to come as soon as possible.

When he had hoped there was a solid reason as to why you didn't arrive, this wasn't what he had meant.

Before he even knew it, his legs were carrying him in the direction of your bed chambers, heart erratically pounding against his ribcage. His ears suddenly picked up on what seemed to be an argument between two males. The closer he got to your room, the louder he heard one of them scream while the other begged for him to stop.

What the hell was going on?

His question was answered as soon as he burst through the door, panting, eyes scanning the room. He noticed you lying on the bed, frumpled, with your limbs curled under the sheets. Your face displayed a twisting of emotions, mainly pain, and exhaustion and it looked like you were knee-deep in a living nightmare.

Before he could come up to you and check how you were doing, he noticed something that concerned him highly.

In the corner of the room kneeled Jisung, pressing Seungmin to the floor, rage written all over his face. The healer underneath him thrashed in his hold, begging to be released.

“I'll ask you again: what the fuck did you put in that cup?” he growled in his ear, twisting his arms against his back. Seungmin writhed, bitting down on his lip. “I-I didn't do anything—you must've been mistaken!”

The two of them seems so engrossed in the brawl that they didn't even notice the Prince standing above them, livid.

“What's going on?”

His tone was dripping in authoritativeness, anger licking away at his insides. Both Seungmin and Jisung immediately snapped their heads towards the Prince, the latter spluttering to form a coherent answer.

“I brought Y/N inside and asked for them to call for you and a healer. This guy over here tried sneaking something into her water while I was tending to her.”

Minho's eye twitched as he glanced at Seungmin with newfound anger. “Is that true, Seungmin? Should I expect the palace healer to sneak things into people's drinks now?”

“Y-Your Majesty, I-I was merely…”

“You were merely what, Seungmin? I'm dying to know here,” he replied venomously.

“I-I… okay, I admit I did it, okay?” he suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks. Both Minho and Jisung watched him, stunned.

“You admit to what?” Jisung grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up until he was facing him directly. “What did you do?”

“I… the General… he,” Seungmin hiccuped, “He threatened me and my family. He said he would make me and my family suffer if I didn't…”

Minho clenched his fists, nearly growling, “What did he tell you to do? Answer me!” All of his attention was on the young healer, rage coursing through him.

“He made me add poison to her tea!”

Silence. If he had tried, he could've heard a pin drop.

Then, all the muscles in his face contorted into a mask of pure fury and disgust. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, nearly drawing blood as he pushed Jisung away, grabbing the trembling healer and pinning him against the wall.

His stare was icy, venomous, even but what scared Seungmin, even more, was the calmness in his voice when he spoke, “What did you put in her tea?”

“I-I'm not sure… the General just gave me a s-small pouch of flowers and told me to add it to her tea mixture. I r-really don't know, please…” he cowered under his stare, trembling.

His pathetic sobs were interrupted by a loud cough coming from your bed. Minho immediately let go, running towards you as Seungmin's body slumped to the ground, quiet sobs wracking through him.

“Y/N,” he called out for you, gently moving your head to the side so you were facing him. Your cheeks were warm, just like the rest of your body, and you felt unimaginably dizzy like the entire world was spinning around you.

“M-Minho,” you croaked, pupils dilating as you clutched onto his hand like it was your lifebuoy. “I-I feel sick…”

His heart cracked upon hearing your voice… so broken. “I-I…”

Before he could even say anything, something burst through the door, causing him to look up.

Or rather, someone.

“What happened?” Chan panted, directing the question at Jisung, but Minho was the one who answered, bsikly explaining what he had heard from Jisung and the servant.

“The Princess was poisoned?” a higher voice shouted in disbelief, only coming to view as she stepped out from behind Chan, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Minho seemed to recognize her from passing, but couldn't exactly place her face. Her hair was swept into a simple bun and she was dressed in a plain dress with an apron, making Minho believe she was one of the maids.

“I-I, uh, if I may, Your Majesty,” she gestured in your general direction, averting the Prince's eyes. “May I have a look? I have some knowledge in toxins and maybe I could…”

“Please,” he cut her off weakly, “Go ahead.”

Yuna crouched down beside you, wiping the sweat off your forehead with her sleeve. “How are you feeling, Your Majesty?”

“Y-Yuna,” you smiled at her, hand reaching to grab hers. “How have you been?”

“I'm sorry, I don't think it's the proper time to discuss this now,” she turned around at the three men behind her. “Please bring me some water and a clean cloth.”

Once Chan handed her the filled washbasin and a rag, she dipped the fabric in the water and placed it over your forehead.

“I'll need you to tell me exactly how you're feeling…”

You began to describe the type of pain you're going through, the nausea, and the pounding of your head. Yuna took notice of the way your pupils dilated, the gears in her head spinning as she tried to figure out what could've caused your poisoning. After all, the first step to finding an antidote was identifying the poison.

Suddenly, she turned around with a jerk, scanning the room. “Do you still have the mug she drank the tea from?”

Jisung immediately sprung up, grabbing two that were on your table and handing them over to the girl.

“It's useless,” Seungmin rasped from the corner of the room, guilt written all over his face. “The General was positive that it would be over once she drank it,” he supplied unhelpfully, ignoring the nasty glares he received.

Despite the healers' words, Yuna looked inside the first mug, frowning when she saw nothing. It was empty. When she began inspecting the second one, a gasp erupted from her throat as she dropped it.

The ceramic mug shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“T-That was a petal from…” she turned around to look at them, all hanging on her lips. “T-The Nerium Oleander…”

Chan frowned darkly, having heard the name somewhere before. “Isn't that the flower they used to poison—”

“Y-Yeah… it's how the Prince of the West was poisoned hundreds of years ago.”

Minho glowered, remembering the story from a passage in his history book. It was the most infamous case of poisoning, something remembered by all. His heart clenched at the thought of you facing the same end.

“I-Isn't there anything you can do?” he pleaded, voice cracking midway as he glanced back at you, tossing and turning in your bed.

“I—” she bit down on her lip, eyebrows furrowing as she racked her brain for a solution.

“I'm not sure about this,” she began, running a hand through her hair, “But I believe I read about garlic having particularly good antitoxins for poisonings such as this one.”

“Whatever you need, tell me… I'll bring it to you,” Minho pleaded.

“Okay. I'll need a few cloves of garlic, some activated charcoal, and a medicine trunk—preferably the one from the main infirmary.”

. ˚✧・* •

An excruciating ten minutes later, Minho returned, panting. He handed Yuna all the things and she immediately got to work, carefully propping you against the headboard. Your head lolled to the side, eyes struggling to stay open.

She added a spoonful of the black powder into a cup of water, thoroughly mixing it. When it all dissolved, she pressed the cup to your lips, gently tipping your head backward. “You have to drink this, Your Majesty.”

In your weakened state, you gulped down the dark liquid, gagging at the nasty texture. Once you finished, Yuna handed you a glass of plain water which you gratefully accepted. “This will make sure you get the full dose,” she explained.

“Now,” she chopped up the garlic into thin pieces, placing it in the mortar with some other herbs, “I'll prepare this paste for you to eat. It won't be tasty, but it should hopefully combat the toxins from the oleander.”

Once finished preparing created the foul-smelling paste, she fed it to you in spoonfuls. You groggily swallowed it down, clutching onto the sheets with newfound vigor. Who knew, maybe you'd even survive this ordeal…

You took the moment to survey the room, finally feeling conscious enough to gather what had exactly gone down. You saw Seungmin crouched in the corner of the room, head in his hands. Chan and Jisung were sitting by the table, both distressed.

Last but not least, Minho was standing, his back propped against the wall. His hair was disheveled, matted locks pressed to his forehead and a singular tear ran down his cheek, causing your heart to shatter.

It took you a few moments to register what he was wearing. The navy suit hugged his body and showed off his built physique, the golden fastenings only adding to the whole visage. It dawned upon you that he'd chosen to wear your nation's colors, just like you would've worn the scarlet dress.

“Minho,” you suddenly croaked, catching the attention of everyone in the room. The Prince's head snapped toward you, eyes watering. He immediately ran to your bed, kneeling beside you as he grabbed your hand in his, gently intertwining your fingers with his.

“How are you feeling?”

A loud cough tore from your throat, promptly providing him with an answer. “Oh, Y/N… everything will be okay, alright? I-I promise…”

Then he turned around, gaze hardening. “Captain,” he looked at Chan, hands clenching into fists. “I want you to go find General Lee and arrest him at once.”

Venom was dripping from his tone, and Chan immediately understood that this wasn't just a question. It was a command.

“Where should I put him, Your Majesty?”

“The dungeon,” he muttered darkly. “I want him locked up with all the criminals he had put behind bars himself.”

Chan saluted, running off to find the General.

Meanwhile, Yuna finished preparing the antidote, a sigh of relief escaping her parted lips. “I'm done, Your Majesty. Quickly, we don't have much time to spare.”

You promptly opened your mouth, allowing her to feed you spoonfuls of the potent mixture. Your gag reflex was activated as soon as the bitter flavor attacked your tastebuds, but knowing what would happen if you refused, you involuntarily swallowed down every last bit.

“Water, p-please,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling like you would throw up. Minho jumped to his feet, filling up the cup from the pitcher and bringing it to your lips. He benevolently tipped the cup, supporting the back of your head with his palm. As you greedily gulped down the liquid, he threaded his fingers between your locks, tenderly massaging your scalp.

“What should we do now?” he asked Yuna, placing the cup on the nightstand. The girl looked at him with wide eyes, nervously twirling a strand of hair between her finger.

“Now… now we wait. If I did everything correctly, the antidote should be contouring the poison. Her Majesty will have to rest for a few days, that's for sure—no exerting her mind or body—but after that, she should make a full recovery. But if I didn't…”

“No,” he cut her off. “Don't say that. I'm sure you did everything that you could and I trust you, alright?”

She smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

“You should go rest up. I'll stay here with Y/N and make sure everything is alright. I'll call for you if anything happens.”

. ˚✧・* •

The following days were some of the hardest moments in Minho's life.

However, the excruciating pain he went through while having to watch you writhe in discomfort didn't compare to the suffering you had to be going through.

Despite his exhaustion showing in many ways, namely the dark circles under his eyes and his clothes sticking to his sweaty body. All and all, he felt almost disgusting, but he refused to leave you side for more than a few minutes.

After a few days, it was obvious that you would make a recovery. Minho nearly weeped in joy when you suddenly sat up, looking him dead in the eye as you muttered, “You stink.”

He breathed out a short laugh, a light, husky sound that you thought was beautiful.

“How are you feeling?” he then asked, eyes watering as he took in your whole body, relief washing over him.

“I'm fine, just a bit numb,” you answered truthfully, lifting your hand above your head in an attempt to stretch your sore muscles. “Although I am craving some chicken pie…”

Minho chuckled, patting the top of your head with a gentle laugh. “On it!”

It was later that night that you realized how incredibly lucky you were as the two of you each enjoyed a few slices of chicken pie.

. ˚✧・* •

“Please, Minho,” you stubbornly jutted your lower lip, throwing your sock-clad feet in the air as you watched your fiancé button up his blouse. His expression remained stone-cold, but you could already see the cracks in his resolve.

“Why won't you let me come see him? If I'm going to be the Queen, I should at least be able to face my enemies, don't you think?” And in a much quieter tone, you added, “I'd at least want to know what made him hate me enough to try to poison me…”

“Y/N,” Minho sighed, rubbing his temples. “I really don't think it's a good idea for you to see him right now—you're supposed to be resting, remember?”

“I know,” you groaned, “but it's been over a week—I'm fine now, okay? Besides,” you gave a lopsided smirk, “If you don't want me to exert myself, you can always just carry me there…”

Minho blushed at your words, clumsily buttoning the last button up on his shirt. “I, uh, still… I really don't like the idea of you being in the vicinity of that bastard.”

With the way his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, a thought popped up in your head. “By any chance… you didn't,” the words dried in your mouth, “you didn't hurt him, did you?”

The Prince immediately understood what you meant by the word hurt. You were asking him if he had tortured, or perhaps even killed the young General who had dared to commit the highest form of treason. To be fair, Minho had all the prerogative to do as he pleased with him after he'd attempted a hand at the future Queen's life.

A slow, controlled breath left his lips. “No, I didn't. I had thought about it though, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't even bring myself to face him. The two of us grew up together for God's sake.”

You could hear the frustration in his tone as you gently rubbed his back in hopes of soothing his nerves. “But you know what angers me the most?”

Knowing that it was a rhetorical question, you didn't answer, allowing him to continue. “I hate the fact that I didn't see it coming. I noticed that he behaved a bit weird around you, but I chalked it up to him looking out for me, wanting to make sure I marry someone he deemed worthy…”

“Minho, please, don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control. It's no surprise that you didn't see it coming—nobody suspects the people closest to them, that's just how it is.”

“I know,” he released a shaky breath, “But I can't help but feel like I failed you.”

“Oh please,” your hand reached to cup his cheek, “Don't say that. Now let's go, I think there's a General waiting for us to visit.”

“Alright, but you have to promise me one thing, okay?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, suppressing the smirk that formed at the corners of your mouth. “Sure.”

“Stay behind me at all times, alright? The dungeon's a dangerous place and knowing that you'll be going there without being able to protect yourself makes my skin crawl.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, “I'll stay by your side.”

. ˚✧・* •

The stairs leading to the dungeon were dark and damp, the pungent smell of mold causing your nostrils to flare. Minho was walking in front of you, your hand clasped in his as he carefully guided you down the spiral staircase.

Once you arrived, your eyes flew from one side to the other, taking in the crumbling stone walls.

There were about a dozen or so cells in the dungeon, and only about half of them were occupied. On the far left, you spotted a mop of silver curls, akin to Felix's. You quietly pointed in that direction, whispering, “Is that him?”

“Yeah.”

Slowly but surely, Minho walked up to his old friend, an odd sense of fake confidence to his steps. You trailed behind him, fire in your eyes as you awaited the moment you'd come face to face with the man who plotted your near-murder.

The closer you came, the more your heart plummeted in your chest. The heels of your boots clanked against the cold stone, complimenting the pitter-patter of the water draining down the sewage system.

“General Lee,” Minho spat out venomously, hand reaching to push you behind his body. You nearly rolled your eyes at his protectiveness, but you found it endearing nonetheless.

Felix's head was slumped down, facing the ground as the two of you approached. More than two weeks had passed since his arrest, and the harsh conditions of the dungeon were beginning to take an evident toll on him.

“Felix,” you finacé called again after he didn't respond, worry beginning to show on his face. “Answer me.”

Slowly but surely, the General raised his head, not bothering to straighten his posture that was held down by the shackles holding his wrists above his head. His bloodshot eyes were oddly glassy, a shiver running down your spine once you made eye contact.

“Well well… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Minho growled, “don't be cheeky with me, Felix. Not after you've committed the highest form of treason.”

The man attempted to raise his hands up in defense, an apologetic smile appearing on his lips when he was stopped mid-way by the bounds on his wrists. “Then why has the royal couple decided to pay me a visit?”

“You should already know by now,” Minho clenched his fists, tearing his gaze from his once close friend, “that I want answers. I want to know what made you do the things you did, Felix?”

The frustration in his tone was evident, and you wished you could just take him from this place. Your earlier need to see Felix face to face diminished into dust.

“You know,” Felix suddenly spoke up, his grave tone echoing in the dimly-lit room, “I've always been jealous of what you had.”

After a short pause, he continued. “The money, the fame, the love… it felt like you had the entire world at your fingertips, while I had to wrestle through all the stages of life with nothing to my name… not even a home to return to.”

“Felix… I-I—”

“No, Your Majesty,” Felix cut him off pointedly. “This isn't just about poor orphaned Felix. No. This about who made me an orphan in the first place!”

To say that Minho was stunned would be a gross understatement. His eyes were filled with confusion as he peered down at the man he once considered his closest friend. The two of them grew up nearly side by side, and if it weren't for Minho’s royal duties kicking in prematurely due to his older brother's death, they likely would've been even closer.

“I-I don't understand… if you hated me so much, why did you pretend to be my friend all your life? Not to mention, why were you after Y/N in the first place? She didn't do anything!”

The tremor in his voice became clearer, something that you noticed when his hands began shaking. “I still don't get it, Felix… you tried to kill her for fucks sake! When she didn't do anything to deserve it…”

Suddenly, he looked straight at you, locking eyes with you as he snarled, something akin to anger and resentment bubbling up in his throat. “Maybe she didn't, but her worthless scummy people definitely did.”

Felix's eyes darkened with an emotion you weren't able to place, and if looks could kill, both you and Minho would be six feet under.

“You know,” he growled, hands jerking in the binds, “our father was a real piece of work.”

“Our? What the hell are you talking about, Felix,” Minho snapped in bewilderment. What was going on? Why was he feeling like he was about to hear something he didn't like?

“He thought he got rid of all of them,” his voice cracked midway, causing your heart to shatter. “B-But my mother managed to run away with me and hide near the northern border.”

Finally finding your voice, you whispered, “A-Are you trying to say that—”

Instead of answering your question, Felix's hands burst into flames, the fiery inferno licking away at the metal cuffs. A maniacal laugh tore from his throat, causing you to freeze in your spot.

The metal binds around his wrists began to melt, silver liquid dripping down on the floor. His eyes were darkened, and frankly, it was the most scared you'd felt in your life. Utterly terrified would fit better.

The General, after having regained footing, walked up to the metal bars, the only thing separating him from you and Minho. A lopsided smirk appeared on his face as he whispered, “didn't realize you had a younger brother, did you, Minho?”

The way he said his name… you could tell it stupified the Prince. His eyes were wide, hands trembling as he stood rooted to his spot, unable to tear his eyes from the sight in front of him. Hearing Felix address him like that sure did a number on him, especially hearing the venom dripping from his tone.

It was like he was talking to a completely different person.

His lips parted, and in a soft breath, he whispered, “Do you know what happened to us after that?”

A gentle shake of the head was enough of an indicator for him to continue. “The Azure soldiers raided the village and killed my mother. I was locked in the basement as she let out her last breath.”

And then, almost instantly, fire erupted in his eyes. He grinned uncontrollably, hand surging forward as a mass of fire, shaped into a sharp dagger cut through the air.

“NO!” you screamed, realizing what he was about to do. Your hand shot forward, grabbing onto your fiancé's tunic, and in a frenzy, you pulled back, both of you falling to the ground.

You winced under his weight, wheezing before you noticed the small burn mark on Minho's cheek. He was dumbfoundedly rubbing at the gash as if he was still processing what had just happened, blood seeping through his fingers.

By now, the guards must have had heard the hubbub as a dozen or so soldiers ran down, bursting through the door and making quick work of restraining the former General.

And what worried you the most was how easily he let them take hold of him. Not once did he attempt to fight back, even though you were positive that he could've obliterated them with his newly-revealed powers. And even without them, General Felix was undoubtedly one of the most feared swordsmen and fighters in the nation.

As two of the guards escorted you and Minho out of the dungeon, you couldn't help but turn around one last time, catching Felix's smug leer.

“This isn't over,” he mouthed with a grin, holding your gaze for a few more seconds before one of the guards rammed his head into the cobblestone.

. ˚✧・* •

The chirping outside the window caused you to stir in your sleep, sighing as you cuddled back into your fiancé's toned chest.

“Are you awake?” his raspy woke you up, a whine escaping your lips. “As a matter of fact, I wasn't…”

A throaty chuckle left his parted lips, a sound you found wholly attractive, but you'd never tell him that. Instead, you pressed yourself closer to him, enjoying the warmth he exuded. It was on days like these that you were grateful that Minho slept shirtless.

After the unpleasant incident with Felix in the dungeons, he insisted on taking an entire week off. It was something that the two of you desperately needed—some alone time to heal from the unsettling experience.

All and all, you were happy Minho had made that choice. The two of you got to spend loads of quality time together, indulging in each other's presence. The mornings were particularly nice, especially when Minho pampered you with kisses, his wolfish hands running all over your body.

“Did you drink your medicine yesterday?” he murmured in your ear.

“Yes, mom,” you rolled your eyes. He had been asking you the exact same question for the past week, making sure you drank the herbal mixture that would revert the toxins from the poisoned tea you had been unknowingly drinking.

A sudden smack echoed through the room.

“Minho,” you cried, rubbing your sore bottom. “That hurt!”

The Prince chuckled, a teasing grip on his lips. “Oops, my bad.”

Turning around, you stared him in the eye, pouting. “You just wanted an excuse to slap my butt, didn't you?”

He huffed in response, “Please, that was just a light tap.”

Despite your best efforts to hide the corners of your mouth lifted up into a smile, “Two can play this game, you know?”

Minho's eyes widened when you reached out your arm and smacked his bum. “Ouch! That's not fair, you hit me a lot harder!”

His whines were cut short as a sudden knock sounded through the room. The both of you stilled, holding in the bursts of laughter. Something like this was always bound to happen at the funniest moments.

“What is it?” Minho called, too lazy to get out of bed. His hand was gently stroking your cheek, a gesture that always made you melt into his touch.

“Your Majesty! The dressmakers will arrive shortly. Where should we house them?”

“Give them one of the larger rooms in the southern wing. You can tell them that Her Majesty will be ready at noon.”

You grasped Minho's hand in yours, entwining your fingers. “The dressmakers?”

“Yeah. I requested the most famous tailor to design your wedding dress. She only works with the highest quality fabrics and is known throughout the kingdom.”

“Minho,” you murmured. “You didn't have to go that far. If it came down to it, I'd marry you in a jute bag if I had to. ”

“Nonsense,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, heat rising to your face. “I only want the best for my angel.”

“Ever the romantic,” you snorted, pulling him closer. Your nose bumped into his collar bones, inhaling the scent of his musky cologne.

“Only for you, baby.”

After a while, Minho dragged you out of bed, claiming that the two of you needed to go on with your days. You enjoyed a hearty breakfast before you were forced to separate—you heading towards the dressmaker while Minho went to take care of some paperwork.

. ˚✧・* •

“Your Majesty,” the woman, Chaeryoung, greeted you with a curtsy, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. Even at first sight, you could tell that she had impeccable taste. Her gown looked like something straight out of a fairytale causing you to open your mouth in awe.

Clasping her hands together, she chirped, “Let's get you dressed in some of my finished pieces so we can get an idea of what suits you best, alright?”

Two hours and approximately twenty dresses later, you were finally done. The design you two came up with was still in the works, but you've established a few key elements.

Firstly, the dress would be made out of angora silk—the softest and most expensive type of silk there was. Heat rose to your cheeks when Chaeryoung told you, squashing your meek protests.

“I will not tolerate anything less for the Queen's wedding dress.”

Secondly, you decided on the silhouette; a basque, ballgown-like overskirt that flared at the waist with lace trimmings. It was a rather pompous design in your opinion, but Chaeryoung assured you that you would look fantastic. And in a sense, you would be fulfilling your childhood dream of wearing a princess-like gown at your own wedding so without much reluctance, you agreed.

Your hair would be pinned up into a twisted low bun with some scarlet peonies woven in—a simple updo that wouldn't take too much attention off your face. On top of that, you'd adorn a modest, sheer veil with jewels at the hem.

Stretching your arms above your head, you stepped into Minho's bedroom, plopping yourself on the bed. The sheets were infused with his smell, something you had come to love while falling asleep by his side.

. ˚✧・* •

“You know, I never actually brought anyone here,” Minho mused as the two of you walked through the secluded park hand in hand, his warm palm enveloping yours.

“How come?” you piped, looking at him intently, a bright sort of curiosity glimmering in your eyes. The palace gardens were vast, in fact, you figured they could've been bigger than the grounds of your palace back in the Azure land.

His eyes suddenly filled with sorrow, “My brother used to take me here all the time when we were little.”

“Oh,” the word left your lips in a partial breath, immediately feeling guilty for having asked in the first place. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no. Don't be,” Minho responded, “It's okay, don't worry. I'm just happy that I get to spend some time with you. I'm sure my brother would've liked you a lot…”

“You think so?”

His hands dropped to your waist, pulling you into his chest. “I know it.” A teasing smirk appeared on his face as he pinched your side, leaning down and connecting your lips in a heated kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but eventually, you melted into his embrace, hands sliding around his neck to tug at the strands of his hair.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped, pulling away in a breathless daze. “I-I… thank you. For everything.”

The sincerity in his eyes almost made your knees buckle, your hand reaching to caress his face. It wasn't usual for Minho to show vulnerability, and you were happy he felt comfortable enough with you to share such personal moments with.

You leaned towards him, pressing your lips to his in a much shorter sweet peck, smiling brightly. “He would've been so proud of you, Min.”

Minho looked puzzled for a second, before a look of understanding spread across his face. Warmth filled his orbs as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your jaw, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Then, he gently brushed the hair out of your face before he kneeled down on one knee. Taken aback, you lifted your brow, unsure of what he was doing. The light breeze tousled the locks in front of his eyes, the scene beginning to remind you of one straight from a romance novel.

“Y/N,” he began, gazing into your eyes with such intensity it made your head spin. “You know, I never would've expected to fall in love with you,” he spoke softly into the whistling wind, breaking your gaze for a second.

“Our first meeting was surrounded with unpleasant circumstances, but because of that, I feel like I can appreciate the bond we've built even more.”

You nodded wordlessly, silently agreeing with every word he said. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before he continued, “And I've come to realize how wonderful of a person you are. Never in the twenty-two years I've been alive have I met someone as kind and selfless as you, not to mention you're a real goddess,” he added with a wink.

“Minho—” you spluttered, feeling bashful under the waterfall of compliments he was issuing you. “I-I, uh, I mean…”

“It's okay,” he pressed his thumb to your lower lip, effectively silencing you. “Let me do all the talking, sweetheart.”

When you nodded timidly, he carried on, “And one afternoon, I realized that I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. I want to wake up by your side every morning and go to sleep next to you every night. I want us to rule the land together and start a family with you.”

His hand dug into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box. He opened it with ease, holding out the delicate ring with a small ruby stone in the middle.

“Y/N, I'm asking you not as the Prince, not as the future King, but as Minho… Lee Minho. Will you marry me?”

You brought your trembling hand to your mouth, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you whimpered, “Y-Yes. I'd l-love to…”

A relaxed smile appeared on his lips, previously tense shoulders relaxing as he slipped the wedding band on your ring finger. It fit like a glove. Bringing your hand to his mouth, he pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, holding in the joyful screams that chafed at his throat.

You placed your hand onto his cheek, pulling his head up so you could lock lips once again, the warm tears searing your flesh.

And just like that, the two of you enjoyed your last week together before the wedding preparations came in full throttle.

. ˚✧・* •

“Minho, please,” you burst into your now shared bedroom with pleading eyes, “Help me hide!”

“What did you do this time?” your fiancé raised a brow, an amused chuckle escaping his parted lips. He was sprawled across the bed, long legs nearly dangling off the edge of the mattress with a leather-bound book in his hand.

You hated to admit it, but Minho could pull off anything while looking sinfully attractive.

Shutting the door behind you gently, you took a deep breath to steady you heartbeat. After all, you had run all the way from the southern wing. “For your information, I didn't do anything. But they were gonna make me choose what color napkins I want for the reception. Do you hear that? Napkins—”

Minho had to stifle a laugh at the frustration in your tone, sitting up to pull you onto his lap. You fell into his hold with a slight yelp, heat rising to your cheeks at the close proximity.

“How 'bout I make it up to you, baby?”

The blood stilled in your veins at his flirtatious words, immediately feeling yourself curl into a ball at his playful actions. Minho noticed the change instantly, guilt washing over him.

“Hey, hey,” he cupped your cheek, tilting your head upwards until you had no choice but to look at straight at him. His chocolate orbs held nothing but fondness, which helped you relax into his touch. “There's no need to be shy, Princess. I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his chest and inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “I'm sorry, I know you'd never do anything like that,” your breath hitched in your throat. “I'm just a bit nervous about the wedding, that's all.”

“Why are you nervous? Are the preparations not going well?”

You shook your head softly, “No, that's not that. I'm just anxious about how the people will think of me as their new Queen…”

“We've been over this a million times,” Minho murmured against the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “And my initial opinion still stands—they will love you. You're a good person and sooner or later, they'll realize that you have their best intentions at heart.”

“I hope you're right,” you sighed. He responded with a smile, “Don't worry. I know I'm right…”

Then, he leaned down until his lips were ghosting above yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

Afraid that the words wouldn't leave your mouth, you nodded, fluttering your lashes as he sealed your lips with a heated kiss. You felt heat spread all across your body, as if the warmth from his lips was seeping into your every cell. His hands slowly lowered from your waist to your thighs, the pads of his thumbs gently running over the sensitive skin.

It sent electric jolts that went straight to your stomach, warmth pooling at your belly. You pressed yourself closer to him, mewling at the feeling of his nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

After what felt like eternity, Minho disconnected your lips with a groan, lips curling into a teasing grin.

“I think this has been a long day for you. Wanna cuddle before we go to sleep?”

“Yeah,” you yawned, exhaustion slowly taking over you. “I'd love that.”

. ˚✧・* •

The day had finally arrived.

After weeks upon weeks of meticulous and rigorous planning, you were finally about to step out and walk to the altar where your union would be officially sealed, the treaty officially coming into effect.

And despite the fact that you had been preparing for this moment nearly your entire life, your heart felit like it would jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating.

You would be marrying Minho today.

You would become the Queen.

And for some reason, you felt a tug at your chest. Fear and excitement were coursing through you, the stark contrast of emotions swirling inside of you like a tornado.

Your hand dropped to your chest, picking up the shimmering, crystal pendant that Minho gifted you a few days prior.

“Your Majesty,” Yuna's voice sounded through the wooden door, causing you to look up. “You'll be up in a few minutes.”

Taking a deep breath, you mustered all your energy to respond in a calm and collected way. “Of course… I'm coming.”

Stepping out of the dressing room, you readjusted your dress at the waist, smoothing down the nonexistent creases on your robe. The soft silk felt like heaven under your fingertips, and you grinned appreciatively at the delicate lace hems.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, Your Majesty,” Yuna giggled, unable to hold it in. Her hands immediately reached to readjust the red peonies woven into your hair, making sure that everything was in place.

It all went by in a blur; you were suddenly pushed down the aisle, a chorus of cheers and applause ringing through your ears. The velvet carpet crunched under your heels, and to your surprise, you noticed that the edges of the rug were lined with fresh peonies, not unlike the ones in your hair.

It seemed like Minho was really pushing this whole flower aesthetic, and if you were honesty, you were living for it.

When your eyes met, it felt like fireworks erupted in your chest. Minho had impeccable taste, that much you knew, but this was the first time you'd seen him dressed to the nines like this.

A crisp white suit adorned his body, the snug fit merely accentuating his broad shoulders. His russet hair was gelled to the back, revealing his forehead with only a few strands falling from the slick updo.

You nearly gasped when you saw the azure colored pocket square was neatly arranged in his breast pocket, the shade unmistakenly reminding you of your nation's true colors.

Everything went quiet, the screams and the hollers of the people dying out in favor of all the eyes slowly gravitating towards you. You could feel every single pair of orbs on you, a shiver running down your spine. As you walked down the aisle with the large, orchid bouquet in hand, your eyes locked once more. He gently took ahold of your hand, the two of you walking the last steps to the altar together.

“Princess Y/N of the Azure nation, do you take Prince Minho as your lawful husband that you will cherish in sickness and health and promise to stay faithful to for as long as the two of you shall live?”

Inhaling, you responded, loud and clear, “I do.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

Everyone cheered, throwing their hands in the air as Minho pressed a kiss to your lips. It was short and sweet, yet managed to convey so many emotions, like hope and promise for a better future.

Your finger was now adorned with two rings; the one he proposed with and the simple wedding band that matched his.

Never in your entire life had you felt such a rush of endorphins. Blood was coursing through your veins, the excitement, and the atmosphere filling you with a sense of warmth.

Minho suddenly grabbed your hand, raising it above your head with a smirk. “Do you wanna show them?”

You nodded almost instantly, knowing what he wanted to do. Simultaneously, frozen icicles shot from your hand, bursting through the air as Minho did the same, except it was fire that was bursting from his fingertips.

The crowd started cheering at the showy display of power as loud chants tore from their throats.

“Long live the Queen!”

. ˚✧・* •

Jisung was watching you from the swarm of people, craning his neck to watch you from his seat in the fourth row. Next to him, Chan glanced down at him, clearly worried for his friend as he mumbled, “Are you sure you're okay?”

He nodded in response, refusing to tear his eyes from the scene in front of him. Minho had just kissed you in front of the entire kingdom. He knew he should've been happy for you, especially after seeing that genuine smile on your lips along with the glimmer in your eye.

But Jisung couldn't help himself from feeling a pang of jealousy in his heart as he watched you and Minho's hands connect. Despite knowing that you were now married to another man, he couldn't just let go of his feelings for you.

And as he watched the two of you smile at each other from under your lashes, gazing into each other's eyes like lovestruck fools, Jisung's heart shriveled up in his chest like a decaying flower on a summer evening, blown away by the breeze till nothing was left but dust.

. ˚✧・* •

epilogue:

A maniacal laugh tore from his throat as he perked his ears. He could hear the wedding bells all the way down here.

The freezing temperature no longer affected him, skin having grown numb to it a long time ago, and the damp smell seeped through every thread of his tunic, irreversibly marking it with its unbearable stench.

His eyes glimmered under the moonlight, sharp and cunning as always. He was a calculative man, for sure, and right now, he was weighing out his odds.

Perhaps escaping wouldn't be as hard as he had initially thought…

a/n: my longest piece to date :) I hope you enjoyed and I applaud you for coming so far! please please let me know your thoughts :< it's what keeps me going on here :> also, shout out to the people that can recognise who was based off of who (as in which character from subZero)...

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moonlit-han · 1 year

Text

the littlest spoon

genre/au: visual artist!chan, friends to lovers au, college au, a smidgeon of angst pairing: bang chan x fem reader word count: 1.5k warnings: mentions of lack of self confidence request: yes a/n: this is full of all the things chan should hear. at least from me, that is. enjoy! (and remember: reblog the fics you read to make a writer's day!)

↠ masterlist | comments & feedback appreciated! ↞

↠↞

The smell of the oil paints Chan used was trying to overwhelm your senses, but, thankfully, not quite managing it. The breeze pulled in through one window in your apartment’s living room ushered the smell out the opposite window, effectively ensuring neither of you passed out from the fumes. The only problem was that the sun had set hours ago and the darkness had brought with it a chill that was slowly seeping into your bones.

Seeking warmth, you shuffled over to where Chan sat in front of his easel, worrying at his bottom lip in time with the minute strokes of his brush as he worked on a piece you could’ve sworn was finished an hour ago. Taking care not to jostle Chan’s arm or shoulder, you leaned into his back.

“How’s it going?” You asked.

“I just have this one bit to finish. I can’t get this shadow right and it’s driving me nuts.” Chan set down his brush. Casual touches and affection weren’t unusual for the two of you, not after having known each other for five years and living together for two, and so Chan leaned into your touch as you carded your fingers through his hair. “I have to do better,” he added, just quietly enough that he must have thought you wouldn’t hear.

Your hand stopped its repetitive motions and you turned to him, frowning. You were, regrettably, used to hearing Chan berate himself over the smallest things. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t seem to convince him that whatever he was doing was great, that however he looked was wonderful, or whatever thing he was displeased about was actually perfectly fine.

“Chan,” you said, “you’ve already been working on that painting for two weeks. An hour worrying over one shadow isn’t going to do much more, right?” You didn’t mean it to sound as dismissive as it did, so added, “What I mean is it’s already great.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah but—”

“No. Chan, really,” you insisted, emphatically placing both hands flat atop his head. “Maybe just leave it ’til tomorrow?” Chan looked like he was going to argue, but you forestalled him. “Please? Just wait and I’m sure it’ll be better to look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Chan groaned, stretching.

“Good.”

Twenty minutes later, Chan was snuggled under the covers in his bed, trying to get his mind to stop racing.

Thirty minutes later, Chan got up and knocked on your door.

“Yeah? Chan, you okay?” You called, setting the book you had been reading on the bedside table.

“Can I come in?” Chan’s voice was muffled by the door.

“Of course.”

Chan looked sheepish as he entered your bedroom. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in there countless times... Just not in the middle of the night and—

“Really?” You demanded, ignoring the way your pulse pounded at the sight of him. “You couldn’t have put on a shirt?”

“Be glad I put on boxers,” Chan replied, smirking.

“Ugh, you’re a menace.” You rolled your eyes, sitting upright and patting the bed beside you. Sure, Chan might be a menace—only to your heart and sanity, looking all gorgeous and toned in your bedroom—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sit on your bed when he clearly had something on his mind.

Chan joined you on the bed, pulling the throw blanket you kept at the foot of your bed up around himself like a cape. It was unreasonably endearing.

“So, what’s up?” You prompted after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Well, comfortable save for Chan’s fidgeting. He really was a champion fidgeter.

“Just thinking too much,” Chan replied. His head was bowed, so you couldn’t see his expression well but his tone said enough. Sometimes he got like this—wrapped up in his head and perfectionism, convinced that he wasn’t good enough for anything or anyone.

“Wanna tell me about?” You wanted to reach for your friend, but resisted. That would be far too obvious.

“I was thinking about the painting and then all the other stuff I haven’t gotten right. Like that paper I wrote last semester for Professor Choi. I know I could’ve done so much better.”

“Chan, you got a 96% on that paper. Didn’t you tell me that was the highest grade in the class?” Sometimes Chan was unbelievably hard on himself, to the point that you frequently had the urge to shake his silly frame and tell him he was actually wonderful, amazing, talented, beautiful, and definitely a catch. Although, maybe not that last bit.

“Yeah, but—”

“Nope, not listening,” you said playfully. You knew he’d get your tone and know you still cared.

“Yeah, but I was thinking about all that and then started thinking about us.”

That brought you up short.

“Like,” Chan continued, his words tumbling over each other, “we’ve lived together for two years now and we’re good friends and all. And you always make sure I’m okay and I really, really appreciate that. And you’re so sweet and smart as hell and really pretty. Like, really pretty. And… And I’m just some guy and I know I’m not super handsome or anything and wouldn’t deserve you at all but—” Chan blushed.

You stared at him, dumbfounded. A minute ago, you had thought you had a good handle on the conversation, but now it had headed in a completely unexpected direction.

Chan swallowed, then raised his head, meeting your eyes through what you knew was quite an effort of will. “I, um, really like you. A lot. I’m, like, probably in love with you, honestly. But yeah. I just needed to get that off my chest.” He sighed shakily. “I’ll just go back to my room now. You can forget I said all that, if you want. It’s totally fine.”

And now you did reach for Chan, catching hold of his hand as he began to turn away. “No, stay.” You asked. Pleaded. “Stay?”

Chan paused and you could feel him quivering slightly as you laced your fingers through his.

“Chan,” you said gently and squeezed his hand. “Stay with me, baby. I promise I’m in love with you, too. I guess I didn’t think… Well, I’m not sure why I hadn’t said it, but I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You mean it? You’re not joking?” Chan sounded like he half expected you to say, Yes, I’m joking. I actually hate you. Damn it, couldn’t this man ever just be confident in himself? You supposed that was one of your roles as… whatever you were. You could give Chan reassurance and hope, so desperately hope, that his confidence would grow.

“Yes, Channie, I mean it,” you said. “You are handsome. You are talented. You are smart and kind and silly and beautiful and everything else. You’re wonderful, baby. Okay?” And with that, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. Just a light brush of your lips, but you knew it would be sending excited shivers all throughout your friend’s—boyfriend’s?—body.

Before you knew it, Chan had dropped his blanket cape and was pulling you into his lap and clinging to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. You found yourself stroking his back with long, languid movements that seemed to make him melt against you even more thoroughly. His back was so smooth, the bare skin soft over the muscle. You couldn’t help but marvel.

After a few deep breaths, Chan made an indistinct noise. “Y/N,” he whispered, “you have no idea how glad I am. I was so worried you would just… I don’t know… disappear once I told you how I felt.”

“You’ve got me, baby,” you whispered, kissing Chan’s temple. “You have for a long time and will for even longer.”

“Good.”

You felt lips press against your shoulder, and hurried to say, “I meant it when I said stay, you know. Do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?”

Chan giggled, face still buried against your neck. “I know I should be the big spoon—”

“No talking like that,” you said. “I’ll cuddle you like you’re the tiniest spoon ever. How about that?”

“Yeah, that sounds really good,” Chan said, a little breathlessly.

With some shifting around and promises from Chan that his pants would be staying on that night—no guarantees were made for other nights, you noted—the two of you were soon curled up together in the middle of your bed. The sheets somehow felt softer than usual, the coverlet fluffier and warmer. Or, it might simply have been Chan’s presence making everything just that much softer.

“Goodnight, baby,” you said into the darkness once the two of you had found just the right way in which to tangle your limbs.

Chan hummed. “Goodnight, moonlight of my life.”

You burst out laughing, hugging Chan tightly and swatting at the hand he had draped over yours. “You’re the cheesiest man in the world, you know that?”

“You still love me, though,” he said smugly, nestling more closely against you.

“Yeah, yeah. I do,” you agreed. “I do.”

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mintchanniemint · 1 year

Text

≫ A stolen frappuccino, a stolen kiss.

pairing: Lee Minho x (fem) reader wordcount: ~3.3k -fluff, it gets a bit chaotic lmaoo

It’s a lazy afternoon, you luckily got a day off and it was quite surprising that it wasn’t raining, since the weather has been quite cold and cloudy for the past few days. You were cleaning around your apartment, your phone on the kitchen counter as you left a random playlist filling the place, becoming the background music to your chores. You were quite absorbed, holding the broom as if it was your mic, when suddenly the hook of the song got interrupted by a loud ring and buzz– someone’s calling you. You snort, walking closer to the counter, peeping at the screen of your phone. Minho is calling. You let it ring a few more seconds, before he would decide to end the call, and pick up, clicking quickly on the speaker button.

-Hello?–

-Why does it always take you so long to pick up!

-Yeah, it’s really a great day, isn’t it? What do you want, I have a lot of stuff to do–

-Oh, c’mon. We both have a day off, let’s go somewhere! It’s so sunny outside, let’s go to that one cafe close to the park.

-But Minho–

-I’ll come pick you up in… fifteen minutes? I don’t care what you wear, you look like you’re in your pajamas no matter what anyway.

You gasp at his comment, making him giggle in response. You agree to the meeting, quickly ending the call and sighing.

-What a guy…- you mumble to yourself as you finish sweeping the floor before heading to your room and changing into a pretty cozy outfit. No matter what you’d wear, you knew Minho would have shot a random sarcastic comment just to irritate you, before complimenting you properly.

Since you were quite used, at this point, to his antics, you mastered the ability to get ready in no time. You just grab your bag when suddenly, an insufferable knocking starts at your door.

-Just a second, Minho! I’m ready, stop it— You whine loudly, as you quickly approach the door and open it, welcoming him: his soft, purple dyed hair is a bit messy but looks cute anyway. You notice he started wearing more dangling earrings after you once said that they looked quite good on an actor you saw on TV. His T-shirt was hidden behind a warm, burgundy hoodie and he looked even cozier than you did–

-As I said, you look like you just woke up.

-Thank you, Minho, you’re always filling me with compliments. He grins and nods, satisfied at your reaction, and follows you as you walk outside, closing the door of your place behind his back.

The drive wasn’t too long, the two of you were singing along to the songs playing on the radio, sometimes interrupting the singing to curse at other drivers, sometimes making up silly radio ads whenever one was playing.

You arrive at the cafe, the usual one, the one where you either spent desperate evenings preparing for exams in university, or where failed dates happened– you had to admit, though, that going there with Minho started to make you associate happier moments with it. You sit at the usual table, next to the glass window, having a pretty view of the park right in front of the cafe. You order your usual, you were in the mood for some cookie frappuccino, and this time Minho copied your choice, too. You look at him, raising an eyebrow.

-The first order that arrives is mine.

-Minho, they most likely will arrive at the same time.

-Same thing, same thing.

You shake your head, not able to stop a smile from appearing on your lips, and you look away, your eyes focusing on the pink trees that are adorning the nearby park, not able to notice how piercing Minho’s eyes are, looking at every single feature of your face. Your orders arrive, of course he had to pretend that both drinks were for him, then make you choose which one you wanted and, once you picked a random one out of the two (they are, again, the same exact order) he acted all dramatic, as if you stole his order.

-You’re so silly, sometimes.

-Mh, I guess that’s my charm.- he winks at you as he takes a sip from his drink.

-Is it, though?- you fire back, as you start tasting your drink as well.

You spent nearly an hour, if not more, in that cafe. You chatted about your job, his job, and how lucky it was for the two of you to have a day off on the same day. You had to admit you were quite happy to see him again, although you talk nearly every single day, it feels like the last time you saw each other was barely a day ago.

-Okay, I have an announcement- he interrupts your train of thoughts, sighing loudly and playing with the straw in his drink. You look at him, already trying to predict what he would say.

-I am really, tremendously, bored. We have to go somewhere else before I order another five of these drinks.-

Of course, of course he’s bored.

-Minho, you were the one that decided to come here.

-Yup, I sure was! And I’m the one that decides that it’s now time to go!

-Go where, though? Are we going home already?

-Aw, “already”? Darling, just say you love my company so much! I won’t get offended by that!- he giggles, dramatically resting his hand on his cheek, as he looks away, pretending to be shy.

-Pft, stop it. Let’s go, then.- you fight the urge to throw your bag at him before you stand up and leave the cafe with him.

-Oh, those trees are so pretty, give me a second– I need to take a picture!- he gets his phone and quickly snaps a few shots of the park. You look at him, smiling, and can’t help but try to ruin his pics by photobombing, either by throwing peace signs or jumping right in front of him.

-Stop, you’re ruining it!- he whines, frowning and looking at you, shaking his head in fake disappointment. You stick out your tongue at him and shrug before you pull on his arm.

-Let’s go somewhere else, though… You made me leave so quickly I don’t wanna go back and do chores.

-See, just say I saved you earlier!- you hit his arm lightly, and look around while walking with him right next to you.

-Oh, wait. Let’s go there, then?- he points at a store on the other side of the street.

Arcade Games Station

-Why not! Let’s go, Minho, let’s go!- your eyes sparkle at the thought of playing some of your favourite games, though when you enter you’re welcomed by new arcade cabinets you’ve never seen before.

-Why did your energy fade so quickly, what– he comments as he stands right next to you, checking all the various games in the room.

-You like rhythm games, right? Let’s go try that one! It looks like it could give me an epileptic fit with all those colours so I guess that’s one of those games you like.-

You elbow him in the arm because of his comment. Sure, you did like arcade games and you admit you used to neglect your studies by spending an inhuman amount of time at the local arcade games station playing rhythm games, yet you didn’t want your legacy to be that.

You have to be honest, though, and admit that the game he pointed out did, infact, look like something you’d play. You’ve never seen it before, but it looked really cute: you could choose the cute anime idol to be in your team and even see the whole group dancing throughout the whole song! How cute is th–

-Can you stop staring at it? I’m gonna get you a coin, I got it.- Minho taps on your shoulder, destroying once again your wall of thoughts that slowly built in your mind. You shake your head, thank him and walk in front of the arcade cabinet. You’re not familiar with the system, though, the buttons are all around the screen so, the wisest choice was to surely start with a song in Easy Mode.

Minho quickly walks close to you, his eyes examining the colourful, cutesy screen right in front of him nearly stunning him. You didn’t mind him too much, you got the coin and inserted it, being now able to play. You looked at every idol and chose one with purple hair, realising that she had a way-too-cute way of talking, ending all of her sentences with a meow-like sound.

-This is hurting me.-

-Minho, which song should I choose? They all sound so good–

-Let me do this.- he pushes you aside, his hand now on where yours was just a few seconds ago. He plays just two seconds of each song, mumbling random comments until he accidentally changes the difficulty of the songs.

-No, hey Minho, I don’t know this game so go back to Easy Mode!

-Hey, hey. Take it easy, darling, I’m just looking!

You start bickering with each other: Minho does not move from his spot, he actually starts checking the higher difficulties sections, going through all the songs, without even letting the previews play properly. You sigh desperately, and accidentally elbow his arm.

“Okay, let’s go meow!~”

Minho and you look at each other, horror gradually filling your faces. None of you dare to talk, you just– look at each other, the cutesy energetic beat playing in the background as Minho’s eyes slowly fill with desperation.

-Minho what… what did you choose– you catch a glimpse of the screen before it fades to black, the words “Expert mode!♡” in bright orange are burning your eyes. The screen is now on loading mode, those few seconds were long enough to let despair spread between you and Minho.

-This is your fault!- he complains, laughing a bit too nervously.

-What do you mean my fault! If it wasn’t for you checking the Expert Mode, I would have finished four songs already!

-You elbowed me, though!

-Not on purpose!

“Are you ready, meow?♡”

-Do I look like I’m ready?!- you yell at the screen, obviously going through it.

-Okay, okay calm down. Uhm… you’re the expert here, how do you play?- he tries to click some of those big white buttons but nothing happens, only a faint tambourine sound playing at each press.

-I… I have no idea!

-What?!

“Everyone, let’s go, meow! Five… Four…♡”

The two of you have always been quite tight-fisted. Although one coin wasn’t that expensive, it was still money and it couldn’t go to waste.

“Three…♡”

-Minho, you play those buttons, I play these–

“Two…!♡”

-I could leave you do everything by yourself, though, since you were the one that kicked me so violently and–

-Oh no, no. You’re already changing the narrative!

-It’s your fault, though!

-Whatever, whatever! The song won’t take too long so just… focus on those buttons!

“One…!♡”

-I want something in return to this, since I’m also the one who paid!

-Sure, whatever you want! Why do you have to be so annoying at times like this just shut up–

“Here we go meow!♡”

-Okay then, I want a kiss.

You didn’t have enough time to process his words because the song started playing and you had to do your bestest best to clear the level. It probably lasted less than two minutes, but it felt like that game sucked nearly four years of your life.

-Oh well, we did it.- Minho stretches his arms, checking the bright screen in front of him. You are at an arcade games station, so why is it feeling like you just worked out for a whole forty minutes?!

-At least it wasn’t an instant game over, that’s good.

-Let’s see who other weirdo decided to try this song.

-No need to check the rank list, I doubt we’re in anyway… I couldn’t keep a combo to save my life! All those years of rhythm games… for what?- you sigh, dramatically, while Minho was furiously tapping on the menu buttons.

-Just let me add a name, we’re 18th in the rank, but look! We beat whoever this “Dwaekki” dude is. Pft, by one point! Bet the guy is gonna be so mad at this, heh.

-How the hell can you get competitive with someone you don’t even know…

-Yeah, yeah. Next game, you pay! Give me some money, we need more coins! More coins!

-Sure, sure, here. I guess this will be enough.- You give him your coin purse and look at him walking to the exchange machine. His eyes move from the screen in front of him to you for a split second: he just smirks, raises his eyebrows and looks back at the machine, leaving you blushing a bit and looking away out of embarrassment. Dork. He comes back and drags you to one of the car racing games cabinet.

-You’re gonna eat my dust this time.

-Says the one who doesn’t even have a license–

-Shut it! You know I have it.

-Oh, right, my bad: the one who has a license but always makes me drive her around.

-Gosh you’re so annoying.- he laughs and hands you a coin, wishing you good luck before the two of you start choosing characters and cars and get ready for the race. Silence falls between the two of you, so focused on your game, the synthwave music filling your ears as you skillfully drive past the other players. You notice you overtook Minho and you smile, proud of that little achievement. The lapses were done quickly, and, as you predicted, you came in first.

-Woohoo, I won! Eat my dust, eat my dust, eat my dust!

-Yeah, it was just luck, don’t worry, I’ll get my revenge soon!

-I have to claim my reward first, though!

-Wait, when did we start doing this?

-You started, silly. I want to take some photos at the purikura photo booth later!- you point at the photobooth in the corner, a bit far from where you are, and then point at Minho. He looks at it and sighs.

-But isn’t it expensive? That’s like… eleven coins…

-So what? If we gotta spend the whole day here, we have to take at least some cute pics! I don’t care, we’re doing it later!- you smile at him and drag him around, trying some more games together and challenging each other.

You had so much fun you didn’t even realise it was nearly evening. You’re starting to feel a bit cold, the light spring breeze is now quite freezing. Minho, noticing how you were shivering like a leaf, leaves his jacket on your shoulder, covering your eyes with the hoodie. You accept it and wear it, fixing your hair with your fingers.

-Okay, you might be annoying as hell, but I had a lot of fun. Thanks, Minho.

-Mh mh… say it better!- he shakes his head, his hand now right in front of you, mimicking some sort of mouth. He tries not to laugh, suggesting he is most likely going to do something stupid. He starts opening and closing his hand, clears his throat a few times before starting to talk in a really high-pitched voice.

-Thank you so much, Minho, for making me leave my own hideout during such a pretty and sunny day, and for being absolutely amazing, fun, entertaining and– You blow a raspberry at him in response, interrupting him. A giggle leaves your mouth as you drag him closer to the photobooth, your pinkie locking with his. You insert the coins, hearing Minho sighing dramatically, and enter the booth: as expected, there’s not enough space so you find yourself sitting on his lap. You look at the instructions on the screen, skipping everything as you’re quite familiar with it, and decide to go for six photos in total. The robotic voice starts the countdown for the first picture.

-Okay, smile!!- you look at the camera, excited, and close your eyes as a wide smile paints your lips. Minho takes the chance and decides to sign bunny ears right behind your head.

-Oh, now the second one!- he giggles and, hurried by the countdown, pokes your cheek. You laugh and poke his, too.

-Okay, another one!

-Hey, Minho.- you smile, your hand now caressing his cheek, inviting him to get his face closer to yours. You did catch him a bit off guard, but he didn't want to make it that obvious. His soft lips are curved in a light, gentle smile, his eyes are half closed, as if he’s anticipating that moment. He did ask for a kiss earlier, so you assumed the best moment to give him that reward would be now.

The countdown for the third shot starts, and at the last second, you pull him closer, letting your lips meet in a soft, gentle kiss. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer and warmer, Minho’s hand now gently stroking your cheek, the fourth countdown starting for another photo.

-Silly.- he mumbles, a smirk not able to leave his lips, his cheeks probably as red as yours. You can’t even process such a pretty image you had right in front of you, the fourth photo was already taken.

-Gosh, I’m gonna look absolutely ugly in that one!- you whine, and try to pose cutely for the fifth one. Minho laughs, now jokingly keeping you in a headlock and ruffling your hair.

-Minho!- you scold him and laugh at the same time, before you could say anything else, his warm lips were gently pressing on your cheek. Click. Last photo taken.

You leave the booth, now checking the screen in order to edit the photos you just took. They were a complete mess, but it was fun. You two took the tablet pens to doodle on the pics: you started by adding little evil horns on Minho on the first pic, while he scribbled a “stupid!!” followed by an arrow, pointing at you. You moved to the fourth one: you had your eyes closed, Minho a really stupid smirk on his face. It was right after you kissed him, you could feel your heart beating so fast as you look at it again, and shyly add some cute blushing lines on both of your faces. You finish with the doodling and you each get a copy of the photos taken. You leave, the fresh breeze gently caressing your warm face, your hands now in the pockets of Minho’s jacket you're still wearing.

-The day flew by.

-It sure did, Minho.

-And–

-Do not start with the bragging!- you jokingly kick his leg.

-Oh, no, she’s now anticipating my moves! This is dangerous.

-Shut up, silly.-

-My bad, my bad. Wanna go grab a bite somewhere?

-Or maybe we can order something and eat at my place?

-Oh, whatever the lady wants!- he winks at you, smiling.

-Pft, okay, okay. The lady asks for your company for dinner, then.

-Oh, that’d be an honour, reall–

-And for a drive!

-Look, here we go again, you taking advantage of me, as always!- he laughs, trying to keep a dramatic act, following you as you walk back to his car.

-Shut up and drive me home!- you laugh, holding his hand as you walk across the street.

Yep, you did spend a great day with him. And you were so grateful that you could share such little moments with him. Your fingers gently intertwine with his, and he leaves a gentle kiss on your forehead before he gets in the car.

-Make sure to choose what to order already! Or we’re gonna starve for hours before you make up your mind.- he jokingly scolds you, as he turns on the engine.

-Oh, stop it!

#stray kids imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #stayhavennet #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids #lee know #skz

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straykits · 2 years

Text

[ voicemail / hwang hyunjin ]

a (incomplete) collection of voicemails on a phone that hasn't been charged for over a year. // if i could have this entire thing in italics i would but i won't. anyways, something a bit different imo. idk how i feel about it tho yikes

warnings: implied reader death; please do not read if that will potentially put you in a bad mindset. ; alcohol

wc: 1.3k

[ 11:23am ]

"hey, y/n. it's me. i know you probably won't hear these-"

an exhaled breath of laughter.

"'probably'? i know you won't. you never used to check your voicemails, anyway, but- but now you really never will."

silence, and then muffled cursing.

"i knew this was a stupid idea."

beep.

—

[ 07:56pm ]

silence.

"...i'm going to pretend like you'll hear this and reply."

a deep breath.

"hey, how are you? i've miss- i've missed you. we should catch up-"

inhale, exhale.

"i stopped by felix's yesterday. he's even better at baking now than he was the last time i saw him - and i know i see him a lot, but it's like he gets better every day. he made these really nice cookies. crunchy on the outside, but they're... all soft in the middle. you would have loved them. he gave me a while box to bring home - a bit too much for one person, i think, but you know how he is. always giving things to others. remember how we used to joke that he's almost like a grandmother in that way? or an aunty? the one that keeps on feeding the kids? god, that joke started years ago. when we first met, i think. and he's still like that. i guess some people don't change."

a soft laugh.

"i wonder, sometimes, if i've changed. i mean, i know i probably have, but i wonder how noticeable it is. how much have i changed, since i met you? since we started dating? how much have i changed since you- ... since it happened?"

silence.

beep.

—

[ 03:41pm ]

"i came home and there was a parcel at the door. it has your name on it, but i don't know what it is, so i thought i would... do a live unboxing, i guess."

the sound of plastic, and then grunting and tearing.

"what the hell, why was that bag so tough to open? if i kept my shoes in there, maybe kkami wouldn't bite them... anyways, the parcel inside is wrapped in bubble wrap, but it looks blue. the object, not the bubble wrap. wait, let me get scissors- oh, never mind."

the sound of tape being torn off.

"you know, i used to think you were so annoying with bubblewrap everytime we got something. you'd keep it and say it was so you could use it if you needed to wrap something safely, but then i'd find you popping it while you studied."

a laugh.

"anyways, i'm unwrapping the bubblewrap, and- oh."

a pause, and then a gulp. the sound of a light metal dragging across the floor. a sigh.

"it's a collar for kkami. its really cute, y/n. you chose a good one. i'm sure kkami'll love it."

beep.

—

[ 03:57pm ; same day ]

"i just. i think it's a little cruel that orders are still sent and delivered to people who have already passed away. isn't that a little... messed up? it's like-"

his voice breaks.

"it's like the world is reminding me that you were alive, and it's not that i want to forget you and move on - i don't think i ever could, y/n. you were so good and you were just- just this unbelievably bright light in my life, and for the world to keep reminding me that you were here but you won't ever be here again is so fucking cruel."

beep.

—

[ 01:23am ]

"y/n, angel."

a pause, rustling of the sheets. his voice is whispered.

"i miss calling you that. i miss saying your name. seeing if you're home. asking where you're going, why you're leaving the bed when the sun isn't up. i miss sleeping next to you. i miss your stupid legs kicking me. i even miss having to pull the blanket back from you - can you believe that?"

a deep exhale.

"i haven't been able to sleep. i keep thinking about the last time i saw you, but- but i can't even remember what day that was. i can't even remember if i told you i loved you that day. i hope i did."

a shakey inhale.

"i have work tomorrow. i'll call you again soon. i love you."

a sniffle.

beep.

—

[ 10:19pm ]

"y/n? hi. hello. it's hyunjin!"

his voice is slightly slurred. he sniffles.

"y'know what today is? of course you do - it's your birthday! happy birthday! I got your favourite cake from that bakery you liked, today. and a candle. and i blew them out for you, because, y'know, you can't. and then felix came over for chicken, and we had a few drinks. he went to get some snacks, so he's not here right now. it's just us."

there's a few gulps, and the sound of something being placed back on the table.

"yesterday, i thought i would be able to cope with today. i'd celebrate your birthday with the cake, and then go to sleep, but..."

a sad, tired sigh.

"i started remembering again. remembering you. how we used to have late night snakes and watch movies. how we were in our own little world, at night. just you and me. you and me. us. i miss us. i miss you. i still can't believe that you- it was just a normal day, and then suddenly- why, y/n? why you? why did- why won't anyone help me understand why this is so hard?!"

deep breaths can be heard, but they sound forced.

"you know, it's so stupid to talk to a phone! i'm- i'm talking to a phone every second day, and its so stupid and i know you would want me to move on, but i can't-"

loud banging in the background can be heard, and a voice calling out hyunjin's name.

"ah, felix!"

"hyunjin, what the hell man? how much did you-"

"be quiet! I'm talking to y/n-"

"you're-"

the voice is in disbelief.

"give me that-"

"fuck off, i'm fine-"

"fine my ass!"

the sound of clattering and yelling; hyunjin seems to be in distress, arguing against new voice. the sound of footsteps approach, and then-

beep.

—

[ 08:21pm ]

"...i haven't done this in so long, it feels so weird now."

a moment of silence. traffic can be faintly heard in the distant.

"hey, y/n. it's me again. sorry i haven't called in... in months. i think it's been almost a whole year since i last called. you might be wondering if i've moved on, yet, but i don't think i can answer that question. not now, anyways. but that's why i'm calling- or, leaving this message.

"i moved out of our apartment. i got a new apartment, and it's only twenty minutes away, but it feels... different. not that i'm trying to forget you, but it feels like it can be a new start, you know? the sunset is really nice, here. it's a small apartment, so most of the main area is orange when the sun sets. it's really nice. there's also a spare bedroom, but i'm using it as a studio. it's got a window, so it'll help circulate the fumes out.

"um.. what else? oh, right. i've also been seeing a therapist. i think it's helped a lot. of course, i still have days where i just- where i just feel like i can't do this, and i just miss you so much that it hurts... but there are good days. lots of them."

hyunjin pauses, as if to let the thought settle.

"i don't know when i'll call again. i don't know if i'll call again. a lot has happened. i'll tell you all of it, bit by bit, over time. i just... wanted you to know that i'm doing better. that i still miss you, and that i love you, always, okay?"

there's a silence, bittersweetness alleviated by a sigh.

"okay. that's all. i'll visit you soon. i love you, y/n."

beep.

#ficscafe #stayhavennet #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin drabble #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids drabble #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #i know theres a lot of silences okay #i also feel like this had more potential but i once again just wanna get the idea out and then sleep so </3

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hanibalistic · 1 year

Text

RIBS | HWANG HYUNJIN. HAN JISUNG. LEE FELIX. KIM SEUNGMIN.

genre | fluff, angst, romance undertone, friendship au

synopsis | you’re the only friend i need.

word count | 10.4k +

warning | mentions of depression/depressive episodes / physics is not realistic here.

note | i could have finished this better but i’m no longer sad.

Felix was the only person who could drag you out of bed.

Hyunjin was swinging the car key around his index finger when he saw aggressive slaps of footsteps echoing from far away—a pair of sandals and a pair of sneakers. The window rolled down behind him, causing him to jump from where he was leaning. Seungmin clicked his tongue when he caught sight of the disbelieving glare Hyunjin threw for his carelessness, not because he thought Hyunjin was being dramatic but because he had rolled down the window on purpose.

“Good grieve, they can run louder,” Seungmin muttered sarcastically as he peeked over the window in search of two approaching persons.

Jisung chuckled from the car top, which Hyunjin had repeatedly nagged him to get off because the car was taken without permission from Hyunjin’s mother. He remained seated on it, though, cross-legged with his metal rings laid out after the boredom ensued from Felix taking longer than expected to get you out of your bed. He almost thought he would have to go home empty-handed.

“I’m just surprised they got out of bed at all,” Hyunjin said as he casually threw the car key straight upward. He caught it without looking, his fingers gripping the key, as he watched you and Felix emerge from the parking lot entrance in an unnecessary rush.

When you and Felix came to an abrupt stop before the car, the first thing both of you did was pant and catch your breaths. Cold air knocked the chills out of your lungs, and as you stared at your shivering shadow on the ground, you wondered why you let Felix convince you to go out this late at night in the first place.

He was the only person who could have gotten you out of bed during a depressive episode, and everybody knew that. Despite not being the closest to you in the friend group, if one could argue that there are even smaller cliques within a group of friends, he was somehow the only person who could motivate you to go above and beyond for a cause you knew nothing of. It has happened on multiple occasions, most disasters, but you cave into him every single time.

Such as the time he convinced you to fulfill the cast requirement for an indie theatre competition being hosted in the public library at night. It sounded like an embarrassing activity to take part in, and it was! If you guys had won, at least you could brag about it, but you did not, even though you could tell your team put in the most effort in the acting. Felix had not been dejected at all after the failure. He took you out for ice cream after bidding his theatre acquaintance farewell.

Or when Jisung wanted to take a trip to the train track for some edgy, deep thinking. Felix made you join them because he thought the more, the merrier. Also, Hyunjin had a midterm to study for, and Seungmin simply could not be bothered to put himself in that kind of stupid danger, where you lay down near the railroad to feel the tremor of the ground when the train drives past. Felix lay with you and Jisung on the other side of the tracks; he held your hand and reminded you to retreat your feet.

You supposed this time was no different. Your spontaneous friends have concocted a mysterious plan in which someone required all of you to participate. Felix was appointed the designated sad person retriever because you would have refused if anyone else had done it.

You had been on your usual spot on the bed, your head on a giant marshmallow plushie and your legs tucked and bent. Felix had, as usual, whenever you were going through a depressive episode, knelt before where you permanently stayed for weeks to talk to you face-to-face. It could be his gentle disposition. It could be his deep and coaxing voice, it could even be his comforting touch and firm promises to shield your potential discomfort once you are out into the cold, cold world.

It could be everything above. Or, it could just be that Felix was your friend, and despite his tendency for chaos, he has never once let you down.

You let him bring you out of your bed, and you two ran a few blocks down from the residential area of student dorm houses to the campus parking lot, where the rest of your friends were waiting for you. Regret filled your mind in trailing fog as you took uncomfortable deep breaths to steady your agitated body, courtesy of Felix’s athletic speed and inconsideration. You have not run this quickly for so long that this short run was enough to cause you to hyperventilate.

Jisung watched you with the chilly air piercing through the fabric of his jacket. Felix must not have given you time to prepare yourself because you arrived in your warm pajamas that no longer retained the heat of your room. The division from your exhausted body would soon fade as you begin slowing down, and the cold would hit you like icicles. He frowned in concern as he pulled at the hem of his sleeve before making up his mind.

He hopped down the car top, earning a warning whine from Hyunjin and an unnoticed wince from Seungmin inside the car. As he made his way around to approach you, he took his jacket off clumsily, leaving his toned arms out in the open. Goosebumps lined up his arms in the cold, but he still handed you his jacket with a hum of acknowledgment that he did not mind borrowing it to you.

“Thank you, Jisung,” you muttered as you pulled it over your head. It faintly smelt like him, like vanilla wood and cedar rain, but you were cooped up inside the house and were too far away to be engulfed by the fragrance.

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved at you dismissively before shoving his hands in his pockets. He strained and flexed his arms against the cold, finally realizing how cold the night really was. He looked at Felix with a disapproving smile of curiosity and asked a question to distract himself. “Why did you rush to get them here? We’re not operating on a deadline.”

“Oh yeah, I was gonna ask the same thing!” Seungmin said without trying to make himself more audible from behind a half-opened window. He was lazily peering at all of you outside from the car, his head rolled to the side and shaded over by the shadow. Only one of his dark brown eyes was colored by the fluorescent parking lot light.

Felix tilted his head in visible confusion. His brows furrowed with a knit to the middle before they relaxed, but his eyes remained faulty and questioning as he pulled his phone out from his jean pocket. He briefly informed himself of the time—it was midnight—and waved his phone in the air. “Were we not operating on a deadline? I thought Minho said he would only wait for five minutes by the peak, or he’s leaving without the shopping cart.”

You narrowed your eyes. A shopping cart? What kind of friend-group activity have these boys cooked up this time?

Your initial guess was that they had asked Minho, who worked the night shift at the local supermarket, to stall the end of his day so all of you could take a stroll around an empty supermarket.

It was one of the activities on Hyunjin and Seungmin’s bucket lists, both of them wanted to make it a practice for their photography hobby. Jisung likely agreed because the occurrence was aesthetic enough to be an inspiration for his music production hobby. Felix would join anything his friends were part of.

Minho may seem stoic and a self-benefitting opportunist, and he ultimately was a stoic and self-benefitting opportunist. There was no denying his priorities—himself and his loved ones—and his ability always to put the list first. But he was neither cruel nor selfish, and he could read situations like a hawk. He knew Jisung well, and through Jisung he knew you, somewhat. He may scoff at the idea of discreetly keeping the store open way after its closing time, but his heart was soft enough to do it if it meant you kids could have some time to relax through the painful university scheme.

But the supermarket was nowhere near the peak. The peak was up on the mountain top, and from what you knew, it was a place for athletic and optimistic people. It was a place of morning jogs and weekend hikes. Occasionally, beautiful girls and boys bring a picnic basket and knitted blanket uphill to take pictures. Then they promptly leave the hot sunny sky that juxtaposed the eternal chilly weather.

Neither you nor Jisung has the stamina or desire to hike up a mountain just to see an empty grass field on top. Hyunjin may have earned his license, but the narrow and rocky drive uphill always frightened him into being paranoid that an accident was bound to happen. Seungmin never indulged in sports and the pretentious fantasy of taking pictures for life validation. Felix only needed to experience the peak once, and that was enough for him.

The mountain was not a place for any of you, and it was nowhere near the supermarket.

“What did you guys plan?” You questioned before anyone could react to Felix’s concern about timeliness.

The boys exchanged glances, communicating only with their eyes and silently reaching an agreement. They had chosen to refrain from telling you anything about this meeting; its date and time, activity and purpose, location and route. It wasn’t hard to keep it a secret anyway. You had refused to meet and talk to anybody the past few weeks because of your depressive mood. But they made sure Felix would not disclose anything so you wouldn’t catch on that they went through all the trouble just to, hopefully, make you feel better.

For the operation to go smoothly, it would probably be best to keep every aspect of it a secret until everything they planned was carried out.

“You’ll see when we get there!” Felix replied with a chirp before he returned to the others. He frowned. “I swear Minho told us not to be late.”

“He did. We’re just not going to care,” Hyunjin said as he pushed himself off the car door. He unlocked the vehicle and opened the door to the driver’s seat. He got in carefully, his action contrasting his words, and as he slammed the door shut, he said, “What is he gonna do? Leave with the shopping cart? He’s not the type of person to do something like that.”

Felix hummed in dissatisfaction for a little before he shrugged, outrageously quick to come to terms with Minho’s free time could be exhausted and exploited in this situation. You watched as he walked around the car to the other side and got in, scooting himself to the middle seat. Through the window, you caught Seungmin kicking the driver’s seat after Hyunjin carelessly adjusted it back to accommodate his long legs.

Jisung stifled a chuckle when he saw the smirk on your face upon Seungmin and Hyunjin’s ceaseless banter. It was good to see you smile.

He had been so busy juggling his course credit internship and other class work that he barely got the time to pay you a visit or two during a much-needed time. He often thought about it, even though he knew his visit would remain outside your bedroom door where all he could do was knock, get rejected, and bid you goodbye.

But he thought it would do you good to know that someone is waiting for you outside your cocoon. He thought it would be nice for you to know that someone is waiting for you to take the time you need to leave your shell. So, supposed his visit was less of a visit and more of a reminder, where he would act as a memo paper stuck to the outside of your door, and you would only see it once every two weeks.

“Get in the car, you dimwits!” Seungmin called from the window after his eyes darted between Jisung, who was staring at you, to you. “Minho might just leave if we’re too late!”

Jisung perked up at Seungmin’s urge. It seemed that Seungmin successfully made Hyunjin pull his seat a few inches forward because Hyunjin looked rather irritated, but he still could not hide his humorous smirk from hearing what Seungmin said to both you and Jisung. Felix frowned in dismay but said nothing as he relaxed against the seat, catching a faint shut-eye.

“I’m riding shotgun,” Jisung announced as he jogged over to the other side of the car.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “No one’s fighting for the seat.”

“Okay?” Jisung ducked his head as he got into the car. “I still like to call it.”

Before Jisung sat down comfortably on the seat, he shoved away the mess Hyunjin carelessly placed on top. There was a box of tissue paper, a plastic water bottle, a round soap dispenser replaced with alcohol, and an opened zip-loc bag of face masks. It was all a concerned mother’s doing; Hyunjin’s mother always needed to have everything in the car for emergencies that never happened. It was bothersome, but only Hyunjin was allowed to say anything about it.

The only time any of you spoke up about the hoarded mess was when a water bottle had unknowingly rolled beneath the seats to the front, almost obstructing the way of the brake pad, when you all were hitching a ride to the night market on a summer Saturday night. Hyunjin’s mother had been very laid-back about it despite her paranoia about everything else. The fact that she allowed an additional person in the car (you had to squeeze between Felix and Seungmin and ended up sitting on half of Seungmin’s thigh) was a call for her lack of strictness.

“Ah–Jisung!” Felix whined when Jisung began throwing everything in the back seat.

You retreated your feet just in time before the dispenser could hit it. You clicked your tongue in agreement with Felix and Seungmin’s annoyance that Jisung’s solution to cleaning the mess was to dump it over to where you three sat. You helped pick up the hand sanitizer and water bottle, and you stuffed them into the side container that could barely fit the two items. Felix picked up the fallen masks and dropped them on Seungmin’s lap, and Seungmin picked up the tissue box so he could aim it at Jisung’s content face.

Hyunjin almost choked on the drink when Jisung got hit square on his temple with the corner of the tissue box. The offended whine that came out of Jisung was enough to cover the sound of the engine starting. As the car began to roll out of the campus parking lot, Jisung decided to stay still and keep the tissue box neatly on his lap.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, Hyunjin caught you staring outside the window at the passing street lights and bushes. There was neither a car nor a human in sight, but he knew you rarely looked for things to observe. Your mind has a castle of its own that changes according to your feelings and moods, that inside place of yours was enough of a worry.

Sometimes the walls are thick and impenetrable; the only way in is a secret door you must bloody your nails to find. Sometimes the double doors are open, but the bridge to cross the river stay uncooperative. Sometimes the river turns into an ocean with bodies sunk beneath. Sometimes the vines you grew and nurtured surround the castle walls like a prison. Sometimes the bridge is the remains of fire and ashes, but you stand looking across for people because the doors to the castle are locked.

Sometimes there are flowers and butterflies around. Sometimes it looks like a princess’s castle, with dreamy pink hues and soft sugarful doorknobs. Sometimes he gets to roam the grand halls like he lived in them and gets his own room with blank canvas and only the best quality paint made out of fresh fruits. Sometimes he gets to pick up a hammer and paint roller to fix the holes around the castle. Sometimes you ask him for help.

Hyunjin loved whatever state your castle could be in, even though he rarely knew the truth about it. Enough to stand on the other side of the bridge for a millennia, waiting for the wood to regrow into itself. Enough to drive up the dark, winding road uphill so he could bring you to see and do something that would hopefully make you feel better.

Without slowing the speed down, he reached down to grab the drink from the holder and took a sip. Then he raised the cup slightly and gestured it behind by shaking the cup, rattling the ice cubs inside. Everyone turned to him as if he had rung the bell of attention, and he asked, “Do you want a sip, [Name]?”

“What’d you get?” Felix asked, both for himself and for you.

“Ceylon milk tea. I got it from the local Taiwanese restaurant. For some reason, they’re selling Hong Kong style milk tea there,” Hyunjin replied as he reached behind for Felix to take the drink from his hand. “But it’s good. I thought you might like it.”

Felix raised his brow after he took a short sip. The moment the taste stained the tip of his tongue, he decided it was not for him. It wasn’t entirely bitter, but certainly the bitter taste did not overwhelm the subtle and traditional sweetness of a milk tea, which was that there were more tea and less milk and sugar. Dramatically pulling away from the drink, he nudged it to your side and you took it from his hand.

Hyunjin did not catch your grimace when you tried a sip. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly what you would like either. Like Felix, you also thought there was an imbalance of the bitter tea and the sweet milk, where while the tea did not greatly overwhelm, it did stand out like a sore ingredient. You sipped one gulp after another, distaste forming in your brain but your hand wouldn’t stop bringing the straw to your lips. You needed something to drink, and you would drink anything before you picked up a water bottle.

“Hey, Lix,” you whispered with your head leaned close to his.

Felix moved toward you, but his eyes remained straight at the road illuminated by the headlights. “Hmm?”

“What are we doing?” You asked discreetly.

“Hmm…” Felix feigned thoughtfulness for a little. It felt like he was going to tell you what they had planned up at the peak until his face busted into a sly smile. He nudged your shoulder; he could already see you roll your eyes from his smile. Feeling playful as he would, he quietly said in a sing-song voice, “I’m not telling you! You’ll see when we get up there!”

You scoffed, taking another sip of the drink and realizing that your tongue and teeth must be stained the same dirty orange hue of the milk tea. You unconsciously ran your tongue over the front row of your teeth then, the way your lips pulled into a thin line conveniently acted as a displeased grimace. You looked out the car window and saw a pit of darkness with outlines of trees. Hyunjin was making his way uphill slowly; you chose not to comment on it.

“Is this your idea?” You added then, still questioning him despite knowing he might not answer you. “You better not have planned something atrocious!”

He gasped in disbelief, if disbelief has ever been paired with the joy of mischief. “Oh, come on! What do you take me for?”

His smile flattened when you stared at him with obvious disdain. Asking that question at this moment was nothing but a plea for insults. For a moment, you genuinely would not put it past him not to figure that social cue out. Your judgemental gaze was hollow and lacked substance because it wasn’t real, and Felix knew that. He returned your gaze with deadpan; he did not need you to answer, actually. His response was just something he could say in lieu of having to reject your question again.

“I didn’t plan this,” he answered eventually. “Jisung had the idea, and Seungmin figured all the logistics out.”

“I would say you’d be thanking me after all of this is over, but I highly doubt it,” Seungmin chimed in when he saw fit. He leaned his head forward so Felix’s voluminous hair (that, funnily, did not exist this morning) would stop blocking your view of him. He looked at you with his usual deadpan, exhausted eyes. You instantly knew he was roped into this through incessant annoyance. “Jisung’s idea is outrageously bad. I’m actually surprised his creativity can stoop even lower on the safety department.”

“Hey! I’m right here!” Jisung yelled, whipping around to direct his defence at Seungmin.

Hyunjin jumped at the noise that blasted right by his ear. Not to mention Jisung has been unmoving the entire ride, he assumed the short boy had fallen asleep. The sudden drastic movement sure jolted Hyunjin out of his fearful trance of driving on the narrow road of the hill. The car remained steady under his hands, fortunately. But still, he turned to glare briefly at Jisung, his eyes wide with warning.

“What are you looking at me for? Keep your eyes on the road!” Jisung retorted to Hyunjin’s unspoken words, his accusing finger having a field day in the air. The only thing missing from his aggressive performance was him waving the tissue box around.

Hyunjin clicked his tongue. His fingers gripped the steering wheel and shifted the car's direction accordingly as he spared short glances ahead. “I was gonna say don’t scream like that. It scares me, and I might run us off the road!”

“You’re gonna end up running off the road if you don’t stop looking at Jisung anyway,” Seungmin pointed out from the back.

“I still have a bone to pick with you, Kim Seungmin!” Jisung exclaimed as he dramatically turned around to face Seungmin. “I haven’t forgotten what you said about my plan!”

“What the hell did I just say about yelling when I’m driving!” Hyunjin gritted out before muttering faint profanities under his breath, his eyes finally settling longer on the path.

You, having seen Hyunjin jump at Jisung’s sheer volume, furrowed your brows and kicked the seat in front of you. Jisung shifted his focus from Hyunjin to you, his eyes wide with betrayal, and all you did was mouth at him to stop being so loud. Jisung pulled a face at you, but then he strangled out a defeated noise from his throat that mimicked the noise a child would make during a temper tantrum.

He would say something to pick a never-ending petty fight, but not when you were in the emotional state that got all of you here in the first place. You may not be in that place at this moment, as your friends surrounded you, and you seemed reasonably decent. Jisung just has no plans of upsetting you even by one-half of an inch, so he settled with a disheartened frown. He crossed his arms and slumped against the passenger seat.

The car was quiet again, saved for the tires rolling over tiny rocks on the soiled ground and the unknown bumping of the car as it drove on the narrow road. The previous tension soothed out quickly, leaving all of your attention on the scenery out the window, which was not much to see. Your hand, which was holding the drink, slowly fell against your lap. You ended up shifting the drink between your thighs so your hands could be freed to do whatever else they wouldn’t.

Your sight could barely travel far enough between the gaps of trees, and the restriction of the car window blocked you from seeing much of the sky. It was a never-ending road ahead illuminated by the headlights, which dimmed the actual color of its surrounding. The fog was either gathering or scattering the higher up you guys went; you could not be sure with the headlights and the dark night creating illusions in the air.

One thing you could see for sure was that a car was parked not too far ahead.

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed, and his head lightly raised from his fist that was propped up on the window pane. Jisung audibly questioned when he, too, noticed the familiar car parked in the middle of the road. When the car rolled to a careful stop, the three of you from the back seat decided to raise your concerns and leaned forward to catch a better glimpse of the blockage.

“Who parks their car slap in the middle?” Hyunjin muttered under his breath as he released his seat belt, but he made no attempt to leave the car. “A damn nuisance.”

“Maybe we aren’t allowed to head up the peak today?” Felix suggested, tilting his head as he squinted his eyes at the car. He could not recognize the license plate, not that he could for anyone’s car, anyway.

“Only the police can enforce that rule, and as I see it–“ Seungmin pulled a face of inconvenience, “that’s not a police car.”

“We should go check it out,” Jisung said with a shrug, then he eyed Hyunjin and nudged his chin toward the front. “Hyunjin, you go first. I’ll cover for you.”

You and Felix both hummed and shook your head in disagreement. Seungmin said nothing as he busied himself with accessing the situation more meticulously, such as trying to recognize the car itself or even the license plate. You guys lived in a small town, and the peak wasn’t a place tourists would pick. While not everyone knew everyone well, Seungmin thought he should still remember if he’d seen a certain vehicle driving around before.

He really doubted anything bad would happen.

“You’re so damn stupid, Jisung,” Hyunjin stated calmly, as if Jisung should already know his insult as a fact and should no longer be offended by it. “I thought you watch a lot of horror movies? Indulging suspicious situation is always the least intelligent thing to do.”

Jisung threw the tissue box on Hyunjin’s lap on impulse, clearly fed up. He hastily unbuckled his seat belt, strings of colorful profanity not even you have heard of on the ludicrous side of the internet—which was basically all the sides of it—leaving his mouth like soft bullets without a clear target. He spared a glare at all of you and scoffed. “If I get attacked by a stranger, it’s on all of you!”

He got out of the car and slammed the door shut. He opened it again a second later and poked his head in. He met eyes with you and quickly clarified, “Excluding you, [Name]. But the rest of you, hmph!” The door was slammed close again, much to Hyunjin’s dismay.

You stared at Jisung’s back as he marched forward to the car. His body shivered from the cold, which he unknowingly masked away through the angry stomps of his feet and possibly his fed-up annoyance toward everyone (excluding you, as he would clarify). You played with the hem of his jacket sleeve, feeling a sudden sense of guilt that you were sure your friends did not share.

Throwing derogatory statements around was not extraordinary. Spending years together has created a thoughtful list of what can be said and what would cross the line; of course, the only way to know what could be too far was that the line has been crossed in the past because rarely would anyone verbalize their specific boundaries until it has been breached. All five of you knew each other well enough to recall the list like the blemish on your backs.

Jisung lacking situational intelligence, Hyunjin being a lanky beanpole, Seungmin completely missing the humanistic point in every conversation, Felix sounding like classic but terrible soap opera stars with his weird accent, and you inherited not a single good gene from your parents. Were there things hurtful? Yes. Were they hurtful in the circumstance of your friendship? No, because it wasn’t true.

Jisung did not, in fact, lack situational intelligence. If anything, he may subtly be the best at reading a room. Hyunjin being a lanky beanpole was just another way to say he’s tall and lean, which has no true negative connotation behind it. Seungmin was, actually, almost always right about everything, and he almost always takes the best route. Felix—well, yeah, his was more of a joke than an insult, really, and he never minded it. You hated your parents! Of course, you didn’t inherit a single good gene. There is none to inherit!

Calling Jisung ‘stupid,’ or at least not defending him when it was done, was not why you felt guilty. It was because his jacket was on your back, he got out the car in shivering cold, and none of you decided to follow him just for an accompany. You sighed in defeat to yourself as you moved away from the window and turned to Felix. You made him hold the milk tea before unbuckling your seat belt and leaving the car.

“Jisung!” You called as you jogged up to him, who was already beside the car.

When you made it to where he stood, you found him already engaged in a conversation with somebody else. You side-stepped from behind him and poked your head over his shoulder, immediately recognizing the cart from the local supermarket and, standing behind it with his arms crossed before his chest, Minho.

Minho paused mid-sentence when he noticed your presence. He quietly acknowledged your presence by scanning you up and down. He pieced two and two together immediately; Jisung did bring something to keep himself warm, but the clothing was just not on himself anymore. And you were in a surprisingly minimal amount of fabric; he assumed you came straight from home. You would have been colder than Jisung would be. The boy made a selfless call.

Minho’s annoyance clearly faded into his furrowed brows and relaxed shoulders as he began reasoning with himself on whether it was fair to be irritated with you all. He concluded that it was fair: he ended his shift late, he stole company property, he had to wait for you all to be done with whatever it was so he could return said property, and his father’s van (which he borrowed to fit the shopping cart) broke down before reaching the peak.

Minho was beyond annoyed. He could have been home, doused himself with hot water and a nice body wash, and spent some time playing with his beloved cats. But no, Jisung and friends were about to do something very important. Jisung and friends needed to—Minho eyed you pointedly—cheer one of their friends up from a depressive episode.

The feeling of unfairness could only go so far until it reached a roadblock, and then it was altruism and the guilt for not wanting to enact it. What could he do? Deny Jisung’s request? Tell your friends that it wasn’t a big deal because everyone gets upset once in a while? Look at the kid in town he watched growing up turn from just being shy to, on occasion, dangerously miserable, and tell himself it was none of his business?

“Get Hyunjin out here, I need his car to help jump-start mine,” Minho said.

“It is technically his mom’s car,” Jisung clarified.

Minho grimaced with nonchalance. “She can take it up with him.” He said as he went toward the other side of the car, presumably getting the necessary tools from the trunk.

You turned around wordlessly and moved into everyone’s line of sight. Hyunjin raised his brows at you questioningly from behind the wheel, his head still propped up on the base of his palm. The two at the back poked their head over to the front. You beckoned them over, mouthing at them to get out of the car. It took a short moment of confusion and you waving your hand more aggressively before Hyunjin took the initiative to leave the car. The rest followed him.

It took Hyunjin a few big strides to make his way to you. He stopped promptly behind you, and his torso leaned slightly to the side as his eyes adjusted to the dark atmosphere. Minho was already out of sight by the time you all gathered by the front of the van, leaving only the shopping cart to signify his supposed arrival.

Felix furrowed his brows at the sole existence of the shopping cart and looked around the area. “Where is Minho?” He asked. “Also, I don’t remember his car being a van.”

“It’s his dad’s,” Jisung replied as he moved around the shopping cart and curled his fingers around the handle. He pushed it forward, away from the van's headlights and into a darker spot, and he looked back at all of you. “It was the only thing big enough to hold the shopping cart.”

“Must be a hassle for him,” Seungmin muttered with no remorse. Minho agreed to do this after he clarified with detail what Jisung initially told him about this plan. Sympathy and gratitude should be given where it is due; this was not one of those times. Arching his neck slightly to look at the top of the mountain, which was their supposed meeting destination, Seungmin added, “He didn’t even make it up to the peak.”

“His car broke down,” Hyunjin guessed before walking to where the shopping cart was. He took some time to glance down the road further uphill and found that there wasn’t much he could see with everything being so dark. The city light did not travel here. “We’ll just walk. It’s not that far up ahead.”

You perked up when Hyunjin suddenly beckoned you toward him. You tilted your head in question but listened nonetheless. Seungmin followed behind you, leaving a baffled Felix behind.

“Hello? Is nobody curious about Minho’s whereabouts?” Felix mused incredulously under his breath, but upon not wanting to be left alone, he jogged up to the rest of you.

“He’s probably getting tools to fix the car,” Jisung mentioned off-handedly while listening to Hyunjin’s instruction to keep the cart steady. “He said he needed to jump-start it.”

Seungmin hummed in thought, then he huffed out a sardonic laugh and peeped at Hyunjin, who was busy helping you into the shopping cart. Hyunjin did not notice the attention given to him. He kept his grip firm around the sides of your waist and hoisted you upward, slowly dropping you into the cart before you adjusted your position against the cold metal cage. Seungmin pursed his lips slightly then, mildly intrigued at this decision.

“Didn’t you just say it’s not a long walk up,” Seungmin pointed out to Hyunjin without verbalizing his point.

You watched quietly with a smile as Hyunjin scoffed with an eye roll. There was no intention to answer the question, and you knew Seungmin wasn’t really bothered about whether you would walk up to the peak. It was just a petty fight to pick, something he could say to dampen the mood in a friendly manner. Felix even cordially shoved the both of them and offered to join you in the cart to add to the weight.

“Hyunjin!” Minho’s call hit right when you guys were about to depart uphill. He appeared from the side of the van with jumper cables in his hands. He knocked on the van with his knuckles to get himself attention, as if his voice wasn’t loud enough to jolt everyone out of their little bubble. “I need to jump-start my car. Can you lift the hood?”

Hyunjin exhaled incredulously, his face scrunched in disbelief as he gestured toward the van and his mother’s car. “What are you talking about? I never said I was going to help you with it,” he argued, but his feet moved as if he was ready to help. Or he could just be getting closer to continue the disagreement in a corner. “How are you even going to do that? You would need to turn the car around, your cables aren’t long enough.”

“He scared me,” Felix muttered with a sigh. He placed a hand on his heart, then two fingers at the base of his jaw to feel his pulse. When you laughed, he glared childishly at you. “Don’t laugh! He came out of nowhere!”

“And he’s stirring up trouble,” Seungmin chimed in with a grimace, his eyes focused on where Hyunjin went off to.

Jisung turned his head to look over his shoulder. He could not see where the two had gone off to, but he could hear them throwing words at each other. He did not understand those vehicular terms well, but he supposed he did not need to sense that an argument was brewing. Looking away to Seungmin, Jisung grabbed his friend’s attention with a soft yell before tapping the shopping cart's handle welcomingly.

“I’ll handle them,” Jisung said. “Just head up there. We’ll catch up. And watch the cart, it’s a bit heavy–ow! Ow! I didn’t mean you!” He panicked when you reached up to pinch his forearm, one leg stomping against the ground while he made no genuine attempt to remove himself from the pain.

Seeing that time was being stalled, Seungmin ushered Jisung away while muttering words of dismissive annoyance, his lips pulled into a constant grimace. Jisung clicked his tongue and retaliated by throwing air punches, but he soon left to deal with the hollering voices by the cars. Seungmin returned to you and Felix, his hands curled around the handle before he scoffed.

“He walked right into that one,” Seungmin commented as he began to walk uphill. Felix followed along with a faint giggle.

You laughed with him as you leaned your back against his direction and relaxed. “He did.”

Then it was quiet, again, like the norm between friends.

Felix had not attempted to help Seungmin push the cart uphill; Seungmin did not look like he was struggling, and the slope was not so great that walking up itself would be troublesome. The rusty turns of the mini wheels proved the old age of the shopping cart. The squeak with every other full turn blended in harmoniously with the nighttime chirps, and soon enough, you found out you could no longer hear the voices of Hyunjin and Minho.

The air was cold, cold enough for your lips to turn frosty and dry. You wrapped Jisung’s jacket closer around you and rubbed your hands together. Mindlessly as you blew air at your palms, you glanced up at the night sky and remembered that you were under one. The visibility of the stars from up the mountain surprised you, and there didn’t look to be any clouds of a different shade than the gentle dark sky.

Turning your head, you looked to the sky's left and right side of the sky, unsure whether they were East and West. It was a big blanket blue; dark enough to be black but not dark enough to rid itself of its morning colors. You switched your position so you could better stare upward, which had you slumping lower on the cart and leaning the side of your head against the back of Seungmin’s palm.

You didn’t even notice that he wasn’t holding onto the handle anymore and was instead leaning against it. The air was icy cold, but his hand was warm.

Seungmin briefly glanced at you when he felt the tickle of your hair against his skin. You spared him no mind, your eyes focused on the night sky he so often sees. He could barely see your features, but he supposed there must be a childlike glow on your face with how long you stared at the sky, as if it was a foreign object of fascination and not an exiting ceiling of the world.

Seungmin softened at the thought. He liked it when you had no anger and no grudge. He liked it when there was nothing to pressure you into a certain expectation. He liked it when you got to dangle your legs on the edge in relaxation. This was how the world should be like for you, and through that, how he thought the world was all it was for him.

He had always prided himself in his logic and truths, but most importantly, it was how he could deter himself from it. Nothing about what he was doing was good for him; he could be resting at home under warm covers, except he was at the peak without his parent's knowledge. But then his world became more than just picking the best option or knowing the right thing. The world became more than just from life til death but every moment in between.

This was what it’s all about to Seungmin, perhaps. Sneaking out of home to execute a illogical plan of cheering up someone in a bad place. Pushing a stolen shopping cart uphill and letting his friend lean their cheek on his hand as they stare at the stars, and he says nothing because his friend is not angry anymore. Basking in solace because he likes it when his friend can finally rest their head.

It had always just been about that.

“Here we are,” Seungmin announced when you three reached the peak.

You looked away from the sky and forward. There was a bit of ground before the peak reached a downward slope. Seungmin pushed the cart closer to the edge where the slide began and stopped. Curiously, you raised your head to check out the scenery. There was a straight path downhill to a cliff of some sort. You could not be sure. Trees were growing from below, and the ground may not be too far down as the trees way below the tip of their growth.

The path was singled out by the grass fields surrounding it, which you assumed meant people had walked down this slope toward the cliff before. Perhaps it was just a short jump down? You had no intention of finding that out. Moving your eyes away from far ahead, you noticed something lodged at the cliff's edge that stood out to you. It was a wooden board, possibly bigger than the wheels of the shopping cart but not too big that it would be noticeable to someone not paying attention.

“It’s so dark out here,” Felix muttered as he looked around the area.

It wasn’t eerie, per se. One might think so if they were afraid of the dark, but Felix wasn’t that kind of person. He was cautious but not necessarily scared, primarily due to him not believing in the supernatural.

“Yeah, it’s nighttime,” Seungmin responded. “It tends to get dark outside.”

“Have you ever, just, not said anything?” Felix asked with a bitter smile upon Seungmin’s sarcastic remark, and he felt a sudden surge of irritation when Seungmin decided to stay silent as a response.

“Hey, you guys,” you called as you turned around to face your two friends, completely disregarding the tension in the air. “Do you guys see that thing over there by the cliff? The super small wooden sign thing.”

Felix relaxed and checked out the way your finger was pointed. He squinted his eyes to see better before he giggled in realization. “Oh, that! Yeah, I see it!”

“You see it?” You questioned with a scoff. “You sounded like you knew it.”

“I–what?” Felix huffed out a laugh discreetly, then he waved his hand and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes at Felix’s obliviousness. Felix had done the most part in keeping this operation a secret, but he was still careless. It wasn’t such a big deal. They just decided to keep everything a secret until last minute just in case you could give their idea an immediate rejection, which Seungmin guessed you would. Either way, Seungmin couldn’t even find it in himself to blame Felix. Who would have thought you would pick up on how Felix laughed at your question? Certainly not either of them.

“We asked Chan to put it there this evening because he was usually close by at that time,” Seungmin informed. He looked like he was debating himself for a moment before he added, “It was part of the plan Jisung made.”

You hummed knowingly and returned to the wooden sign. You wondered what it could possibly do there.

It simply looked like a blocking sign that would be too easy to avoid. Was it to block you guys from falling off the cliff? If so, why did they not just plan something farther away from the slope? Besides, you did not think any of you would be clumsy enough to roll down a hill! A wooden sign like that could not have been for a blockage! But what else could it be for?

“What is the plan?” You asked again, this time looking solely at Seungmin. “I asked Felix before, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

“That’s because we all collectively decided not to,” Seungmin said. “I mentioned you might not like the plan we have for you. I meant that.”

You sat up on the cart before slowly getting onto your knees. You faced Seungmin, your torso leaned forward as if to intimidate him with the proximity, but he made no attempt to remove himself from the space you intruded in. Calmness took over his expression despite your relentless stare. He has no intention to tell you right now when you could very well up and leave the scene. Then they would have done all of this for nothing.

Felix was frowning at the side while he watched the two of you stare at each other in silence. He has had this unshakable thought that he was being ignored since Hyunjin stopped the car in front of Minho’s van. Things may have been more hectic than needed, and he was being relatively quiet, but wasn’t this a little too much? It happened when Hyunjin was busy hoisting you into the shopping cart, and just then when you leaned on Seungmin’s hand to gaze at the sky, and now!

No. He was not overreacting! He has been standing obediently on the side the whole time! Has the narrator of this story forgotten about him?

“What the hell are you two doing?” Felix asked lowly after he approached you and Seungmin and placed his head between the space of your faces. He side-eyed both of you with judgemental confusion before he leaned away and scoffed, “I’m not here to third wheel.”

“You’re one to talk. This is happening because of you!” Seungmin said.

“How is this happening because of me?” Felix retorted with his hands raised in mock defense. He dropped his arms and placed his hands on his hips, and his eyes squinted in motherly disagreement. “Honestly, is it really that big a deal to tell them? It’s about to happen anyway.”

“What is about to happen, Lix?”

“Oh, an endearment!” Seungmin let out a breathy giggle that was painfully sarcastic. “But no, you are the third wheel.”

You glared at Seungmin for chiming in the conversation without an answer to your much-asked question. You found Felix pursing his lips in thought, possibly thinking whether he wanted to tell you what Jisung had planned or how to tell you what they planned to do. He gave it a moment before he shrugged to himself and approached the handle of the cart so he could better point you toward a direction.

“See over the cliff?” He asked with a jab of his finger. When you nodded, he continued, “It’s not a cliff, actually. It’s just a small drop down. You can jump if you’re brave enough. It’s not that big a deal. But, here’s the thing!” He moved forward and gestured down the slope leading toward the edge. “The slope is steep enough that if you speed down and jump, the momentum will push you high enough to see over the trees.”

“That’s not–“ Seungmin hummed from behind you, “that’s not really it.”

You turned your head to question him with a pointed look, and Seungmin sighed in defeat.

“Okay, think about skateboarding park structures,” he started, using his hands to demonstrate. “They usually have structures with an inverted dome shape, like a ‘U’ shape with the top of each side higher up.” He pointed at the tips of his fingers after he made a ‘U’ shape with one hand. “Now, if you slide down from one side, you get a push to go upwards to the other side. Subsequently, you fly into the air.”

You narrowed your eyes, glancing from Seungmin to the wooden board on the edge that seemed to act as a pseudo-momentum maker. If Seungmin was using a skateboarding park as an example, something would be pushed over the cliff or flung into the air. Was it the shopping cart? Was Jisung trying to see if physics could make a shopping cart go skyward? They wouldn’t need you here for that, though!

“Oh my god,” you whispered as recognition hit you, then you repeated it louder and angrier for them to hear. “Oh my god!”

“Wait! [Name], hear me out!” Felix rushed over and tried to prevent you from jumping out of the cart.

“I have nothing to hear from you guys!” You protested, trying to remove Felix’s hands on your shoulders which continued to coerce you back into your original seat. You attempted to stand up again, but the shaking of the cart forced you back down. “I’m not getting flung off a cliff, you maniacs!”

“What did I say?” Seungmin muttered as he gripped the shopping cart handle tightly to prevent you and Felix from shaking it down the hill. “I told you we should have waited to tell them!”

“What is waiting gonna do, huh? We should have let this be a surprise!” Felix argued, trying to gently shove you away from leaving the cart. “It’s not really that bad, [Name]! We’ve tested it out before!”

“Well, we can’t exactly lie to them either!” Seungmin chimed in despite the ongoing tug-of-war you and Felix were having. When Felix could not find the time to respond to him, he whined and gave Felix a kick on the ankle. “Hey! Did you hear what I said?”

“I’m a bit occupied?” Felix exclaimed. “How am I the only person trying to keep this operation going?”

“It’s going nowhere, Felix!” You hollered.

“Be quiet!”

Seungmin winced and immediately reached up to cover his ears when he heard Jisung scream beside his head. Felix also paused in surprise to find that Jisung and Hyunjin had already made their way uphill to where you guys were. Jisung laughed sheepishly at the glares he received, a hand reaching to scratch his neck. Hyunjin seemed to have deciphered what had possibly happened, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. He knew Jisung shouldn’t have told you guys to go ahead without him.

The silence from the sheer shock created by Jisung’s scream was short-lived as, very quickly, your noises of panic set in.

Seungmin blinked a few times to register the sound of rolling wheels, and he finally processed that his hands were no longer holding onto the handle to stop the cart from running downhill. Felix followed Seungmin’s gaze forward, and he widened his eyes when he saw that the shopping cart was already tipping backward and rolling down the steep slope. This was not how it was supposed to happen, even though he had just suggested inputting the element of surprise!

“Shit, they’re falling!” Jisung yelled after you.

“Hey! Hey!” Felix was the first to bolt after you, disregarding his friends’ protest.

He choked on his saliva when he tripped on his own feet. He managed to stumble back up just in time, and the quick steps of his stumbling boosted his body forward so he could catch up with the cart. He extended his arm forward as best as possible and wrapped his hand around the cart's handle. He thought about pulling backward, and immediately he went against it because he knew his body was not steady enough to go against gravity in this clumsy state.

Your heart flew in a million different directions in your chest, unsure how this would end. If what Seungmin said was right, this drop wouldn’t be too steep. Death would have a lower possibility of occurring than injuries, which to you did not feel comforting because you intensely disliked pain. You briefly turned away from Felix to watch the nearing edge. Then you looked back at him struggling to catch up, and then upward at your friends on top of the peak running downward.

A giggle left your lips. It was an involuntary reaction, so out of place that you laughed at the existence of it. You were rolling down toward a cliff, and all you could do was laugh because… you weren’t exactly scared, were you? No. You were not. The wind blew against your face harshly, reminding you that you were falling backward, and you could only keep grinning.

This was thrilling, if anything, like a roller coaster without any safety measures. And the sight of your friends running after you like moths to a flame. Their ugly, frightened, and hurried expressions painted their supposed pretty features. And the knowledge that Felix would bolt after you regardless of the risk. It was funny. These were your friends. Your stupid but loveable friends.

It reminded you of when Hyunjin almost broke Seungmin’s nose after he managed to coax Seungmin onto a skateboard and decided that Seungmin was skilled enough to handle himself on a skateboard down the stairs. Or when Jisung thought it was a tremendous teenage experience to stand too close to Mines on New Year's Day even though the firework was loud and firey. Events that made you all scream in excited fear, in the joy of misery, friendly fire.

Briefly turning around, you closed your eyes and braced for impact when you saw that the shopping cart was nearing the wooden block. It hit with a forced and abrupt stop, and as expected, you found yourself being hoisted up into the air high enough to see over the trees—over the trees, you saw, was the city. Time seemed to slow down when you recognized the place of your residence from all the way up at the peak, and your heart opened.

Lights sprawled across the plane of existence; in street lights, in neon signs, in bedrooms lights, in headlights. The city's center was far away from the town where you lived, but as a whole, everything was vibrant and beautiful, and everything existed together. There were people on the streets, people in their apartments, people in cars, and people in stores. The lights stayed on because people were alive, and sometimes you forgot you were part of the promise that the city would remain awake forever.

People exist around you all the time, a sign of livelihood and human intimacy when you acknowledge them quietly, repeatedly, day after day. The old lady at the local convenience store, the classmate you never talked to, the group of kindergarteners crossing the road with their teacher, and you whose bedroom light stays on as a guide point for the adults returning home after a long day of work.

We all promised each other to stay alive by unknowingly inserting ourselves in this massive knowledge of ‘Us,’ so stay alive.

“I got you!”

Felix stepped onto the back of the lower tray and jumped upward. He used the handle as leverage to push himself further into the air, almost falling backward when his weight overwhelmed the empty cart. He gave a hasty push with his feet against the basket edge, finally being within arm’s reach of you, and he wrapped his arms around your body just as you two went over the cliff and began falling.

You buried your head toward his chest, your eyes shut tight, and Felix placed his hand on the back of your head to shield you from the fall. When you two landed, it was on a soft mattress, but the fall itself was so heavy that even as you landed on a mattress, your bodies ached. After Felix released you, you looked up to find him carefully scanning you for discomfort, and you laughed.

“Where did the mattress come from?” You asked between fits of giggles.

“We also asked Chan to put it here. He had a spare one at home.” Felix replied. Then he raised his brows in confusion. His heart had never run this fast, and you were laughing with every fiber of your positive bones. He huffed a questioning noise then, tilting his head into the mattress. He panted between words. “What’s–what’s so funny?”

You slowed down a little at his question and decided not to answer him because you had no idea why you were laughing, either. You were just excited, but there was no reason why you felt so. You were in no mood to explain your feelings to anyone and seek out the root of them for yourself. You just wanted to be in the moment where your body was thrown into uncontrollable joy.

Felix did not push further. He let a smirk show, and he rolled his eyes in defeat. “Okay. As long as you’re happy, then I have no complaints.”

You exhaled. You were happy. Even if it was for this moment, you felt better than staying cooped under your covers and drying your sore eyes for days. You thought about doing something when you get home; perhaps you would eat a cake, drink sodas, or read a book. Or you could hang out with your friends again and catch up with them.

You blinked away the fog in your eyes. You felt fine.

And then it was quiet. Quietness was what being friends was about. Or perhaps it was all about being more than friends and not knowing it, but that was not for this story to discover. This story was about great friends doing the stupidest things to make each other smile again. For the most part, the plan succeeded.

“You ran after me,” you muttered to Felix and placed a hand on his cheek. “That’s stupid.”

He smiled and watched you with an affectionate glint. Even the raise of his brow seemed to scream that he admired you greatly, and he never wanted you to be sad. “You think so?”

You grinned audibly with a nod, and there was something about him. There was something about Lee Felix that made him the only boy who can ever drag you out of bed. There was something about him that you never dared to open your heart to, but the thrill that hasn’t died down yet made you want to move closer to him. You felt you could kiss him, and he wouldn’t mind.

“You know what I take you for? Remember you asked me that back in the car,” you said suddenly, and despite not remembering what it was, he nodded to hear you talk more. You kept your hand on his cheek, memorizing his face forever, and whispered, “You’re like a gentle stream of water. You don’t hurt me, Felix.”

Felix wouldn’t mind if you kissed him now. He wouldn’t mind a bit.

“What about me? What do you take me for?” Jisung popped out of nowhere—since when did he get this skillset?—and leaned his head down to stay above Felix’s. He smiled with his eyes closed, smug and shameless, and he jutted his cheeks out on purpose by pursing his lips. “Put your hand on my cheek too, [Name].”

You laughed and did as he wished. He smiled with a soft nuzzle against your palm. For a moment you let the coldness of his cheek still the blood running through your veins. This boy was real, and he was your friend. Much like Felix, who laid across from you, and Seungmin, who sat next to Hyunjin by the edge of the cliff. They were all here, and they were alive, and so were you.

These boys were your best friends, which was why you get to do this.

“You! Are! A! Psychotic! Rodent!”

Jisung gasped, then he began yelling in pain when you switched from a gentle hand to a harsh pinch on his cheek. You got up along with Jisung and forced him to stay at a place as you went off on him for even thinking of this in the first place. Felix stayed behind you, glancing at Jisung apologetically while he kept his peace by remaining silent. He knew if he tried to chime in, he would be kneeling next to Jisung and getting an earful from you, so he opted to say nothing.

Seungmin and Hyunjin, who decided not to jump off the cliff so they could help pull you guys up later, sat down to rest. Hyunjin chuckled under his breath upon Jisung’s gloomy state, and he laughed even more at Jisung’s audacity to whine out loud in response to your scolding. Seungmin scoffed, knowing this was going to take longer than usual. He nudged Hyunjin’s elbow then, and one shared look with each other came the conclusion that neither of them would help Jisung out of the trouble he put himself in.

He has really got the learn how to read the room for once!

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nihyunluvskookie · 7 months

Text

“this is my birthday gift?”

Bang Chan one shot

Pairing: Bang Chan × Female reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: no warnings it’s just fluff

word count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: This was a very random idea for his birthday, and I wrote this in a rushed way, hope you still find it cute >< Happy Chan day 💗💗 love him so much and this is not proofread- still I hope you enjoy <3

Happy Reading :)

I was wondering, how to waste time till midnight, since our dinner was over and we were already on the way to his car. “It’s getting late Ava” I saw it was almost 11 pm.

“I will drive, tonight” he gave me a look, “What?”

“Why suddenly?”

“I just want to, no arguments Chan”

“Okay, okay” he nodded and laughed at me.

“Let’s get in” he got inside the car and so did I. I had this whole thing planned, it would barely take twenty minutes for me to reach my home, it’s not that far. I looked at my watch, I had almost forty-five minutes in total.

I started driving, Chan played some music “I am craving for ice cream Chan,” my eyes were still focused on the road, “but you said no when I asked if we should order there?”

“Having ice creams outside is fun”

“As you say Ava” I smiled at his defeat. Maybe he was busy with all the song recordings and work, I get it but I wanted to surprise him for his birthday. I wonder if he remembers if tonight, well practically tomorrow is his birthday.

Soon, I parked the car and went out to buy ice cream. Chan was smiling, “you look happy”

“Yes, because I am with you.” I turned to look at him, “This is why I tell you, we should go out often and you shouldn’t overwork always. I know work is important but at times you should take some days off and enjoy everything around you” he got closer and pinched my cheeks “yes ma’am” he always took me in surprise.

While pinching my cheeks, his face was very close to my face. Every time, he comes this close to me, the proximity kills me. Makes me wonder, how is this guy the most adorable guy I found in my life and we are dating; it’s been probably four months but I just want to kiss all over him whenever he is this close to me but I am just shy to even take a step.

Soon, we reached the ice cream stall and took our favorite flavors and since I wanted to use up all the time, I was eating slowly.

“So, how was your day?” he asked me, “It was good but dinner and now an unplanned ice cream date made it better.” He smiled at me. “that’s sweet”

“I know I am” I laughed it off and he was staring at me, “what happened?”

“You’re so pretty Ava” he smiled at me and the urge to kiss him was something I was resisting.

After finishing our ice creams, I went to drive again, I looked at the time, and I still had a lot of time. I had an idea, to drive away to another place. I was praying for him to not notice, so I kept him busy with conversations. “Ava”

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

“To my home? remember you told me it’s getting late and I don’t think you will like it if your girlfriend takes a cab home from your place?” I kept my eyes on the road and tried to steal a glance at his face, “Yes, but this is not the way to your home”

“And who do you think knows better?”

“Yes, but” I took a turn which was the way to my office, “Ava, are you sure?”

I stopped the car and looked at him, “Oh shit, this is the way to my office, guess we need to go back”

“Ava, how could you?” he looked at me in disbelief, “It’s night time Chan, it happens.”

“Gosh, next time I am driving you back home, you messy girl” he laughed and I started driving again.

And according to me, it took twenty minutes for us to reach. I pulled into my driveway, “we reached, see.”

“yeah.” He looked at me, I could say he didn’t want to let me go. There was something, between us, I could always read him like a book, I could tell when he wanted to be with me or he didn’t want to let me go, I could tell if he was holding back the urge to play with me or tease me.

“Come with me.” he looked confused, “I need to show you something, then you can go back home” he looked skeptical, “Come on, Chan. Let’s go.”

I pull him out of the car, successfully. I hold his hand and he follows me; I missed holding his hands.

I unlock the door of my house and switch on the lights first. I pull him and make him sit on the kitchen aisle, he looks at me. I was waiting for the clock to strike at 12 am. I went towards the fridge, “what are you searching for Ava?” I was about to take out the cake, I baked for him and felt his arms around my waist. “Chan?”

“Yes?” he rested his head on my shoulder, I took out the cake carefully, “A cake?” he lifted his face but his arms didn’t leave my waist, “Yes” I kept the cake on the kitchen aisle and took out the candles.

After lighting them up, I heard the clock. “Happy birthday Chan” he looked surprised, “you remembered?”

“How could I forget?” I smiled at him, he possibly didn’t think I would forget his birthday. “Now, make a wish and blow out the candles, I made this for you” he nodded, he closed his eyes and wished for something, he looked at me and smiled; the moment he opened his eyes. I gestured for him to blow out the candles and he did. “Happy Birthday love” he looked surprised because this was the first time I called him ‘love’ rather than ‘Chan’

“Thank you so much, my love” he smiled at me, I was about to say something but then he leaned in close, his breath was hitting my face, I was waiting for him to give him but he kissed my cheeks. “thankyou so much for this”

Once he pulled back, he looked at me, “Now where’s my gift? Baby?” I was wondering how to do, every time I think about kissing him, I just don’t get the courage. I took a deep breath, “Close your eyes, and I will give you your birthday gift.” He smiled at me and closed his eyes.

“Okay” he said and waited for me, I was preparing myself. I took a deep breath and leaned closer and just kissed him. Once I kissed him, I was about to pull back but his hand went to hold my neck and he pulled me closer. And kissed me better than I did “this is my birthday gift?” he asked me in between kisses and smiled.

“Yes” I said and kissed him again, his other hand was on my waist, “Then I want every day as my birthday if I get to kiss you as my birthday gift”

I pulled back and looked at him, “You need to eat this cake and go home” I stepped back, and he suddenly pulled me closer, “are you sure you want to let me go, after our first kiss” I was about to answer him but he kissed me again.

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starlighthan · 1 year

Text

SHOWSTOPPER — PART ONE.

pairings: non-idol!minho and gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff, angst, enemies/academic rivals to lovers, fake dating au, university au

warnings: a kiss without consent, curse words, physical harassment, mentions of murder and violence, and minho being confusing ! :’D

word count: 11k words (WOW that’s a lot, and that’s just the first part help)

synopsis: minho really wanted to get his ex back by fake dating you, but why were you an obstacle in this plan of his?

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @cosmic-railwayxo

song inspos: 121u - day6, valentine - 5 seconds of summer, everything has changed - taylor swift & ed sheeran, best song - young k

note: i have returned... with a long cliché and cheesy fic, for the first time!!! this is an entry for @hiraya-m’s movie night! this fic is inspired by the movie, she’s dating the gangster, so expect a lot of parts similar to some scenes in the film! this has a ton of time skips (which i think are somehow essential for the fic lol), and this is my first time writing a long fic, so this could be fast-paced or something :’D bear with me in this fic pls i’m not sure if some of you all are fine with cliché content, i really tried to mirror the vibe of the movie at some point! i was thinking of posting this after the WHOLE fic is done but the 11k’s been sitting here for 6+ months (which is why the writing’s kinda shit plz), so here you go!

Lately, everything felt so unreal. And what did you do for the whole day? Pretend that the relationship you got yourself was nothing.

It’s working.

You feel the quick rush of the wind on your face. “Were you not kidding when you texted me? Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Dahyun ran to you to bombard you with questions about a piece of particular news you just shared with her. You let the word spread before telling your friends about it after they heard such an unexpected update about you.

“Keep it quiet. I’ll tell you all about it if you keep your voice down,” you quickly covered the mouth of the girl in front of you. After that rough move, you dragged her to the seat beside you and fixed her messy hair.

“There you go,” you tried to smile. Dahyun looks… not that bad. “Alright, I’m not! We’re just doing this for his ex. And it’s been just a few days, Dahyun! I don’t want everybody to know right away.”

Dahyun snorted, moving her head away from you. Her assumptions were correct. There was no way that you’d date Lee Minho. You’re “out of his league”, and you two are secretly enemies.

Not only does he tease you every second, but almost every class is also a competition. You’ll never forget how he was petty over the fact that he got a perfect score in the machine project first just because he scheduled his demo earlier than you. You could’ve rejoiced since the two of you were the only ones who got a perfect score in your class, but no. Minho decided to use his bragging rights because of that demo appointment unnecessarily. You were too nervous to demo right after the deadline; that was it!

When you stepped into the computer lab earlier this morning, you immediately heard your classmates close to Minho talking about your relationship. They’re right, though. Who would date a new person just a few days after he and his ex broke up? You’re right. It’s Minho—he gave out that kind of vibe.

Sighing and shaking your head, you cross your arms. “You need time to process and laugh over that, Kim? He’s an annoying ass. Who would fall for him?” You know that anybody would. That dude’s not only smart but also attractive: a consistent dean’s lister, a volleyball varsity player, and a nice guy. You’re the only person he’s not friendly to.

“Anybody would. Minho is a pretty cool guy,” someone joined in your conversation. That was the only answer, as expected.

Chaeyoung gets a chair from your other side and places it in front of you and Dahyun. “I heard it, by the way, _____. Dahyun told me. Minho choosing you just to get his ex back totally makes sense. You hate him, and he hates you. Hell, even his ex hates you! That woman would take him back in a flash if she sees you with him.”

You recall the last encounter you had before confirming the relationship. You snort, “The funny thing is that that was not how he approached me and told me his problem.”

“Both of you avoid each other like the plague. Yeah, Minho would never ask you to fake date him all of a sudden—” Dahyun cut her off by hitting her arm. Chaeyoung groans, holding her arm tight. “Just tell us!”

I’m really sorry.

Is this the person who accidentally bumped you yesterday? You had to go home with a coffee stain on your white shirt. It might be him because you have no idea who he was, and you’re sure you don’t have his number.

I still love you.

“You just received a message, right? Why is that person flooding you right when you’re in class?” Yeji moves her seat closer to you, peeking at the phone in your hands. “You gotta hurry, though. You know our professor wants some peace in group activities.”

I miss you so much.

Who even is this?

In case you lost my number, it’s 09*********.

“_____, do you mind turning your phone off, even just for an hour?”

I know that you’re really happy with him, but I want to see you.

Shit, your professor’s glaring at you. Yeji takes your phone and does the work. “Just power off!”

Unconsciously scratching your head, you apologize, “I’m so sorry, Ma’am. That was a lot of spam messages.”

“Learn how to mute your phone next time.” You nodded right away and said yes. Oh, you’re so done. You’re the teacher’s pet in this class; you might’ve lost it because of these messages.

What’s weird is that it goes on even the next few days after. You still receive messages. While in the canteen, you lightly monitor the phone in front of you as you work on assignments. The truth is, you’re looking after every message and call made by this person. Even if you muted this number, you wonder if they will stop soon.

“I don’t understand that. What the hell is that?”

“That’s called math, you dumbass!”

“Sorry! I’m not in a computer-related degree like _____!”

“So am I, Chaeyoung!”

Grunting, you go back to flipping the notes in your notebook. You are already not in the mood to look at the messages and calls from your phone right now. The deadline for this assignment is less than an hour, and you’re unfortunately procrastinating.

The phone rings loudly, mixing with the noise made by your surroundings. The stoves from every stall sizzle very loud, the laughs students can’t hold in, and utensils and plates are clacking here and there. It was too overwhelming until you just wanted to get out of here. But you have got to eat, you still have two more classes later, and you’ll have no time to eat.

As your phone's ringing ends, it returns just a minute later. This cycle has repeatedly happened for the past twenty minutes, and you don’t give a damn about it now.

You quickly look at the surrounding people. The table at the center of the room was Minho and his friends. Felix and Chan are members of the volleyball varsity. From what you know, they’re the only close friends Minho has in computer science. His other friends, like Seungmin, Changbin, and Jisung, are taking different degrees, and you are coincidentally friends with them too. That’s all because of Yeji.

Minho, Chan, and Felix are the popular ones. Being a varsity team member equals a big following from the student population. The yearly championships are like a tradition; everybody attends that every year. So, as expected, they’ll sincerely support their alma mater’s team.

You admit that they’re very skilled players. Minho’s the best at serving, Felix can receive the ball right away with his speed, and Chan can block so well because of how high he can jump. In conclusion, the team’s weak without them.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked at your side immediately. “Are you aware that you’ve been staring at Minho and his friends? And Minho’s looking back at you? With a phone in his hand?”

Widening your eyes, you pretend to be working on your assignment again. Hopefully, none of them will bother you. More like you hope Minho will not bother you. Chan and Felix are not menacing, like Minho.

You’re getting out of here. You ate your meal anyway, and all you have left is your assignment. Just go to the library as if nothing happened, and you can avoid Lee Minho for the rest of the day.

Packing up your things, you tell your friends that you’re leaving. “What? _____, don’t leave us here!”

“Dahyun, I feel embarrassed. I don’t want him to come here and make fun of me. He’s going to be egoistic all over again. I’ll just go to the library so nobody can ruin my day.”

As you quickly get out of the canteen and walk down the hallways, you feel a pull on your arm. “What are you doing—”

“Are you seriously playing with me right now?

Minho gets to scroll down your call history and all the messages he sent. Breathing loudly through his nose and clenching his teeth, he asks you another question, cornering you between the lockers and the wall. “Are you playing with me right now so I could look stupid?”

Unable to form a coherent answer, you try to speak whatever you can say, which is nothing. “Uh, well, you know, I really—”

His soft lips cut you off, leaving you widening your eyes for the nth time today.

“He kissed you?”

“Don’t tell me that’s real.”

You thrash around in your seat. “Let me continue!”

Still confused over the sudden turn of events, all you did was move your arms around in your place. Unfortunately, you can’t even take a step or stand tall because Minho still caged you in his arms.

His head moves to ask you near your ear, “Where is she?”

You don’t answer his question and push him off. The more you pushed him, the more he kept you in his arms. You do not know how weird this feels. He does not have any idea what personal space is. You try to complain louder; all he does is cover your mouth. You want to scream at his face, but you end up sounding muffled to him.

“Answer me, _____. And I’ll let you go,” he slowly moves his hand from your mouth.

“Do you mind telling me who’s that she first?”

Rolling his eyes, he finally steps away from you just a little. “My ex, Ara, of course. Who else would I mention?”

“I don’t know, a classmate or something? But yeah, Ara passed by earlier. She’s gone now.”

Heaven finally hearing your prayers, Minho lets go of you and steps away. You clear your throat. “Thank you. It was suffocating there in the corner.”

You thought he was going to leave you there already. You thought you could go to the library in peace after encountering the worst situation in mind. The worst of the worst came to you at this moment.

“From now on, we’re in a relationship—”

You step forward and raise your hand. “Who says we can be in a relationship?”

Minho tilts his head and smiles. “Why don’t you let me finish first before you react? We will do this to make Ara jealous and get her back. We’ll just pretend.”

This teasing asshole strikes again. You shake your head. “Why me? You could’ve picked someone better.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re the perfect fit. Remember this?” He shows you your phone in his hands. “You played me. Getting into this fake relationship is your way of paying me back.”

Minho hands you back your phone in your hands. Before leaving, he greets you with his classic smirk, making your blood boil. “See you around, love!”

“Chaeyoung, please tell me that _____ is hallucinating.”

Groaning, you shook her shoulders. “It’s real, Dahyun! He even introduced himself to my family earlier this morning already.”

Chaeyoung snickers. “This whole fake relationship sounds like torture.”

Your relationship barely started, and it’s not what you wanted. Even if some part of you liked this so you could see annoying Ara’s face, you know there will be regrets in involving yourself. Not only were students gossiping about you, but Minho’s friends also started teasing you. Felix is a sweetheart, but he had the guts to bug you about your relationship in your last class. Before you left the canteen alone, you found Jisung and Changbin asking you how your fling with Minho was, and you just pushed them away. You wanted none of this.

You take a bite of your sandwich. “Yeah, it is. I hope I get to see Ara pissed off at me so she can take Minho back, and I’ll be over with this deal.”

“Praying that Minho doesn’t treat you like shit, as usual. Maybe a teeny-tiny nicer than he normally is with you,” Dahyun steals the sandwich in your hands and takes a bite. “He is your boyfriend, after all. He must treat you well.”

“You have a distorted view of a couple. This relationship is not a one-sided thing. I, unfortunately, have to be friendly with Minho too, which is irritating.” You get your sandwich back, take a bite, and return it to Dahyun. “It’s all yours.”

You’ll have your next class in less than 30 minutes. Coming to class last minute is stressful sometimes, considering that you’ll do not know how long you can arrive at your classroom. There will be a crowd of students in the halls, especially when classes start again, like what will happen later.

“I’ll go now. The building’s two blocks from here,” you grab your bag and recheck your two friends. “I’ll be fine with him, don’t worry! Don’t give me those sad faces!” You pat both of their heads and push back your chair to the table. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to that.”

Walking past many people in the hallways, you felt more space around you as… Minho’s friends surrounded you? Your first few days with him were not like this.

“What are you guys doing here? Aren’t some of you supposed to be in the other building?” You looked around, seeing all of them walking near you.

Chan was the first to speak. “Honestly, we have no place to speak about this, _____.”

The one and only Lee Minho greeted you, who walked quickly to your side. “From now on, you’re not going to class alone.”

Not sure if he was joking, but you spoke your mind. “I can do this on my own, and I don’t need you guys joining me here.”

Before you argue more about it, Minho hands you a t-shirt. “Wear this.”

You look at your outfit for the day. “Does this shirt look that bad to you?”

Minho doesn’t answer your question, so you bombard him with more questions to get him on his nerves and say something. “Don’t I look nice? Isn’t this decent enough for me to stand beside you? Does this not fit your standards?”

Minho presses his lips and asks. “Do you want me to put that shirt on you?”

His friends around you stopped and let out some oohs. You sighed. You knew this was a bad idea.

“Change,” Minho moves his head toward the comfort room, “I’ll be waiting.”

You came out with a t-shirt with a large heart in the center. It has additional details like stitches, making the heart look like it was sewn. This shirt, in particular, is not your style, but this would suffice. “Do I look better now?”

Minho takes off his sweater and reveals a matching shirt. Oh, so that’s what he’s aiming for today. Couple t-shirts, cute, I guess? Impressed enough, you smiled at him. He smiles and gives you his hand, silently asking you to hold it with yours.

Walking around, hands tied still, with his friends, you saw Ara and her friend walking towards you. Now, this made more sense. The couple t-shirts were your first stunt to make Ara jealous.

“Didn’t work, Minho. It looks like Ara’s not affected by it,” you hear Seungmin behind you.

“That’s fine. It’s still the first,” Minho stops, leaving the rest of the group to stop. “I’ll leave it here. I’ll take them somewhere. You guys can do your own thing now.”

“Good luck, bro,” Jisung says, offering Minho a fistbump. He looks at you and whispers, “You can do it. He’s tolerable enough without us too.”

“I heard that!” Minho attempts to pinch Jisung. Hearing a loud screech from Jisung, you step away from the small scene. Jisung was pulled by Changbin, dragging him away from both of you.

Once Jisung is out of the picture, Minho faces you. He doesn’t have any idea where to take you since he only thought of the couple t-shirts to show it off to his ex. A part of him feels bad about dragging you into this short stunt.

“I know where to take you.”

In the sports building, obviously. You both bought some taho on the way, though. More like, Minho paid for both of your taho, which was surprising.

“You know how to play table tennis?” He asks as he drags you to a room.

“Nope, I hope you wouldn’t judge,” you tell him, trying to grip the paddle properly.

Minho was going to comment about it, but he stopped himself right away and understood you. “All good. That’s fine with me. I can teach you.”

It felt like your eyes were sparkling out of wonder. You immediately look at Minho and ask, “Really? You’re willing to?”

He genuinely smiles at you and answers, “Yeah, I’m willing. No worries, I think you’ll get the hang of this right away.”

“Which is easier, table tennis or volleyball?” You hand him the paddle in your hand. “You’re pretty good with anything at this point.”

Minho felt his body tense on the spot. That was the first time you said something nice to him. He’s used to bickering with you. Were you serious about this too? It seemed like you were being nice to him for real this time.

He knows you’re a good person. This whole enemy and competitor thing happened between you, resulting in you excluding him from your people-to-be-nice-with list. He has seen you with other people, and you’re usually like how you behaved just a while ago.

He’s glad enough that you could let your guard down around him for once. Maybe he’ll treasure this even if it was too early. He knows you’ll be back to arguing soon.

“Uh, it depends, really. I’m more used to volleyball, though. I just play table tennis for fun since I hang around here in the sports building quite a lot,” he awkwardly gets the paddle from your hand. With a scratch on his head, he reminds himself of his manners. “Thanks, though. I’m not an expert at everything. I just like trying out new things.”

“We must be the same, then!” You hold the ball, playing it with your hand. “You know, I grew up people saying I’m smart at everything,” you look at him.

Minho agrees. He notices that you’re brilliant about a lot of things. You’re a dean’s lister like him. Sometimes, he thinks you’re one of the best out there. He just doesn’t confess about that. “You in computer science say a lot about that. You’re intelligent.”

You laugh, memories flooding back in your head when you hear Minho mention your degree. “Did you know how stupid I felt when I failed my first programming course? Maybe I blame my professor for that. But when I discovered I got a failing grade, I asked myself for days if computer science was for me.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “As expected, I had to take it the next semester, and there we go! I did very well! I passed, and I enjoyed programming. And yeah, I got the same score as you on our machine project in discrete mathematics.” You hand him the ball. You felt a little better that you brought that out now. Your friends never understood how hard it was for you since they’re not in the same degree as you.

“I realized I’ll do great if I have to work my ass off twice as much as I usually do. It sucks, but it’s fulfilling to know that I’m doing fine.” You look at Minho. “I’m still surprised that I’m still a part of the dean’s list. The last time I heard, I almost slipped off the list.”

“I’m not good at consoling, _____, but I know you’re doing great, whether you fail, pass, or get on the list.” You hear Minho mutter your name, “I know it was hard for you. You said all of it. But I hope you don’t use it to bring yourself down.”

Minho gently places the paddle on the table and gets the ball from your palm. He faces you, leaning on his side on the table. “You’re outstanding. Don’t think that you’re not that good compared to me. I also went through a lot to get into that volleyball team. All of us really have to deal with rough shit before getting up there.”

You chuckle. “You’re right, sorry. I made it sound like it’s all about me—”

“No worries, I totally get you anyway,” he pats your back and smirks. “I know it feels nice to dump your problems sometimes.”

Gasping, you lightly push him. You get to hear his laugh. “I did not intend to dump all of it, Lee! I said I’m sorry already!”

You see Minho change his behavior, returning to his usual, insufferable self. He blinks multiple times, fixes his shirt, gets the paddle again, and playfully waves it on your face. “Shall we?”

You nod. Minho nods back and walks to your back. He gets your hand from behind and helps you grip the paddle properly. “You can hold the paddle like that. Don’t hold it like you’re going to murder somebody.”

“Does it look like I can murder you with this paddle, Minho?” You look at him, raising your eyebrows.

He grips your hand tightly, making you groan. “Yes, I know you can, which is why I’m teaching you the right way how to hold it.”

Minho’s aware of the presence of Ara in the room. It was why his demeanor changed right away. “She’s there again, by the way. Let’s look decent for a bit.”

“Yes, sir, on it.” You look at your hand with the paddle. It feels weird because it’s your first time playing this sport. Minho lets go of you confusingly and walks away.

Minho returns to your side with the other paddle and a ball. As Minho explains how to serve the ball, you focus on Ara. You hope that she’ll see this whole thing.

“Are you even listening?”

You look back at him, his face filled with annoyance, “Yes—well, no. Ara saw us!” You see Ara and her friends leaving suddenly, “And now, she’s gone. Why is she leaving right away every time we're together?”

He sighs. “She might’ve seen how dramatic you are every time you’re with me. It’s great.”

Before you get to defend yourself, you see Minho leaving you as well. “Dang, Minho’s right. It must be a me problem.” You get your things and chase Minho. “Don’t leave me, Lee! What the hell? You brought me here, and you’re just going to get out of here on your own?”

You tried to find Minho, but he’s really gone. Slowly walking through the tiny sidewalk, you attempt to see if Minho’s still nearby. And as expected, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Mindlessly walking, you plug in your earphones and listen to music on your way home. The music was a great way to make your life less boring. Your life has been full of adventures; the music made it more entertaining. Who knew getting a fake boyfriend was a part of your story, anyway? It could’ve been more. You get to enjoy your non-curricular activities, like being in organizations. Unfortunately, you temporarily abandoned your book club for this relationship. You could’ve recommended books to first-year students! You could’ve exchanged books with your friends and read them overnight!

You move the papers and folders under your arm to check the time on your phone, 7:05 PM. Great, you’ll have less time to review for your exams later. You could’ve gotten a tricycle ride to get home quicker, but the terminal’s a few minutes from where you are. Groaning, you carelessly walk and grumble over your cravings for pancit canton—the chilimansi one, to be specific.

The louder you talked to yourself about how desperate you were to get home and get things done, the more people behind you knew what to do.

You shrieked at the sudden noise coming from your back. Everything was so fast; you didn’t know a bunch of those mean and nasty students honked their car and almost ran it over you intentionally, dropping all of your things out of shock.

Several kids shouted from the car, “Sorry!” And all of them laughed. If only they were out of the vehicle, you could’ve charged them and punched all of their faces. That would be no regret, even if you were never the type to fight people. They deserve it for being assholes.

Bending down, you try to chase for the papers, lightly flying above the road. They almost crashed a human being and drove recklessly. Why are there no police officers here?

“Didn’t those people skip GMRC or homeroom classes when they were young?”

You have no idea who that was, but you agree. That must be a stranger passing by, not caring about what happened to you. “Yeah, they probably skipped. Not surprised, though. There’ll always be people like them.”

You heard some sounds nearby while picking up all of your notes. Unexpectedly, you see a person getting your papers on the sidewalk across from you. Was this guy the one who just talked to you?

“You’re right. But that doesn’t mean you’ll let them roam around like that. Here you go.” The person hands you the rest of the papers you couldn’t catch earlier. After thanking him. He introduces himself to you, “I’m Hyunjin.”

You have never heard his name yet. You’re acquainted with many students because of connections, but you probably haven’t met this one. It’s not wrong to meet a new person. Meeting a new friend after an unexpected accident like this was funny enough to think that you must be friends with Hyunjin. “Hey, Hyunjin. I’m _____. Nice to meet you in this way,” you chuckled.

He’s a transferee, perhaps?

He grins, “Oh, no worries. I have nothing to do, and I’m also on my way home, anyway. Is your place nearby?”

When Hyunjin saw your mouth fall open and rock your feet in place, he knew you still had a long way to go. “Want to grab some dinner first? Let’s eat pares, my treat.”

None of you know that those students who sped past you were watching nearby. Unfortunately, they have a plan against you.

Are you really up for volleyball class this early? No.

This sport shouldn’t sound complicated since you’ve played this before in high school. Frankly, you’re not the worst player out there. You could be very useful for an actual volleyball team, according to several varsity team members who were your classmates.

Have you told your boyfriend who excels in this specific sport? No.

You’re nothing compared to him in volleyball, you just know. If you mention this to him, he might ask you to play with him on the spot, and you know it’ll end up in the loser treating the winner. That’s how he competes with his teammates in training, according to Felix. You don’t want to go home physically exhausted and suffering financially.

Well, you’re a little rusty in volleyball since it has been years since you properly played this. So, you might need extra warm-ups and practices for this friend.

Setting the ball for a few rounds now, you wouldn’t say you’re that bad for starters. You’re underestimating yourself. This progress is pretty good for someone who’s a newbie or needs a refresher. Okay, maybe, you can brag about this to Minho a little bit.

It was fun and all, until someone threw the ball in a different direction—directly on your head. Why is existing more challenging now when you got Minho with you? Peace is non-existent in your fate.

“How ambitious of you!”

Automatically falling into a face of confusion, your search for the voice leads to a familiar face—that girl in the car a few nights ago.

Let’s be honest. Self-defense is your biggest weakness. You never taught yourself to fight for yourself in situations as immediately intense as this, since you always want no harm. If this was a verbal argument, maybe you still had the guts to fight back. But this involves physical damage.

Before you get to fend for yourself, the girl and the rest of the group throw all the volleyballs at you, leaving you a pained mess on the floor. This is you against a group. You immediately knew you’d lose in this battle. Not only were you thrown with actual objects, but they also threw unnecessary words at you.

“You’re such a gold digger!”

“You’re from nowhere! How did you get them?”

“Two-timer, are we getting a little flirty?”

When you knew this was about Minho and Hyunjin (who should be innocent in this case), you had to get out of here. You’re assuming their next move will harass you with their own hands based on how they move. Groaning, you get up and grab your bags from the bleachers.

One of them shouts, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You look behind and see the girl chase you until you leave the building. She stops before heading back inside. “Wake up, _____! You and Minho are not compatible!”

Same place, same people. The same road where nothing was by your side. The same street where you were so helpless. All you wanted was the life you had a week ago. How did you get into this torturous cycle of people getting jealous of bagging one of the biggest stars of the university?

That was pure evil. Why are they this mean towards you? Maybe all you want is to go back to your dorm, sulk and cry with some ice cream. Hopefully, the world will be better one tear at a time.

Another honking sound surprised you, reminding you of last night's turn of events. Irritated by the sound, you asked nobody and continued walking, “Why do drivers like to surprise people with that?”

The car behind you stops. “And that’s because I’m here to really surprise you with—wait, _____, are you crying?”

Minho gets out of the car and chases you to greet you with a hug. “What happened?”

Melting into his embrace, you hummed on his chest, sobbing more than before. This is officially your first time breaking down in front of him, and it’s all because of him. “Nothing really. Can you just take me to my dorm and—”

Minho smoothly rubs your back, “Don’t hide it from me. I know this is all pretend, but don’t be afraid to share it with me if you like. I’m all ears, _____.”

That might’ve made you cry even more. Why is he so nice again? You know he’ll switch back to his usual self later on. Are you falling for this trap? Are you sure he is genuinely willing to listen to your rant about jealous students? Will that be a sensible conversation with him?

“It will sound so petty, Minho. This is nothing I’m telling you—”

He gently holds your head, ensuring you keep eye contact with him. “_____, let’s be serious here. Is it petty if you’re a crying mess like this?”

Shaking your head, you mumble no multiple times, bringing you back to tears. Minho brings you back to his arms, crossing them around you in the right fit, not too tight and not too loose. His scent was so comforting—lavender and baby powder. He smelled so pure and clean. “Do you still want to return to your dorm?” He asked you softly, hearing a small yes as an answer.

What are you doing to him? Barely two weeks into this fake relationship, and he’s willing enough to soften his heart already. He will stick with you, making sure that you did the stunts, and you got to treat each other as actual significant others. But wasn’t he like this with Ara, too? Didn’t he open up to her right away? Maybe he’ll just see what’s going to happen next. Give you both a few more weeks before facing the growing tingling feeling on his chest. You’re not that bad after all; indeed, you’re better than you seem. He’s up with making you his actual friend. He’s aware that he’s guarding his heart sometimes, knowing he grows attachments immediately. Maybe after a few more stunts, he’ll get Ara back and get to know you more.

Minho reaches for your hand on the side, pulling you to the car. “I should’ve stayed by your side on our last visit to the sports building. I’m really sorry.”

He didn’t break his promise of staying by your side until that night. Maybe it was because of the feeling that he couldn’t do the stunt with you properly, or he wasn’t in the right mind. When he left you in the sports building, he thought you were behind him all this time until when he got into his car. He even tried to find you in the building, going through the floor by floor, until you messaged you were back in your dorm already, stomach full. Out of pure concern, he was relieved that you were safe. He knows that both his and your parents will kill him if he loses you.

And now, he arrived slightly late. He could’ve prevented the still-unknown problem that left you gripping his shirt tightly and sobbing heavily on his shoulder. Better late than never, he thought. He knows how to deal with this. He lost Ara somewhere when they were together. Ara’s phone was dead, and Minho searched for her from night until the day. In the end, he got scolded by Ara’s father in front of their house. He doesn’t want that to happen to anybody again, and he hated he left someone—you—after that.

“It’s fine, Minho. You don’t have to apologize. I should have protected myself,” you told him, getting into the passenger seat of his car and buckling your seatbelt.

After Minho got into the car again and started the engine, he curiously asked, “What happened there? Who are they to make you cry a river like that?”

“Why did you cry?” Minho glances at you, steering the car. “I just want to know so I can help you somehow. I don’t want to see your puffy face cry that much.”

Sighing, you lean back in your seat. Do you really have to tell Minho now? You’d rather keep this one. You don’t want him teasing you all over again. “You have to ask me right now?”

“Yeah, well, if it’s fine with you,” he eyes the car's rear mirror, “because if you’re not ready to tell me, I can wait.”

You thank the heavens that he has patience within him. Maybe you can do it once you’re back in your dorm? Saying it here and now might be a little overwhelming, for you are still recovering from whatever happened earlier. If you recall all of it, you might burst into tears just to explain it to Minho for the nth time.

When you arrive at your building, you bring Minho to your dorm room when you come to your building. No one’s in your place. Yeji probably hung out with some of her friends today. “Home, sweet home, I guess?”

On the left, a kitchen countertop matches the color of the walls, white. The bathroom’s already on the right, with a door open, displaying the simple sink and mirror. And further back to the dorm are your beds and study spaces. The room isn’t that cramped for everything you need, luckily. Your beds were on one side, and your tables and shelves were across them.

The first thing you did after closing the door was drop your lumpiang togue on your table. Minho was compassionate enough once again to treat you to some food.

He scans the whole market for anything you can eat quickly. Glancing at you, he asks, “You like lumpiang togue?”

Did he just read your mind? How did he know your love for lumpiang togue?

“Yeah, I like them,” you softly answer, fiddling the sleeves of your white t-shirt, which you wore earlier this morning for volleyball class. You haven’t changed your attire, also still wearing your rubber shoes and navy jogging pants.

Minho sighs. “Great, that’s what I can afford for now. I left the rest of my money in my place.” He finds some bills in his pockets. He was planning to take you to his dorm since Seungmin visited his family. But the whole you-crying-on-the-streets happened, so he had a change of plan, making you feel better. Seriously, it’s not his strength, but he’s willing to try.

You hold his wrist, stopping him from reaching for any money, “I can pay. I have some money with me.” Minho stiffens, and you try to get your wallet from your backpack, mumbling, “You probably brought anything barely to buy here. I’ll just take it from here.”

He was persistent in treating you today. He had to do it. He wanted to do it. Shaking his head, he’s now the one who’ll reach for your wrist. “No, _____. I’ll pay. You can keep your money.”

Looking at his face, you feel hesitant to let this slide. You think it’s because of the lack of money in his pockets, and he’s really trying hard to be the perfect (fake) boyfriend he is. But the problem is that you only hear some clinking sound from his pockets, implying that he probably has mostly coins. And he might just fight you back if you don’t surrender. Maybe he’s really striving to treat you again.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, sure, go on. If you really want to, then. I’ll just do it the next time we eat outside.”

Perhaps Minho only heard the last few words. I’ll just do it the next time we eat outside. Are you implying that you guys will go out again for food? With this setup you have, Minho was not sure if there’ll be a next time for everything. It’s unclear to assume how long you will continue this. Even if it has been a week, Ara could take him back tomorrow or the other day.

This could be the last time you can eat together. Why did he feel a little heartbroken over this thought? Is it because he got to see more of your softer side? Is it because of this little friendship you were progressively growing that is still as small as a seed? Maybe he wasn’t ready to go back to the usual bickering both of you do. He genuinely enjoyed your fun and calmer side. In the first few days, you got to go around the campus hand in hand. It was initially awkward. Both of your hands were sweating. But he enjoyed your presence, regardless. You got to treat each other decently in classes, picking each other immediately as partners in some projects. Why is he overthinking about you too many times now? He’ll miss this. It’s been a week, and he might’ve not regretted picking you. It could’ve been worse if he had got someone senselessly crazy over him.

On your side, though, you’re taking this whole fake relationship lightly. Yes, you got to see an angelic Minho with a halo on his head rather than those red horns. You’ve seen his side of being intelligent and humble. From your time together working on some papers, you’ve seen how hardworking he is. Well, he is hardworking, but his tremendous pride overshadows it. Working with him wasn’t so bad. If you ever get to pick a partner after this fake relationship, you might genuinely pick him over some of your friends. You appreciated his taste on the first few dates you had. He wasn’t the fancy type, even if he looked like a person who thought highly of himself. Your time in the park wasn’t so bad. You enjoyed the messy conversation with some ice cream. You also enjoyed your time in the mall. He was the type to window shop than splurge. You were going to tease him about being broke, but he was letting his guard down for a few minutes, so you appreciated the small moment of peace between the two of you.

Nodding, he steps forward to buy on the stall in front of you.

Leaning your back on the table beside him, you ask, “Have anything to say about my place?” Deep inside, you know he will lightly tease you about your dorm. It’s been looking too dull, considering the only prominent color: white. You could visit some of your friend’s places, and their homes and rooms were full of color. You got to see Dahyun’s place, and her room’s walls painted a beautiful shade of sky blue. Chaeyoung’s dorm has an incredible combination of brown and black, giving her space a vintage vibe that suits her style. Some of your other classmates’ rooms had rooms in bright colors like pink, violet, or dandelion, which you admit are very pleasing colors. “Does it look too boring? I was trying to convince Yeji to change this whole place again. White’s not clicking with me anymore.”

Minho looked around once again. He displays an unreadable expression, which makes you feel uncertain. “I guess it is boring. I knew it.” Minho waves his hands. “No! I actually like it. It feels very peaceful,” he sighs. “I think it shows a lot about who you are.”

“So you’re telling me I’m boring?”

Groaning, he explains to you once again. “It’s a nice color for a dorm. It’s not boring. You’re very pure and sincere, like the color white. Even if we spat the most unnecessary words at each other, you’re pretty honest and genuine in what you say. I don’t mean this badly, but you’re sensitive. Sensitive in a way that you easily pull yourself into emotions, you feel quite a lot, from what I noticed. You’re not that numb, and I like it. White’s not that blank in my own eyes.”

That was… wonderful. Minho got a point once again. He’s not like you, who quickly rambles a lot. He makes sure he says everything with his actual intentions straightforwardly. You liked how he mentioned your bickering; it made you laugh for the first time in a while. It was nice to hear that from Minho for another time. “Thanks, maybe the color’s not so bad after all. I appreciate the words.”

“You’re getting shy, aren’t you?” You pulled out your handkerchief from your pocket and tossed it to his face. “Shut up! I don’t get those kinds of words a lot. Being sensitive is a bad thing for some, but I appreciate how you made it sound nice—something in your voice that told me in my head that it’s alright to feel things with so much impact,” you grin, “so, don’t be surprised that I’ll cry over something again in the next few days. We still have the articulation paper! We should get it done! I’ll cry for real if we procrastinate it!”

Minho laughs. “Want to start it tomorrow? After my training in the morning?” It took you a few seconds to answer him because… he laughed! That was a very genuine laugh, and it sounded so lovely. It suits him so much. If only you heard that every day, that’d be better than the fuss both of you make every time. When he scratches his head nervously, you answer, “I’m not that busy for the next few days, so I’m up for that! Maybe I can take you out for coffee if you’re into that?”

You have no idea how Minho loved the word coffee. He drinks coffee every day, almost like his water, so he might’ve been the happiest person ever when he heard that you’d treat his coffee. “I am in love with coffee, so you don’t have to ask, _____,” he smiles. “Great, now that we’ll have coffee tomorrow, I’m sure we’ll finish our paper just fine. Trust me.”

The next few days with Minho were relaxing, much to your surprise. You joined each other’s agendas, including Minho’s training sessions for the incoming volleyball championships. You opened up to him about what happened to you in the sports building, resulting in him getting outrageous on the spur of the moment.

Minho tries to ask calmly after taking a sip of his beloved coffee, “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” He knew you wanted to recover from what happened emotionally, but he didn’t think you had to recover from that, right?

“I wanted to forget about it for a while, Minho. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my time feeling miserable because of your fans crossing the line,” you answer, taking a bite of Minho’s cheesecake.

Before getting another bite, Minho reaches for your hand, removing the fork. He points the utensil at you, “_____, you just said they crossed the line. Don’t you think you should’ve told me right away still, and we could’ve done something about it?”

“I’m too nice to report it to the office, Minho,” your other hand reaches for his. “I know it’s a problem, but I’m seriously going to let this go. I know I cried over it, but this is not the worst thing I cried over. Maybe knocking some sense to themselves will make them more realistic that you’re not going to pick them.”

Snorting, he laughs and leans back in his seat. “Did you think I’m going to pick them over you?” He was misinterpreting it! You didn’t mean it that way. “Hey! You wouldn’t pick them in general because of how they acted, right? They were violent. Do you want a significant other like that?”

You pulled your hands away from him and stood from your seat. “You—” He cuts you off by holding your hands again, rushing over to the seat beside you, and gently pushing you back on your chair. “Get off of me! You’re twisting my words again!” All he did in response was laugh and hold you loosely. At least he didn’t grip your hands that tight.

“I get you. I get you. Don’t worry! I’m teasing you with good intentions!” He continues to laugh and move his things near you, returning to your side. “Sorry, really, but I understood what you meant. I would rather not have somebody who attacks people with volleyballs.”

Speaking of volleyballs, he remembered one of the things you said while you recalled the whole incident to him. “You said you were setting the volleyball? Didn’t you guys just start learning volleyball? How could you set the ball on your own properly without anybody monitoring? You could’ve squished your head with the volleyball—”

You shushed him, whispering a secret you thought you’d keep from him. “I know how volleyball works, okay? Unlike my other classmates who had no idea how to receive a volleyball, I’ve done it before. But it doesn’t mean I am a professional at it!”

He’d seen you stick your face with books and papers. But you… as an athlete? That’s something new. He never saw you as a type to engage with sports. “And you said I was good at many things, huh? You can also play volleyball! Why don’t you try out for the team too? I know you’ll do great there too!”

Slumping on your seat, you shudder. Minho’s convincing you with something good now, and it doesn’t fit your plans well. “Never saw myself dedicating my life to sports. Even if I say I’m not that bad, I don’t have any plan to spend a lot of time training.”

“I bet you can serve the ball very well like me. Your hand’s so heavy every time you push my head away—okay, I’ll stop!” Minho playfully glares at you. You did push his head away again. Laughing, you tell him, “Stop being so cocky, MVP! We all know you’re good with the sport!” Minho gasps, placing his hand on his chest. “Is _____ really acknowledging my skill in volleyball? That’s such an honor!” He repeatedly bows to you, “Thank you very much, _____. I value your kind words!”

Chuckling, you stop him from bowing, holding onto his built body, “Yeah, whatever, Lee. I just watched you train earlier this morning. You were pretty good.”

And now, you’re back to where it all began, the sports building. You’re facing the same people who had the guts to hurt you. The news of this group expressing their jealousy through volleyballs didn’t go well for Minho’s friends. They had them kneeling on the ground. A crowd surrounded you, implying that many knew about what happened.

Minho is beside you, snaking his arm around yours. “Do you have anything to say to _____?”

Minho and his friends set this whole thing up? Did they plan this right after you told him what happened?

“None of you are answering,” Changbin shouts, “Say something!” Jisung joins, playing with a volleyball in his hand and giving another to Changbin, “Quickly! Say sorry!”

Oh, these guys are taking it seriously. You did not know this duo could be louder than they could have ever been, and it scares you a little. They’ve been happy and fun most of the time. Their faces scream terror.

The group mumbled sorry a few times, making Minho puzzled at how quiet and short they apologized. “Doesn’t sound sincere to me, right, boys?” His friends agreed, telling the kneeled they should apologize genuinely.

Changbin and Jisung handed the volleyballs to Minho and passed them to you. “Nobody should hurt the person I love.”

Some of the boys, specifically Chan, Felix, and Jeongin, squealed loudly, getting the attention of Ara nearby. Ara, unfortunately, heard all of it since all the boys’ voices were echoing in the room. She steps into the crowd and watches the whole scene. You, on the other hand, tried to control your feelings. If Minho said that on a typical day, you’d push his head away like you always do. He said this in front of people, many people. You can’t screw the stunt up.

“Hit them on the face, _____!”

“Go _____!”

And they were all chanting your name. Did you want revenge? No. Do you feel these people should learn their lesson by publicly embarrassing them? No. Do they deserve to get harmed the same way as you did? No. You were truly too nice to treat them like this. Even if you were like royalty to Minho and his friends, you’d rather stay back and let things flow like how they’re supposed to. It already happened, and you’d rather keep things that way. You’re sure you don’t want them to go home with bruises. Shaming them wasn’t the way to go for you.

The group assumed you would hit them, so they covered their heads with their arms and whimpered. Minho’s friends still chanted your name to support the payback until you dropped the volleyballs from your hands. Smiling, you didn’t give in and got out of the room by pulling Minho away to the entrance of the building. Minho holds your hand after closing the door for you.

He stops you from walking down the building’s steps. “You really are too nice for this, _____. I wanted to do something in return for what happened to you.”

Lightly removing his hand from your arms, you roll your eyes. “You mean to bring them back there with volleyballs again for vengeance? Of course not, Minho. It’s so wrong to hit them.” Proceeding with your short trip to his car, Minho follows you behind, not noticing your rolling eyes. “Yeah, keep that bad boy facade. That doesn’t work for me. We’re in a relationship in this deal. If I’m not tolerating violence, then so are you. Let them go, yeah?”

You completely forgot that Minho has the intimidating side that everybody fears. Nobody knows about it except those who’ve seen him retaliate. With those large hands and muscled arms, you knew he could throw a big punch. You’ve seen it. And you know he’s willing to do it if he needs it. Frankly, his throwing punches might be a little attractive to you—whoops.

“Yes, I’ll stop! I’ll stop for you!” Minho raises both arms to his sides, giving in to your request. He knows you mean well, and maybe he needs a little of a change. For the past few days, he hasn’t told you about this yet, but he felt guilty over his teasing of you and all the little competition he started between you two. He began to truly appreciate you, acknowledging that he now considers you his friend, not this weird enemy-slash-competitor like you were before. When his friends asked about you, he was comfortable enough to mention you without cringing by simply thinking about you as he did back then. Minho cared for your thoughts and feelings, only occasionally inserting the teasing when he felt he needed it, which is still all the time, minus the intention of making you push his head away. He doesn’t want to get headaches anymore.

You stay still, the tips of your fingers on his car’s door handle. Will Minho truly stop for you? Well, he has been honest with you for the whole time in this deal. Maybe he felt how uncertain you were about what you could’ve done to the group earlier? If yes, thank the heavens he did; you seriously didn’t want to hurt anybody. “Alright, then. Let’s just go somewhere else.”

“How about the seaside near the mall in the other city?” You blinked after he delicately pulled your hand once again from the door handle. All the touches that happened ruined you, making you feel butterflies every time. The hand-holding, too, was making you flustered every time now. Is it because you brought down the walls against each other now? Were you getting too comfortable about his affections? He might’ve done this to others without making them flustered.

Minho rose his brows at how unresponsive you were to his touch. He assumed you didn’t get that much sleep before fetching you earlier this morning. After all, you volunteered to proofread your paper before emailing it to your professor. Both of you were on a video call the whole night. Minho was sweet enough to watch you proofread the articulation paper as impressive as you two made. Waving his hand in front of your face, he expressed his confusion about your lack of action. “You good? Did you get to sleep well last night? You were staring at the ground.”

Shaking your head, you answer him right after you get out of your trance. “Yes, I’m fine. Yeah, maybe. I still got the sleep, but it wasn’t the best, to be honest.” You finally got into the car after Minho opened the door for you.

You yell through the window as Minho goes to the driver’s seat. “The seaside’s an excellent choice, by the way!” Minho smiles, satisfied with the idea he just made. He thought of taking you there for some fresh air after a lot of stress and work over the last few days. Dedicatedly working with you day and night made Minho realize how far you’re willing to go just to pass. No, you’re not doing everything just to pass; you wholeheartedly wanted to excel, and that’s what he liked about you. He remembers how you will not let his outline for the paper slide.

“Minho, we have to make this paper detailed. Based on your outline, our paper’s going to be vague. We wouldn’t be able to dig deep into our topic.” You underlined some parts in the outline he attempted to create. “If we have the chance to explain further, then take it. Let’s not take this lightly. The paper is a part of our major requirements for the class.”

Minho didn’t care about this class much since his degree’s technicalities weren’t there. There was no math and programming, so he cared little about his work. Not until you became his partner for this paper. Did he guess he’ll take this more seriously now that you’re with him?

He mumbled under his breath. “Felix wasn’t kidding when you take every requirement seriously.” You glance up at him, raising your eyebrow. “Felix told you? We were group mates in another class.”

Nodding, he peeks at the pad of paper you were writing on. He meekly answers, “Felix told me you were the leader, and he thought the position fits you. He told me you were ‘artistic’-ish since you always have many ideas in your head.”

“Seems like Felix dropped many things about me to you.” You chuckle. “Was that why you knew much about me before we got into this fake relationship?”

Since Felix is a good friend, you didn’t expect him to talk about you to Minho. Although, you didn’t expect that he’ll get into detail like that since both of you bond together during classes only. “You got to use them against me.” You mumbled, playfully rolling your eyes. “Thanks for all of the teasing, by the way. I still remember how you embarrassed me about how I messed up my report to my prof last year.”

Minho was going to apologize already since it was the right timing, but you cut him off showing what you wrote on his face. Not the right timing. “Here! I made the outline you made more specific! What do you think? Do you think our paper could be good with this flow?” He grabbed the paper and distanced it from him a little, squinting his eyes.

The outline you made was jaw-dropping for him. He was astounded by how comprehensive your outline was. He wasn’t in the right mind to create a good articulation paper right now with this hell of a topic, so it amazed him how you could plan the critical points necessary for the paper. “You do not know how good this is, _____. This is great!”

In Minho’s head, he declares that you’re one of the most intelligent group mates he has ever encountered. And he found you interesting at that moment—how was your mind this brilliant? Papers like this take him days. It’s not his field of interest, so it consumes a lot of his time. “I don’t even do outlines. This one’s thorough and very impressive. You even pointed out things here that I never thought of!” He uses his ballpen to show them to you, laughing out of wonder. “This is not even the paper, yet you’re surprising me for real.”

“Great! We’ll be on the road for a long time, so buckle up! We’re going to have a nice time!” Minho bashfully grins. That was so adorable. You cannot help but poke his cheek for that. There was something about the glint in his eyes and the bottomless energy spewing out of him. This is a different Minho, a very joyful one, to be exact. When you notice Minho’s ears turn red, you giggle, reaching for his cheek again to pinch. “Your ears are so red! So adorable!”

Minho scratches his head and moves it away, you out of his sight. His hand climbs up to his face, feeling the heat on his face. Smiling, he tries to keep the tension down. “Shut up. I’m just a little excited.” Laughing, you lightly push his shoulder. “And it’s adorable, Minho. I don’t see you get excited quite a lot.”

Grumbling, he pushes your head away, similar to what you usually do to him. With shouts of protest coming from your mouth, he shouts back nonsense to tease your way of resisting. “Why don’t you take a nap first, _____? We have around an hour to go before we arrive at the seaside. If traffic persists, maybe another hour stuck on the road.”

You surrender by slumping your shoulders. “That wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.” Minho smirks and slowly pushes your head to the window. “You spent the whole night worrying about our paper. Take a nap, please. Take this as a little favor from me.” Minho waves his hand up and down as a sign to close your eyes. You whine. “I’m doing a favor right now. Ask me one at a time,” you move around on your seat, getting comfortable, “but I might take that little one. I’ll sleep for a bit.”

He waits for you to settle down and close your eyes before turning the engine on and starting the trip. When he hears your tiny snores, he unknowingly pats your head, letting out a satisfied sigh from his lips. Minho’s absolutely glad that you gave yourself time to rest. You're unstoppable—he learned something new about your work ethic over the past few days. While working on your paper and other requirements, Minho saw you sit endlessly, writing, typing, reading, and doing everything you could have done to complete the demands. Including no sleep, you barely let your eyes close completely like you always do until Minho ensures you get enough rest. Minho couldn’t believe that you were still so lively despite your normality of barely sleeping. Pretty much like Chan, he thinks. He thought only Chan was capable of doing that.

He takes this as an exchange for your acceptance of this deal he made with you. He thought that helping you in your routine while staying by his side to have you as his boyfriend was a great way to get the chemistry needed for a couple and that heart of yours (to be your friend, obviously). And so far, his plan is working. You’ve been getting comfortable with him, and he’s happy to see you no longer see him as this horrendous human being who’ll ruin your week every time. Plus, his group chat with his friends is flooding his notifications that Ara saw the occasion earlier in the sports building.

jisung: seungmin said ara was staring at both of you earlier!

jisung: it should be working!!!!

felix: i got to see it! she has the usual sad face lol

chan: are you sure you saw her face…?

changbin: you were too busy squealing over minho and _____

felix: JHSFDADJ STOP YOU TWO???

seungmin: LMAOOO felix, you probably forgot that they’re not a real couple, right?

felix: WELL, they *are* a real couple right now so…

felix: and they’re getting along very well!!! have you seen them the other day?

chan: oh, when you guys were talking about the next machine project?

felix: YEAH, the three of us were initially discussing it until they argued what type of loops they were going to use in the program lol

seungmin: so that’s how you define “they’re getting along very well” then?

minho: for the record, it was a peaceful argument, kim seungmin.

seungmin: oh HE’S ALIVE

minho: and we’re not cheating btw, i know talking about the project to others is not allowed lmao we’re just talking about which loop truly fits the mechanics

minho: _____ kept on pushing the exit-controlled loop, but i pointed them out the program should check the conditions first before starting the loop

seungmin: and i barely understand what he’s talking about again

minho: turns out, i misinterpreted the mechanics, and their point really made sense

seungmin: thanks for the tmi bro

felix: WAIT REALLY? i used an entry-controlled loop all this time :’>

felix: so i have to change tons of things in the source code then… DAMMIT

chan: hi minho, where did _____ take you?

minho: we’re leaving

minho: taking them somewhere

minho: and i’m not going to tell any of you where we’re going because i’m going to drive already

minho: goodbye!

jeongin: I JUST CAME BACK FROM MY CLASS

jeongin: MINHO DON’T LEAVE US HANGING HERE

changbin: minho be gatekeeping _____ now what is this

jisung: can anybody run and follow minho’s car?

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star-lemonade · 2 years

Text

I Will Spoil You

Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Cw: suggestive, marking, hickeys

Rating: T ?

Word count: 0.8 k

Summary: Chan is in that kind of mood (He wants to be marked ;) )

Stray Kids Masterlist

"Puh, that was really good. Thanks for cooking, babe."

Chan rubbed his belly and sank back into his chair on the other side of the dining table. It was Friday evening and your workaholic boyfriend had managed to get off work early to eat dinner with you at your apartment. He had been working more than usual in the past weeks and even though he smiled, you could see the lines on his face a bit deeper than usual. The stress was getting to him and he did not even see it coming, but you knew. He needed a break and that was exactly why you had asked him here.

"You’re welcome, Channie," you said and took his plate. Chan had been in the middle of a stretch but froze at the pet name. A smile pulled the corners of your mouth but you forced it down, pretending that you had not noticed what you had said; how it sounded.

"I will do that."

He grabbed the plates but you did not let go.

"No, you stay here."

"Why? I just want to help."

"Because I really want to spoil you today."

Chan swallowed and let you take the plates and cutlery to the kitchen. He knew now what he would get tonight. When you returned he gave you a look from under his lashes and said:

"Man, couldn’t you have said that earlier? Then I wouldn’t have eaten so much."

"Oh, don’t worry you will not be moving much tonight. Now, why don’t you wash up while I do the dishes?"

Chan had decided that the wash-up was a whole shower and when you entered the bedroom he was wearing his t-shirt, a zip-up hoodie, and some black sweatpants. His hair was a mess of wet curls that he had not properly dried in the hurry to finish before you came to the room. Your hand was running through his dark hair and you loved how it curled around your fingers.

"You’re so pretty today, my love."

In his head, Chan never thought that he was good-looking but he did not object now. When you pushed the hoodie off his shoulders he took a big breath and released it in a sigh as your lips traced the line jaw.

"Can you give me a hickey?"

Chan’s face was flushed pink and he avoided looking at you after he asked that in a thin voice. So this is the kind of mood you are in. In his job, Chan had to take care of others a lot and rarely had the luxury of just sitting back and letting things take their course. If he wanted to have some marks on his skin this was usually the sign that he would let go tonight, even to the point that you were in charge of how he looked tomorrow.

"Sure. I think I know just where would be a good spot."

Your lips brushed his graceful neck and he shivered at the sensation of your open-mouthed kisses. It was tempting to mark him right there on velvety skin in the middle of his neck but the more levelheaded Chan from tomorrow morning would not appreciate having to wear a scarf for the next two weeks or so until the bruise would fade. That did not mean you had no fun though. You lightly sucked and enjoyed Chan’s breathy moans. He let his head fall back, offering you every little bit of his exposed neck to play around with.

You pushed his loose t-shirt up a bit and pressed your fingers against his abdomen. Chan tensed and the cute moans stopped.

"What is it?" you said softly.

He graveled for a bit but after asking a few times he finally said what was up.

"I put on weight."

Your first instinct was to say "where?" but you should take his concerns a bit more seriously.

"I still think you are the prettiest, Channie."

He opened his mouth to argue but took his hand and he stopped himself.

"Really, you don’t have to worry. You will have more time again to work out in the future if you want. You can even drag me along, okay? It will be fine and I still love you no matter what."

Chan had no words so he let his actions do the talking. You were almost sure you saw his eyes glitter a bit too much before he crashed your lips together and pulled you on top of him.

A/N: Only Chan is allowed to call me babe <3

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starchxn · 2 years

Text

Fire and Water | Yang Jeongin

⥃Stray Kids Masterlist

Pairing ➳ Phoenix!Jeongin X Merman!Chan (Platonic/Almost Guardian-like)

Genre ➳ Fantasy, Angst.

Word Count ➳ 946 Words.

Warnings ➳ Blood, Implications of Murder and Arson, Implications of a Breakdown, Burns.

Synopsis ➳ A tale of two creatures, of Fire and Water and of a new Beginning.

A/N ➳ Inspired by @sulfurcosmos Merman!Chan headcannon. My angst brain went brr.

Jeongin was never supposed to be near the shoreline.

Jeongin was never even supposed to set his eyes on the sea itself.

He had been warned of the dangers since he was infant, instructions and deterrents drilled into his head even before he had grown into his feathers fully. Warned of the moon and its hostile creatures. Of water and the deathly sentence it gives to those phoenixes unfortunate enough to get caught in its glistening trap.

Creatures of the sun and fire were destined to stay far, far away from water.

Jeongin was doing the direct opposite of that.

In all honesty, the day he had found himself on the shoreline was some what of a cruel joke of destiny itself.

How he'd stumbled on the rough grains of sand dripping blood, someone else's blood, and fell on his knees in front of the very waves that could burn him inside out. How he'd broken down under the moon, tears glistening on his porcelain-like cheeks for the first time in almost a decade as sobs wracked through his body and left him quite literally immobile.

How he'd begged the stars to guide him to a place where he truly belonged.

Perhaps the universe had truly listened to him that day, when a merman had breached the icy cold water and looked at him with blue eyes so wondrously heartbroken and curious.

Perhaps if it was any other fateful night, Jeongin would have made the merman pay for having seen someone like him, from such a majestic race like his, look so vulnerable and lost. Perhaps he would've threatened him, cursed at him, possibly even attacked him.

That one night, just that one night under the watchful eyes of the stars and under the guidance of the moon itself, Jeongin felt so unimaginably exhausted.

Exhausted of running. Exhausted of threatening and leveraging. Exhausted of a ledger gushing as much red as a waterfall cascading during a storm.

He let the man get close to him.

For the first time in years, he let someone touch him just the way his parents had so lovingly done before they too, had left him.

The merman's touch had burned his cheeks due to the saltwater still dripping through his palms but instead of shying away from the pain, Jeongin had embraced it. He thought of it as the only thing tying him down to reality. He thought that if the needle-like pain elicited from such a gentle touch was the last thing he'd ever felt, he would be satisfied with it.

Then the merman had healed him, or at least, it was the start of an extensive healing process.

Jeongin didn't know which part of his brain had influenced him into making it a routine to return to the same cove on the beach every single day, but he always ended up sitting on the same rock, staring at the merman as went about alternating between talking to his fellow sea creatures and silently checking up on him.

It had taken them a week at best to finally begin to speak to each other.

The merman had introduced himself as Chan. He called himself and all of the creatures of the sea the children of the moon, just like how Jeongin called all of the creatures of the sky the children of the sun. He was… a happy creature.

If there was something Jeongin could place well about Chan, it was his ability to read Jeongin like an open book. Chan always knew when Jeongin came to the cove just for the sake of company and refrained from striking up a conversation. He always knew when Jeongin was in a particularly loud mood and knew not to interrupt him in the middle of a long rant of how iffy his feathers felt under the sun's rays during winter.

Most of all, Chan never questioned him about the blood. The blood that was never his own.

On those nights where Jeongin would return to the cove so shaken up and lost in his own thoughts, covered almost from head to toe in blood and ashes, Chan would simply sit beside him and brush his aqua-blue tail by his legs as he held his hand, the continuous sensations of stinging and cooling as he wet and healed his palms again and again grounding him back to the earth.

On those nights where Jeongin was a fuse waiting to be blown with a clenched jaw and shaking fists, Chan was there to take his palms in his own and rub soothing circles as he explained the importance of each of the constellations he pointed out in the sky and how they impacted the well being of every creature in the ocean itself.

Jeongin had never once wished for a parental figure ever since his parents had left, but on these nights, when he had tears running down his face as his hands shook with the weight they carried, he couldn't help but see the blue eyed merman who sang a nostalgic, ancient and mesmerising song just for Jeongin's ears, as somewhat of a supportive figure.

For this thought, Jeongin would let himself go through rebirth a thousand times over.

He would never truly be able to accept it, but for Chan, for a merman, a creature who was supposed to have been a killer from his nightmares, Jeongin realised he truly would dive into the icy waters of the sea. For Chan, he would either burn the world, or burn himself saving it.

Because in the end, Chan had become his world.

In the end, Fire would be consumed by the Water.

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hyunnows · 6 months

Text

A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL | TEASER

READ HERE

In which Jeongin watches you chase after Seungmin over and over, waiting for his turn to have your heart.

PAIRING(S) | Jeongin x reader, Seungmin x reader

WORD COUNT | 10k+

RATING | pg

RELEASE | 25.10.23

Navigation | Taglist

You’re bright and bubbly when you slip your gift into Seungmin’s desk, excited to see him sport a [Y/N]-original accessory and hopefully fall for you.

Unfortunately, fate had another plan.

“Neat?”

“Leave me alone. This is why I’m not nice to you.”

Then why aren’t you able to stop the way your heart quickens around him these days?

Navigation | Taglist

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armysantiny · 2 years

Text

Midnight Ice Cream – HHJ

Summary; It’s late. Hyunjin wants ice cream. Midnight convenience store shopping ensues.

Staring at the ceiling long after the movie had ended and with his head comfortably resting in y/n’s lap, Hyunjin furrowed his brows. Why was he having cravings at stupid o’clock at night? And why did he not know what it was that he was supposedly craving? Shifting around until he made eye-contact with y/n, Hyunjin beckoned his partner closer, a content smile on his face when y/n reciprocated his affection.

“You doing alright Hyun-ah?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you without an ulterior motive?” Hyunjin whined, sitting up and turning to face y/n’s loving gaze. Pouting until y/n gave him an apology kiss, the artist huffed. He still wanted his answer after all.

Okay, maybe he might have had an ulterior motive, but that wasn’t the point here.

“Course you are love, but you look like you’re trying to stare through the ceiling.” Y/n reasoned, gently poking Hyunjin’s forehead. The couple’s poor ceiling had to endure his staring for so long. Lightly scoffing at his own behaviour with his lips pursed into an unimpressed straight line, Hyunjin wordlessly wandered over to the freezer, peering his head inside before his head poked back out again.

“We don’t have ice cream.” Huh?

“We – what?” Joining their boyfriend by the fridge-freezer, y/n followed Hyunjin’s line of sight. Why were they looking for ice cream again?

“Y/n, I wanna get ice cream.”

“Now?” Peering around to check the clock, y/n’s jaw nearly hit the floor. They had been awake for that long? Granted, it was the weekend, and Hyunjin was a freelancer, but the realisation still hit like a truck. “Hyun baby, it’s one-thirty in the morning…”

“There’s a 24/7 convenience store down the road though? C’mon, let’s get some now! It’ll be fun~!”

Sighing with an exasperated smile as they found themselves in the apartment block lift, y/n turned to the very excitable Hyunjin. How they had ended up in this situation was beyond them…but a happy Hyunjin was a cute Hyunjin, and there was little anyone could do when faced with the puppy eyes and pretty mole that belonged to Hwang Hyunjin. Stretching out a yawn, they watched the electronic display count down towards the ground floor, humming the last song they heard. That last song, of course, being the soundtrack of their favourite drama.

Walking down the pavement, the road the couple lived on looked rather pretty at night. Admiring the way moonlight danced and fell across the buildings and vehicles they walked past, y/n couldn’t resist the urge to snap a few pictures for whatever boredom-induced photoshop project they had next. Switching the camera mode to record when Hyunjin started skipping, their heart fluttered at the sound of laughter, all ferret-like and sweet.

"Someone's excited~” ending the recording and jogging to catch up, y/n pocketed their phone. They could watch the footage again when they got home.

“We’re getting ice cream; I have every right to be excited darling.”

“That you do.”

Walking into the 7-11, Hyunjin quickly greeted the part-timer working the graveyard shift before making a beeline for the ice creams, y/n in tow. Filling a basket with a quantity that definitely could not be eaten in one sitting, Hyunjin hummed to himself as he looked for an ice cream he could eat on the walk back home. Stuck between far too many good options, the brunet jumped when a certain y/n popped out from behind him.

“Make noise, will you?!”

“Hyun-ah…I’ve been standing here for the past five minutes.”

“Oh.”

A satisfied grin on his face as the two left the store with a bag full of ice cream, Hyunjin hooked his arm around y/n, reaching into the bag with his free hand. Passing one over to y/n and tearing off the wrapper of his own sweet treat, Hyunjin finally indulged his midnight cravings, the trademark happy dance following soon after. The ice cream was good, and in the secrecy and quiet of the night with y/n by his side, it was even better.

Still nibbling on their ice cream, as they re-entered the shared apartment they called home, y/n chuckled as they nearly struggled to put everything away. There was enough to last the couple longer than y/n could frankly imagine, but the late-night trip was worth it. Humming when a pair of grateful arms wrapped themselves around their waist, y/n shuffled in place, leaning forward and kissing a now very tired Hyunjin.

“I wanna sleep…”

“You do? And here I was thinking that you were wide awake~!” biting back giggles at their boyfriend’s unamused face, y/n continued. “Fine, fine~, let’s go to sleep.”

“I’m the big spoon tonight!”

“Sure thing, Hyun-ah~”

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @prism-nw, @k-library, @knet-bakery, @kpclub, @k-mysticsnet, @stayhavens, @districtninewriters

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @babyboobean, @taem-min, @xavi-in-kpopland | Taglist form

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crispy-chan · 2 years

Text

yellow wood ➻ b.ch

➻ PAIRING. bang chan x fem!reader

➻ GENRE. angst, fluff, action; the darkest minds!au, runaway!au, dystopian, superpowers

➻ WARNINGS. language, violence, blood, children are all in 'rehabilitation' camps, injuries, themes of trauma and death, one instance of implied assault (that is stopped), kissing, innuendoes, food, superpowers (PG-13)

➻ WORD COUNT. 29k

➻ SUMMARY. after a horrible disease had spread across the world, killing most children, the ones that survived were left with special powers. not long after, the government began rounding up all of the remaining children, sending them to camps in hopes of "treating" them. but you all know the truth...

they were never worried about the kids that might die. they were afraid of you - the ones who lived....

➻ A/N. welcome to the first instalment of my new series 'the owners of clé'. i began working on this fic back in june 2021 but 95% of it was written in the past six weeks. it's inspired by 'the darkest minds' my favorite ya book growing up (be wary - there are some spoilers!) and the fic is full of (sometimes cringy) quotes from the book bcs i was whipped and chan is also whipped </3. i worked really hard on this fic and i'm kinda happy with how it turned out so feedback is as always appreciated :3. tysm to @jakes-tummy for the beautiful banner <3 part of the once upon a time collab by @daybreakx !! Tysm for being so patient with me T_T and I apologize for the endless delays </3

➻ GLOSSARY. PSI — a term that refers to the surviving children of the disease that developed special powers. PSF (psi special forces) — a government organization meant to control, contain and watch over kids in camps. skip tracers — adult bounty hunters that hunt for kids with psi abilities and turn them in for profit. white noise (calm control - cc) — a sound at a frequency that only psi can hear.

MASTERLIST | CLÉ MASTERLIST

𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

When the White noise went off, you were in the gardens, pulling weeds.

You always reacted badly to it, a lot worse than all the others and you never understood why. It didn't matter if you were outside, locked in your cabin, or eating in the Mess Hall. Wherever you were, the White noise managed to get into your head, mess with your mind, and get you on your knees.

When it blasted, it felt like someone was repeatedly hitting your head with a hammer, and it always took you hours, as opposed to the few minutes the other girls took, to pick yourself up and return to previous activities, taking care of the West Creek facilities like it wasn't a prison they were forced to stay at. It was quite ironic, to say the least.

You didn't expect this time to be any different from all the other times.

But it was.

Having not seen what happened to provoke the punishment, you had the privilege of fantasizing about what horrendous thing some kid must have done. Maybe someone got bold (and stupid) enough to bravely step out of the designated area you were bound to. Or perhaps someone lived out the dirty fantasy you all shared and threw a rock at one of the PSF Special Forces soldiers.

If that's what they did, you could definitely understand, maybe even say that it was fully worth it.

You too would have done anything to make them suffer, at least a little bit. Just like any kid here in West Creek, you wanted them to feel at least a crumb of pain that they put you through.

The speakers situated in every corner of the “camp” spurted out two warning blares that served to immobilize you. The first one was short and strong; like a powerful jab to the stomach, whereas the second one was way more prolonged. The skin on your neck crawled and you felt shivers run down your spine as you hunched forward into the dirt, pressing your palms to your ears to try to block out as much of it as you could.

To the State government and the Department of PSI Youth, the alarm was a lovechild between a dental drill and a car alarm, that was racked loud enough to make some less fortunate kid's ears bleed.

The sound blasted out of the speakers rendered you all useless. It rippled through the air, shredding every nerve in your tired, overworked body, forcing its way past your hands which were—may you add quite pitifully—trying to block the loud noise.

It got so intense that a girl next to you screamed out in pain as blood gushed out of her ears, drizzling her uniform in what would normally look like cranberry sauce. You on the other hand fought the urge to ram your head into the dirt ground, knowing that once this would pass, you wouldn't be allowed to shower properly, and after years of living here, you knew that the grime fifteen seconds you had under the cold showerhead wouldn't give you enough time to properly wash your unruly locks.

You bit your lower lip in order to prevent yourself from bursting into tears. That would only result in more punishment.

And then it all stopped...and silence followed.

𝚡𝟶𝟷𝚡

Chou Tzuyu was the first to die. Or at least the first in your fourth-grade class in Glow elementary school. At the time, probably tens of thousands of children were dead. The government simply managed to do a really good job of hiding it from you.

People were too slow to piece it together, and by the time they all realized that the deaths were connected, it was too late. When it finally came to light that the excessive passing of children wasn't exactly a coincidence, the school had already put a strict ban on teachers talking to you about the situation. They thought that it would be better to keep you all in the dark, as they all prayed for the finding of a proper cure that could potentially save you all.

The disease was later called the Choi disease, after Choi Beomgyu, presumably the first victim of the mysterious death. Yet it wasn't just Choi's disease...it was all of yours.

During the excruciating weeks that lead up to you being taken to the camp, you were still entirely in the dark, stuck in your world of drawing and playing catch in the backyard. The night before, when your mom read you a bedtime story right before you fell asleep, a smile present on your lips, you would've never expected the tragedy that was about to occur.

That night it had rained, which meant that your mom sent you to school wearing purple rain boots. In class, you talked about dinosaurs and practiced some simple math before Mrs. Min dismissed you for lunch break.

You remembered every detail of lunch that day. You remember staring at the beef stew on your plate with disgust as you eyed the lunch lady warily. You remember racing with Renjun for the last spot at one of the tables.

The table where all the popular kids dined, including Chou Tzuyu.

You remember her passionately arguing with Mina about whether there was a strand of hair in her stew.

“I'm not a liar!” Tzuyu argued, her cheeks tinting pink as the tips of her ears turned red in embarrassment. The entire class was now watching the brawl as Tzuyu helplessly tried to locate the hair she claimed to have seen on her plate. “I swear it was here just a sec—”

Her movements halted.

The fork she used to dig through the food slipped out of her hand, banging against the delicate porcelain of the plate. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were trained at something beyond your head. You swiftly turned around hoping to see what she was oh so desperately looking at when you heard a thud.

Silence followed before loud screams and calls for help erupted from everywhere around you. When you turned back at her, you saw her body slump down in the seat, eyes trained at the ceiling as a little drool escaped her mouth.

One of the teachers immediately ran towards the girl, lowering her ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. Her face went paper white as she heard none, but at this point, you and your classmates still thought that she had fainted, similarly, like Sunoo did a few weeks prior during dodgeball.

The school nurse rushed towards her limp body, pushing the teacher away and instead trying to pump her chest multiple times before she lowered down and pressed her lips to hers, attempting CPR. Despite all her best efforts, the girl wasn't waking up. And once Mark nudged her hand with the tip of his sneaker, you all finally realized that she was dead.

Loud screams erupted, and panic flooded the cafeteria as the teachers desperately tried to contain the children, trying their best to calm them down and set some order.

You stayed glued to your spot, eyes hazy as you trained them at the spilled cup of orange juice on the floor that the nurse knocked over when she tried to save your classmate.

If it wasn't for the security guard that carried you outside once the Special Forces came in, who knows how long you would've stayed.

At home, you could only remember seeing president Hwang address the nation in sorrow, announcing that the disease has spread and that it was endangering the lives of all the children.

But then it hit you. The government was never scared of the kids who might die. Quite the opposite—they were scared of the ones that would survive. It was never about the ones that lost their lives. It was about containing the ones that would remain.

They were afraid of you.

𝚡𝟶𝟸𝚡

The rain was blasting against the windows on the day they brought you to West Creek.

You were seated inside of a school bus, along with about seventy other kids, all of you covered in sweat, grime, and tears. Most of you were pulled out of your homes at the most unfortunate times, including you. Dressed in your pajamas and no shoes, it wasn't exactly the most pleasant, your body was shivering as it tried to contain some of your heat. But you knew better than to complain.

Amidst everything that the soldiers have told you when they shoved you aboard the vehicle, silence was the most important one. That's why you focused on keeping your eyes trained out the window and watching each building in the distance come and go.

Your hands were tied behind your backs with a thick rope, making the entire five-hour ride painfully uncomfortable. You could already tell your wrists would be sore.

After they had forcibly taken you from your home, you were dragged, along with hundreds of other kids, into the city hall which was transformed to offer very little comfort, but to take in as many children as possible. Your ten-year-old self didn't understand at the time that there was no going back.

It took more than six years for it to finally sink in.

Ever since the first meeting you had with the doctor, you could sense the dread filling your gut before you even knew of anything. The man introduced himself as Dr. Kim, or simply Namjoon as he insisted you called him.

You were sat in a white, leather-bound chair, akin to the one at the dentist, and a large scanning device was hung above your head. The tremors wracking through your body must've been clearly visible, as he quickly jumped to point at the large poster on the wall.

“You see, after the disease broke out, each and every child was left with a… a power. A lingering side effect of the Choi disease.”

He cracked his knuckles, turning from the computer to give you a wry smile. Pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose, he questioned, “do you have any symptoms? Were you pre-classified when they took you?”

You shook your head mutely, still unable to mutter a single word. When the PSFs took you, the only thing on your mind was what had just happened. The memories of your own mother, staring at you like she didn't know who you were, like you were a stranger in her house, made the bile rise in your throat once again.

“Okay, so let's start from the basics,” he pointed at the lowest point of the pyramid. “The first category, and the one you're most likely to be placed in, are the Greens. These children possess a very high IQ and are able to solve puzzles and memorize tens of digits at a moment's glance.”

You suppressed the urge to violently shake your head. That wasn't you.

“Next, we have the Blues—who can lift things with their sheer willpower—like telekinesis, basically.”

‘Oh,’ you thought. So those were the kids that were trying to break out of the PSFs hold by moving rocks at them.

“Then, we have the Yellows and the Reds, who can respectively control electricity and wield fire. It's a pretty dangerous power when not kept under control, although they are pretty rare.”

“And lastly,” he clasped his hands together, a grim shadow casting over his face, “there's the Oranges, the most dangerous ones.”

Upon seeing the look of horror on your face, he hurriedly reassured, “Don't worry, you likely will never come into contact with one of those. They make up about 0.003 % of the population. The chances that you'll even cross paths with one of them is abysmal.”

Your hand clutched onto the armrest, nails digging into the faux leather as your voice cracked, “T-Their powers?”

“Mind control. They can enter people's minds, mess around with their memory and freely control them to do anything.”

You felt your heart fall into the pits of your stomach. This sounded… oddly familiar. If you were to classify what happened to your parents, you'd likely say something along the lines of their memory of you being erased. But what could've caused it? You didn't do anything out of the ordinary, did you?

Your hand just brushed against her arm as you pleaded, looking into her eyes…

And then it hit you. Touch. Could it have been activated by you touching her?

Your train of thought was interrupted by a loud cough, Dr. Kim's eyes glancing at you with a mixture of worry and suspicion. In a hurry, you mustered up the most “innocent-child-like” expression you could, hoping that he wouldn't ask any further questions.

“I'll have to scan your brain to see what color is beginning to develop inside of you, okay?” he gestured towards the device hanging above your head.

You could feel your hands begin to tremble. If this thing could find out what you were from just a simple scan, it would mean that Dr. Kim would find out soon. He would know, and then, they all would know.

Clenching your fists, your eyes shut as the beeping sound echoed through the room, the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard coming to a jarring stop. Namjoon's eyes widened at the warning sign that popped up on his screen before he hastily recomposed himself, his hand gently reaching to pat you on the head.

“It's okay, don't worry. I just have to call a colleague of mine to help me with something, alright? I'll be back—”

“No,” your hand shot out, panic flooding your veins as your little fingers clutched onto his wrist. “Please don't go.”

He sighed at the desperation in your pleading tone, breaking out of your hold. “I'll be right back, don't worry—”

Suddenly, your eyes flashed bright orange, pupils dilating as grabbed onto his hand once more. This time, with much more force. Hiding the tremble in your voice, you uttered, “don't go! I am green… I am a Green. I'm not a threat.”

His eyes went blank as he nodded, almost mechanically, retracting his hand from the receiver behind his belt. “You are a Green.”

“Okay. N-Now mark me as one in the system.”

𝚡𝟶𝟹𝚡

“Ouch,” you winced, shoving the tip of your finger in your mouth, and tasting the copper flavor of blood on your tastebuds. The thick, long needle you were forced to sew with had pricked your finger once again, this time drawing blood.

You hated working in the textile factory with passion.

The Sun was always glaring at you through the shabby roof, the wind would gust through the ruptures in the wall and the rain would drip on you through the cracks in the cement. Not to mention the dozen of PSFs standing behind you and breathing down your backs as their beady little eyes carefully watched out for any tiny mistake, something that would give them an excuse to scream at you.

You could feel your eyes getting heavy, lashes fluttering to try to keep them open. The muscles in your arm were twitching, causing you to drop the needle to the ground. Groaning, you bent down in hopes of finding it in the dirt but to no avail.

You were about to turn around to ask for a new one when you bumped into someone's chest. A woman, you assumed in her late thirties, was glaring down at you with her teeth barren, rifle hanging off her chest.

“You're doing this all wrong,” she sneered, pointing at the jacket you were sewing together. “Not to mention you're slacking off on the job.”

You furrowed your brows, focusing all your energy on not exploding. This was exactly what she'd wanted—for you to lose your cool and give her an incentive to punish you.

“Why are you so sloppy? I thought you Greens were supposed to be smart… Yet you can't even follow instructions properly.”

Next to you, Jeongin's hand slowly extended from under the table to gently palm at yours. It was his way of subtly reassuring you, telling you that he was there.

“Don't say anything,” he mouthed grimly, hoping that he had managed to convey the number one unspoke rule of the camp.

Never talk back to PSFs.

“What's with this stitching?” she jabbed you in the side, finger moving to point at the piece of clothing in front of you. Her teeth were bared, like a wild animal deprived of food and ready to pounce. But that didn't change the fact that the stitching was perfect.

Sewing wasn't that hard, and after having done the same job for years, it would've been almost laughable if you weren't able to do a simple backstitch by now.

“Answer me, Green!” she yelled in your ear, the taunt in her voice clear as day. It was an old trick by now, something you've seen happen so many times and you wouldn't let yourself fall into that trap.

When you didn't respond, a round of snickers echoed through the run-down building, the other PSFs enjoying the show. The woman looked around angrily, seconds away from dragging you away. Tears were already welling up in your eyes, knowing what would likely follow.

However, just as she was about to grab your arm and pull you out of the line, a loud clank resonated through the air, and everyone went quiet. If people weren't watching before, they sure were now.

Snapping your head to the side, dread filled you up as you watched your friend stare at the ground. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Jeongin kept his eyes trained at the crate he just pushed off the edge of the table. A dark shade of red blossomed on his cheeks and from the corner of your eye, you noticed that his hands were trembling.

And then it hit you—he did it on purpose.

He successfully managed to take the attention away from you, thus freeing you from the unwanted spotlight you were cast in. Cries bubbled up in your throat but you knew better than to let out a single noise.

Instead, you watched as the PSFs hauled him away, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Jeongin stayed quiet the entire time, but as he was dragged through the doorframe, he turned around to catch your gaze. Before he disappeared completely, his lips formed a weak smile, as if reassuring you that everything would be okay.

Well, to be completely truthful, it wasn't…

𝚡𝟶𝟺𝚡

Three full days passed before Jeongin returned to your cabin.

That was 72 hours, 4320 minutes, and 259200 seconds. And while the days at West Creek used to fly by in a monotonous haze, having repeated the same routine for years, these past three days were nothing but excruciating pain.

It was almost like you could feel each second.

The anxiety was eating away at your insides, and you often found yourself returning to an old habit you thought you had gotten rid of back when you were in second grade—biting your nails. But the stress of not seeing Jeongin for so long causes your heart to cave in from the inside.

You were sitting outside the cabin, hogged up with your blanket when you finally spotted him.

He was walking back from the closed-off sector of the camp, and even from your spot on the ground, you could see that he was limping. His right leg was visibly injured, you noted, and from the way he clutched onto his stomach, you would assume that he hadn't eaten in a long time.

“Jeongin,” you sprung up to your feet, running up to him. Despite his horrible state, you were glad to see him back alive. Jeongin, however, didn't seem to share the sentiment. He breathed out a shaky breath but didn't respond, leaving you to worry for him even more.

“Look, I left you something from dinner,” you gestured towards the small tray with food, attempting to break the ice, but he simply shrugged you off, walking (or rather limping) past you. When you turned around and called for him, he finally murmured, “I-I'm sorry… I just need to be alone now…”

With a heavy heart, you watched as he dragged himself back into the cabin before unceremoniously plopping himself on his bunk, immediately falling asleep.

That night, as he tossed and turned under you, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. No one really knew how the PSFs punished you, except for the children who have been punished themselves, of course. But it didn't stop you guys from forming your own theories.

And that was how most of the stories came to be, some just baseless rumors created to occupy your mind with something other than the neverending cycle of monotonous work at the factory, while others were a mix of that and the little snippets of truth that one of the unfortunate children could confirm after having experienced it first hand.

And that night, you realized a sad, bitter truth. Talking to Jeongin, laughing with him, eating together in the mess hall… it would never be the same.

Actually, Jeongin would never be the same.

Not after what they had done to him.

𝚡𝟶𝟻𝚡

You spent the following days nervously trailing behind your friend, unsure of how to act around him after what had gone down. The circles under his eyes were heavy, and the way he carried himself seemed almost lifeless.

Every time he wordlessly passed you in the gardens, you felt your heart shatter. Guilt washed over you, sweeping through your mind and trickling into every crevice of your conscience.

How could you not feel like it was your fault?

As you grappled with the wrenching feeling of penitence, the days went on, burly winter days bleeding into spring. The few flowers that were left were beginning to bloom and they lent West Creek a sort of coziness, as unreasonable as it sounded, but when in peril, you had to find joy in the little things.

You were begrudgingly digging your fork into the mystery vegetable soup when Jeongin suddenly slammed his tray next to yours, plopping into the seat beside you.

Your eyes shot up to him, confused, as you shoved another spoonful of the suspicious liquid into your mouth. Seconds later, you regretted that decision, nearly gagging at the salty flavor.

“Yeah, I wouldn't eat that if I were you,” Jeongin's lips quirked upwards into a half-smile as he tore off a piece of bread. You watched him, slightly jealous, as he ate the only thing that was edible in this entire canteen—stale bread.

When he noticed how you gazed at it, some drool appearing at the corners of your mouth, he chuckled, splitting the remaining piece in half. “Here you go.”

You stared at it for a few seconds before it finally registered. Blinking, you look up at Jeongin, making sure that this wasn't just a dream.

“Go on,” he noded in your direction, nudging the bread into your hand. “You can eat it. The lunch lady gave me some—I think she heard about the incident and felt bad…”

“Thank you.”

The two of you continued to eat in silence, the bustling crowd of kids slowly dissipating until it was just you guys who were left. There was this weird sort of tension in the air, everything around you suddenly feeling heavy.

As if on cue, Jeongin turned around to face you, a serious expression on his face. His hand extended under the table, enveloping yours as he whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

“We have to escape from here.”

At first, you snorted. It was a natural reaction to something as preposterous as escaping from this hell on earth. There was no way he was serious, was there? This was ludicrous…

“I'm not kidding,” he spoke hushedly, training his eyes at the ground. Then, his expression morphed into one of fear as he stuttered, “T-They're gonna send me away…”

Immediately, your grip on his hand tightened. “What do you mean?” you implored, tears welling in your eyes. “Why would they be sending you away?”

A-All of us,” he choked out. “They're sending all of us Yellows away next week. Just like they did to the Reds before…”

N-No… no. this couldn't be happening. This absolutely couldn't happen. Biting down on your lip, you could feel your mind beginning to shut off. Jeongin, having spotted your reaction, immediately reached to caress your face.

“It's okay, Y/N. Please, don't cry…”

You wiped away the tears with the back of your hand, looking back at him. “A-Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair. “I heard some of the PSFs discussing it. It seems like their decision is final.”

You desperately tried to keep the tears at bay, burying your head into his chest. Sniffling, you gripped onto his yellow uniform. “What are you going to do?”

Taking a deep breath, he looked around to make sure no one was listening. When he found the coast clear, he whispered, “I want to escape this hellhole. I was hoping you'd agree to come with me…”

He was awfully gentle about it, making sure to phrase his thoughts in a manner that wouldn't sound like he was forcing you to come with him. He was well aware of the risks, and he himself had no problem putting his life on the line if it meant he could escape from this prison.

But he wouldn't be able to live knowing that he had left you behind. That's why he was asking you in the first place while giving you an option to reject his offer.

All his qualms dissolved into dust when you responded, voice slightly shaky but with an air of conviction.

“I'll come.”

𝚡𝟶𝟼𝚡

The following morning, you and Jeongin woke up at the crack of dawn, in hopes of preparing for your little mission before all the others would wake up. Granted, there wasn't not much for you to do; you didn't own any memorabilia and Jeongin insisted that he had a plan, a plan he was so confident in that his certainty never wavered.

“Are you ready?” he asked, helping you put on your backpack filled with knickknacks the two of you thought could be useful once you escaped. Looking over at him, worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded.

“Still don't want to tell me this grand plan of yours?”

He smiled, opening his mouth to speak when a loud beeping noise echoed in your ears. A glint appeared in his eyes. “Come on, we need to go,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand and running towards the north sector of the fence.

“We don't really have much time, but a new shipment of PSI children is arriving today. Most of the PSFs will be guarding the main entrance.”

When you raised your brow, he continued, “I heard them talking about it. One of the guards mentioned that nearly everyone will be sent to the main gate to handle the transaction. We should be safe for as long as they're away. We have maybe around ten or fifteen minutes.”

The two of you managed to slip through the narrow alleyways between the cabins, successfully avoiding the main path where you were likely to be spotted. It took nearly five minutes of continuous running to reach the tall, electric fence that bordered West Creek.

“I-I don't get it, Jeongin,” you implored, breathing in deeply. You haven't run like this in ages. “What now? How do you want to escape?”

“Well,” Jeongin paced towards the left, pointing at a small rip in between the thick cord of metal. “This is our ticket out of here.”

His voice rang in your head. He sounded so triumphant as if he was convinced that this was truly the way to get out of West Creek. You hated to be a killjoy, but you weren't able to suppress the disappointment that painted your face.

“Hey, hey,” Jeongin called out to you, cupping your face. “Don't worry, I have it all under control.”

The way your lashes fluttered must've given it away that you weren't really sure if you could trust him on that. Sighing, he extended his palm towards the fence, fingertips nearly touching it.

“Did you forget that I control electricity?” he piped, squashing down the worry that blossomed in your chest when he was about to touch the fence.

Your grin suddenly mirrored his, a wave of relief washing over you. You supposed that since using your abilities was prohibited in the entire camp complex, you had forgotten that underneath the color of your jumpsuit and behind the title the PSFs would refer to you as was a power linked to it.

Never had you seen Jeongin, or any Yellow, for that matter, use his abilities. The closest you have seen were a few blues throwing rocks at the angry PSFs when you were first hauled into the camp.

It was the first time you had seen the boy so concentrated. His brows were furrowed, and the tip of his tongue was peeking out from the corner of his mouth. His eyes flashed yellow, and for a brief moment, you thought you had imagined it.

He clenched his hand into a fist before releasing it. And just like that, you could see the bright yellow hue color the fence as the golden mass appeared to wrap around each metal cord. Then, when he added his other hand, the yellow seemed to withdraw away from where he was pointing, like the red sea parting in front of Moses.

“You're making the electricity disappear?” you asked in awe, eyes widening at the sight. It was singlehandedly one of the most amazing things you have ever seen. Jeongin smiled fondly at your genuine amazement, chuckling to himself.

“Not exactly. I can only control it, not generate it or make it disappear.”

Once he was sure that the electric current was gone, crouched down. The morning bell rang loudly, drumming in your ears as the boy whispered, “Quickly! We don't have much time left.”

His nimble fingers reached to wrap around one of the loose cords, tugging upwards. When it didn't budge, he applied more force, finally causing it to bend to his wishes. You helped him pull it up, silently cheering when you had managed to create a hole big enough for you to crawl through.

“You go first,” Jeongin pointed toward the new opening in the kilometers-long fence. You shook your head softly. “No. You should go first.”

“Y/N,” Jeongin began, a smile spreading across his face. “Just go, okay. We're both going to make it out of here, understand? There's no need to argue about this.”

“Okay.”

Laying down on the muddy ground, you pushed your backpack through the gap, following almost immediately. You did your best to shuffle through the tight space, cursing when you felt something tug at your jumpsuit.

“Shit, something got caught on my collar,” you whisper-shouted, panicking as you couldn't move forward. And if that wasn't enough, you heard loud stompings from behind you, which could only mean one thing…

“Fuck,” Jeongin cursed under his breath, reaching his hand to unhook the collar of your jumpsuit from the barbed wire. You heard him mumble a string of colorful words when the sharp metal spike grazed his palm, tearing through the skin.

“Don't move!” a loud voice hollered from across the garden, causing panic to flood your veins. “J-Jeongin,” you whimpered, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you struggled to move.

“Don't worry,” his voice was calm and leveled. How he had managed to sound so collected in this situation was unknown to you, but you appreciated it nonetheless. “I'm getting you out of here.” He took a few controlled breaths before skillfully unhooking the wire from your clothes.

You cried in relief once you finally emerged on the other side, massaging your sore limbs. When you turned around to look at Jeongin, however, you froze, watching in horror as one of the PSFs grabbed his rifle and aimed it at the boy.

The screams got caught in your throat, the loud bang ricocheted before you could even warn him. The bullet pierced right through his arm, causing the limb to fall to the ground as he howled in pain.

“J-Jeongin,” you whispered, the sound barely audible as you stilled in your spot, eyes glued to the wound as crimson started to color the fabric of his jumpsuit.

“Damn it,” he cried, clutching his arm in pain as he desperately tried to stop the flow of blood. “Fuck! You have to go, Y/N. Now!”

The words are stuck in your throat as you vehemently shake your head. “N-No. I c-can't leave you here. Y-You have to come t-too.”

“Y/N,” the chuckle that left his lips was broken, a sound so heartbreaking you could feel your insides clenching. “It's obvious that I'm not making it out of here so please fucking go before they get you.”

You sucked in your lower lip, tears streaming freely down your face. “Please… for me? If you don't go, this entire mission will be useless, do you hear me?”

“B-But I—”

“Please.. Just go, I'm begging you,” his voice cracked and you noticed how heavily he was breathing.”

“Don't move!” the PSFs shouted, their voices now a lot closer. Another bullet whirred past you, missing you by a hair.

As you struggled to stand up, Jeongin gave you a somewhat reassuring smile, blinking away the tears. Your trembling hand reached down to cup his face, unknowing of what a big mistake it would be. As you gently caressed his cheek, trying to imprint every single feature of his fox-like face into your mind, something flashed in his eyes.

They were suddenly blank, and he gazed at you distantly. You could see the gears spinning in his head as he opened his mouth, heart-shaped lips uttering a question that would replay in your head for the following weeks like a broken record.

“Who are you?”

Your mouth parted in shock, realizing that history had repeated itself.

With a loud cry, you sprang up, running away from the fence as if your life depended on it (which it did). You could hear the screams, alarm blaring off as one of the PSFs finally remembered to use the White Noise.

You clutched your hands over your ears, feeling the bits of blood trickle down your forearms as you fought to move forward, wanting to put as much distance between you and the camp.

Stumbling through the forest, you finally emerged on the other end of it, your feet having carried you to the main road. Tears were streaming down your face, and you felt sick to the stomach.

What have you done?

Not only did you leave Jeongin behind, even though he was the one that was in danger, but you had also managed to erase his memories of you.

Just like with your parents.

It was exactly because of this you had decided to not make friends and grow attached to anyone—you didn't want to go through the pain of realizing that someone you considered close to you, someone you cherished, was gone.

He had no memories of you.

You had managed to obliterate your existence from his mind. Choked sobs left your mouth as you ran, leaving the past six years of your life behind. The dark forest was far behind you, as you heard the voices of the PSF officers drow out into a quiet buzz.

You were on your own now.

𝚡𝟶𝟽𝚡

Everything was quiet.

In front of you, a long strip of land extended over the horizon, nothing but fields in sight. You had been walking for at least a few hours now, and the afternoon heat was beginning to get to you as you wiped off the sweat from your forehead.

Thankfully, after a few minutes, you began to see the outline of a rundown structure. It was a gas station, you realized, and a breath of relief escaped your lips.

You burst through the door of the beat-down gas station, relief washing over you immediately as you spotted that there was still some food on the shelves. Holding your breath, you walked through the aisles, searching for the goods with a long shelf life. The ground was littered with old cardboard boxes and shattered glass bottles, so you tried your best to tippy-toe around it.

Just as your hand was reaching for a bottle of water, you heard a loud crash coming from the front of the store. Two voices were arguing, and by the sound of it, they were both men (or perhaps boys, you had no way of knowing for sure).

You began to panic, grabbing the bottle and a bag of chips from the shelf as you quietly headed for the exit. Then, as if on cue, you heard a truck pull up to the curb, two men dressed in black with rifles in their hands coming out.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, cursing your fate. You had just escaped West Creek, why did you have to run into someone? You were startled from your transfixion by a quiet voice.

“Pss,” you turned around coming face to face with a guy around your age. He was crouching behind the counter, motioning for you to follow him. Under any other circumstances, you would've run away, but it seemed like you had no choice.

The handsome boy quietly led you out of the store from the back entrance, his hand wrapped around your wrist. You flinched at the contact, the memories from today's morning flooding back into your head as you tugged your arm from his grip.

“Uh, s-sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, running his hand behind his neck. It was then that you noticed he had taken you to a small minivan. “I figured you'd wanna get away from the skip tracers.”

Your brow arched at the unfamiliar word. His eyes slid down to your uniform and understanding, along with surprise, flashed across his face. “Did you just come from a camp?”

As if the words were stuck in your throat, you nodded, nervously looking behind you. Whoever these skip traces were, they sure seemed like bad news, and you didn't want to stay and find out what they'd do to you.

You looked back at the boy to find that he was still looking at you, worry written all over his face.

“You can come with us if you'd like,” he motioned to the vehicle, walking up to the front and opening the door. As soon as he did, a lanky mass of limbs stumbled out, nearly hitting the pavement.

“What took you so long, Chan? I thought you were just—”

The words stilled in his throat, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. You took the moment to take him in; he was notably around your age, but nearly not as tall as Chan and had a leaner build. His hair was a mix of honey and light brown, the unruly mop of curls splayed in front of his eyes, framing the circled spectacles perched on top of his high nose bridge.

His mouth twisted into an exasperated scowl. “I thought we said no strays!?”

Chan rolled his eyes, “We were talking about the cats, Sung. Not people…”

Your eye flickered from one boy to the other, brain going into overdrive. Sweat was beginning to line your forehead as you fiddled with the sleeve of your green uniform. It had been way too long since you had properly talked to anyone other than Jeongin.

“I'm sorry,” you lowered your gaze to the ground, not wanting to hold eye contact. “I don't want to intrude, I'll be leaving so you don't have to worry.”

The last part of your sentence was directed at the lanky boy who merely scoffed, but cowered under the glare Chan sent him. Running his hand through his greasy hair, he mumbled, “that'd probably be for the best.”

Suddenly, a loud crash reverberated through the air, causing you all to look back at the gas station.

“Shit,” Chan cursed under his breath upon seeing a man with a rifle run towards you. “We have to go. Now.”

Grabbing you by the arm, he opened the back door of the truck before shoving you in, jumping in behind you, and sliding into the driver's seat. Slamming his foot on the gas pedal, the engine roared to life and the vehicle shook before finally moving forward.

“Are those skip tracers?” Jisung screeched, craning his neck to look out the window. “No,” Chan snorted. “It's Ronald McDonald… Of course, it's the skip tracers!”

He shot Chan a half-baked glare before turning around, his fingers gripping around his seat. “Are you okay, Min?”

It was only then that you noticed the young boy, maybe a couple of years younger than you, curled under a blanket. He was wearing what you assumed used to be a Power Rangers graphic tee and a pair of faded sweats.

Peering at Jisung from under his lashes, he nodded breathlessly, bracing himself as the loud sound richoteered through the air.

The first gunshot popped like a firecracker.

It was loud and piercing, but it wasn't aimed at you. Almost like a warning. The second shot, however, pierced through the back and the bullet exited the minivan from the front window.

A groan tore from Chan's mouth as he swerved the van, turning to the right in hopes of losing whoever was behind you. One of the glass panels shattered into tiny pieces, and you had to put your hands above your head in order to protect your eyes.

“Is there a freaking skip tracer convention around here? Why are there so many of them?” Jisung wheezed, frustration enveloping him as he turned around to face you. “You know, this is kind of your fault. They never would've latched onto us if—”

“Jisung,” Chan cut him off, glowering. “It's not her fault, okay. They pulled up when both of us were in the store.”

The argument was cut off when yet another bullet pierced through the van, flying right above your head. You didn't even register the scream that left your parted lips. Chan turned around, eyes filled with concern as he bit his lower lip.

He furrowed his brows as if pondering before he parted his lips to ask, “do you know how to ride a bike?”

You peered at him, utterly confused as you slowly nodded your head. Your dad had taught you when you were about seven, a mere three years before you got taken to camp, and you supposed you still remembered something.

“Y-Yeah, why?”

His lips curled into a grin, eyes brightening as he swerved the minivan. Your hands sprung up to brace yourself from hitting your head against the window. “Well, driving a car is almost the same. And I need to you take the captain's seat.”

No. You were about to protest, half a dozen of arguments against you driving springing up in your head but it appeared that you didn't have a say in the matter. He slammed his foot on the brake, the vehicle coming to a halting stop and he undid his seatbelt.

“It's really simple—left foot is the break, right is the gas. You just need to steer with the wheel, okay?”

His strong arms wrapped around your torso, squashing any remaining objections at the tip of your tongue as he lifted you from the back of the van, lowering you into the driver's seat, too gently considering the fact that you had a bunch of armed men trailing behind you.

“Okay, I'll need you to go. Now, Green!” he urged, nearly stumbling back as your right foot hit the pedal. “Great! Now keep going.”

The adrenalin coursing through your veins matched the rapid beating of your heart as your clammy hands gripped the steering wheel. In the rearview mirror, you could see Chan opening the back doors of the van.

You were about to question what the hell he was doing, putting himself in so much danger, but Jisung beat you to it. “What the fuck are you doing, Chan? This is insane…” his voice eventually trailed off into nothingness. You had almost forgotten he was there.

“Don't worry,” he chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down. “I got it.”

You didn't know what he meant by “it” until you looked back up into the rearview mirror to see a giant tree hurling through the air, effectively blocking off the van behind you. All done with a flick of his wrist.

It then hit you; Chan was a Blue.

You have never witnessed one use their abilities to this extent, not to mention showing a sliver of control over the newfound powers. The most you had seen were the small group that tried to rebel when you were brought to camp, and that was now over six years ago.

Slamming the door shut, Chan returned to the front seat, patting you on the shoulder.

“See. I knew you'd do a great job.”

You lifted your hand from the steering wheel to smack him on the arms. An exaggerated cry left his lips as you grunted, “that was nothing like riding a bike!”

“Okay, okay. But you did a great job,” his lips formed another smile, this one even brighter than the previous one. “Perhaps you can be our permanent driver.”

“No way,” you shook your head, unable to stop the corners of your lips tugging upwards. “Why couldn't he drive,” you pointed to Jisung who was still curled up in the passenger's seat, the round spectacles nearly falling off his nose.

“Not a chance—Sung can't see more than a few feet in front of him. Trust me, you wouldn't want him driving us, darlin'.”

You nearly did a double-take at the term of endearment, heat rising to your cheeks as you concentrated on the road, praying that he didn't notice.

He leaned over the seat, his head right behind yours and you could've sworn you felt his breath fan your neck. “Alright, you have to be careful—they blew out the back tire so you're driving on the rim. You can pull up on that gas station over there—” he pointed to the right.

Jisung managed to squeeze himself through the tiny gap between the two seats, climbing over them with a grunt.

“Are you okay, Min?” he asked, voice gentle and sweet—nothing like the way he talked to you or Chan. Your eyes flickered upwards, straining your neck to see the young boy to whom Jisung was talking to.

“Oh, right,” Chan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “We haven't really introduced ourselves, have we?”

Slamming your foot on the brake pedal, the vehicle came to a stop, tucked behind a row of trees. You turned around to face the three, smoothing down the creases of your uniform as you replied, “Yeah. Well, I'm Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Chan chuckled at your attempt to curtsy while seated, running his hand through his hair before he held it out to you. “Well nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Chan, as you may have heard, and the cranky one behind me is Jisung.”

Said boy gave you a simple nod as his hands continued to run through the younger boy's tangled locks. “And this lovely guy is Seungmin, our little lightbulb.”

It took you a few seconds to comprehend what he meant. Yellow. He was a Yellow. You supposed that was the reason why there was a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves on his hands.

“How long have you guys been traveling together?” you asked, using your hand to prop yourself up from the driver's seat, trading places with Chan. A grim expression took over his face, but it quickly passed, replaced with a bashful smile.

“We just broke out of camp a few weeks ago. We're searching for Yellow Wood.”

Upon seeing the confusion on your face, he questioned, “you haven't heard of it?”

But you didn't hear him, your face had gone completely blank when he mentioned the three of them escaping camp as if it was something normal. Memories of your own escape—the one that was made possible only because of Jeongin—flooded your mind. His eyes… the empty stare he gave you once you accidentally wiped all traces of yourself from his memories… it all came rushing back.

“Y-You managed to break out? How many of you?”

Chan's brows furrowed as he seemingly pondered, “Maybe around two dozen? I'm not really sure, we just ran for our lives…”

Your mouth parted in shock and you nodded, strands of hair falling over your face as you let the information sink in. Two dozen. How was that even possible? You barely managed to get out of there in one piece, so how did they manage to escape in such a large group?

“What about you?” Jisung suddenly asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. His arms were crossed and the expression on his face was unreadable—nearly a perfect poker face. “How did you escape?”

Almost immediately, you shrank, curling yourself into a ball. You avoided his gaze and instead looked out the window, trying to blink away the tears that were gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I-I–” the words got caught in your throat as you gulped, clutching onto the sleeves of your uniform.

Chan noticed the way you seemed to want the ground to swallow you alive, grabbing your hand with his warm one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were clouded with apprehension as if he understood why you didn't want to talk about it.

He gave Jisung a dirty look, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Don't,” he mouthed.

His friend shrugged in response. “Is it so weird that I want to know something about her if she's going to travel with us for some time?”

Rolling his eyes, the older male opened the door, turning to you to say, “do you want to get some fresh air? I have to change the tire anyways…”

Wiping your eyes with your sleeve, you nodded, jumping out of the van and nearly stumbling to the ground. For the next five minutes, you watched Chan flick his wrist and take out the bolts before taking out the tire. When you asked if you can help, he waved you off with a smile so you opted to sit down and watch him work.

It was somewhat surreal to see him in action; it was clear that he had a lot of practice to be able to perfect his moves like this. And what was the most noteworthy was definitely the contrast between manipulating such small objects versus hauling a large tree from the forest. Unlike before, he wasn't using raw strength and power. He was relying on skill and precision, elegantly twirling his hand in the air.

“I'm sorry for Jisung,” Chan's voice cut through the silence, followed by a quiet grunt as he stood up and wiped his palms into the rough material of his jeans. “It takes him some time to warm up to strangers but he really doesn't mean any harm.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled under your breath. “I know. And it's understandable that he's so hostile towards me—he clearly cares about you guys and wants to make sure you're all safe.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as he grabbed the spare tire from the back with a groan. Your caught sight of the way his muscles bulged under the fitted shirt, heat rising to your cheeks causing you to look away.

“He has his own ways of showing he cares.”

𝚡𝟶𝟾𝚡

After successfully replacing the tire, Chan ushered you back into the van and claimed his rightful spot behind the wheel. You weren't really sure where you were headed, nor did you feel too comfortable prying about their destination, so you opted to quietly sit back and watch the fields transform into forests and the Sun bleed into the sky.

Some time passed, it could be anything between twenty minutes and two hours—you didn't really keep track—before you finally began to see some forms of life.

Chan took his hand off the wheel to crank up the radio, switching up between stations before he stopped, the first seconds of one of your favorite songs beginning to play. A smile appeared on your lips as you bobbed your head to the melody.

To your utter surprise, Chan began to sing along with so much passion you had to hold in a snort. He was purposefully exaggerating the lyrics and balling his hand into a fist to mimic a microphone causing you to giggle while Jisung could only roll his eyes.

The way he sang, despite obviously not taking himself seriously, was captivating. You realized that you really loved his voice—powerful, yet at the same time soft and tender. Towards the end of the song, the urge to join him overcame you as you began singing the outro together.

“You're here, there's nothing I fear And I know that my heart will go on…” you belted, surprisingly well for someone who never had any sort of vocal training in their life. You got so into it that you didn't realize Chan stopped singing, watching you have your little moment.

You were really pretty when you sang, he noted.

Once the last words left your parted lips, you gently closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing contently. When you parted your lids to look around, you found that all three guys were looking at you, your skin crawling and the heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

Their reactions were encompassing a wide range of emotions—from Jisung's raised eyebrow to Seungmin's almost aloof expression. Lastly, Chan was looking at you with what could only be described as fondness which caused you to look away shyly.

His eyes were nearly glassy, overtaken with awe and joy that began to seep through his veins. A charming laugh left his lips as he refocused his gaze back on the road, his mouth curling into a mellow smile.

After a while, he spoke up with a teasing glint. “Didn't expect your throat to pack such a powerful voice?” You pouted, playfully hitting his arm as he yelped. “You pack a powerful punch too!”

After that, the four of you simply indulged in the rare, peaceful silence that was accompanied by only the occasional song from the radio that Chan deemed to fit the vibe. It was nearly nighttime when he pulled up into the parking lot of an old, run-down motel.

“Stay inside,” his tone was unyielding. “I'll go check if the place is safe.”

With that, he jumped out of the car, briskly pacing towards the back entrance to scope out the area and any possible danger. You turned around to face Jisung, worry on your face.

“Does he do this often? Just leave and walk straight into the lion's den on his own?”

“Yeah,” his face relaxed and a more impassive expression took over his features as he gazed out the window. “He's always making sure that we're safe and all, yadi yada…”

But you could tell that despite his attempts to look like he was annoyed by his actions, Jisung was secretly grateful. When he thought you weren't looking, he but down on his lower lip, body tensing. He was nervous, you could tell.

Just like you were…

It felt like an eternity when you heard Chan's footsteps crunch against the asphalt. Your head shot up, a wave of relief washing over you as you saw his familiar figure head back towards you.

When Chan noticed you watching him, he shot you a wink, causing your insides to burn as you quickly plastered your gaze onto your hands in your lap. His head suddenly appeared right in front of your face as he leaned in through the open window.

“C'mon, the coast is clear.”

You tried your hardest not to stare when you noticed just how broad his shoulders were—they wouldn't even fit through the car window for God's sake!

A loud cough interrupted your train of thought as Jisung gave you a knowing look. Spluttering, you stumbled out of the car, nearly tripping over the uneven ground in the process. “Woah, careful there,” Chan's arms wrapped around your waist to steady you, helping you stand on your own two feet. “T-Thanks.”

The three of you followed the eldest's lead as he made his way through the back gate but not without his hand reaching back to hold a few of the unruly branches from hitting you in the face.

“Hey! How come she gets preferential treatment and we don't?” Jisung whined from behind you, oblivious to the warming of your cheeks. Once you finally reached the shabby motel, Chan led you towards the room on the very left, reaching for something under the mat.

Before you could ask any questions, he pulled out a single key, inserted it in the lock, and twisted it. A satisfying click sounded in the air as the smell of mold and wet socks filled your nostrils.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to go with an exaggerated bow causing you to chuckle. “Why thank you.”

Once you entered, you had to block out your ears since Jisung shrieked at the sight of the bathroom that was stocked up with basic hygiene supplies.

“Finally! I can shave my mustache,” he groaned, plopping himself on one of the two twin beds. A grumble escaped your lips. “Yeah sure, like you have one.”

You thought that no one heard you but a muffled sound from behind you told a different story. “Make sure he doesn't hear you say that,” Chan cackled, throwing himself on the faded armchair across the bed.

After Jisung and Seungmin took turns showering, it must've been near midnight. Exhaustion had overtaken your body as you gazed at the bathroom door, your lids fluttering.

“Don't you wanna go?” Chan suddenly questioned, motioning towards the shower. You turned your head to face him. “Y-Yeah, I'll go but I thought you should go first…”

“It's okay, I can tell you're pretty tired,” he gave you a soft smile. “I'll wait up for you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling gratitude fill your insides as you stumbled into the bathroom. Immediately, the flickering lightbulb greeted you with a series of light bursts, causing your head to spin. You steadied yourself against the counter, hands gripping onto the granite as you fought off the initial dizziness. A long continuous crack stretched across the mirror, reaching all the way to the upper right corner.

As you gleefully shed your camp uniform, a chill ran down your spine—likely from the AC that was blasted above your head. You hastily stepped into the shower, a blissful sigh leaving your lips as you finally washed the physical remains of camp off your body.

Once you stepped out of the tub, a grim realization hit you: you would have to put these nasty clothes back on…

You were seriously contemplating sleeping in your undergarments when suddenly, a knock sounded against the plywood.

“Come in,” you mumbled after clumsily wrapping a towel around your body.

The door creaked open as a blushing Chan stuck his head through the doorway. His ears were completely red as his eyes jumped across the room, trying not to stare.

“Uhm so I realized that you, uh, that you didn't have any clothes to change into,” he murmured, voice rising an octave higher towards the end. You nodded in encouragement for him to continue. “So I, uh well… I thought you'd maybe– I have a spare shirt!”

After an awkward pause, he added, “I know it isn't much and you obviously don't have to if you're uncomfortable, but I figured you'd be more comfortable sleeping in something clean rather than your camp uniform.”

The heat rose to your cheeks as you stared at his hand in which he nervously clutched the piece of fabric. It truly was a sweet gesture but for some reason, you were completely tongue-tied.

After another beat of silence, Jisung grumbled, “Y/N, just take the damn shirt and put him out of his misery.”

“Shut up, Sung,” the blush had reached his neck now, intensifying when he heard you giggle.

“You got a way with the ladies, man. You gotta teach me your moves someday, pal.”

By now, you were convulsing with laughter. Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, this was the happiest Jisung had seemed all day. Even Seungmin seemed to crack a smile.

After the laughter had died down, your face filled with concern as you reached toward Chan's extended hand. “A-Are you sure I can take it? Won't you need it to sleep?”

“Ah, it's okay,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I sleep shirtless anyway.”

Now it was your turn to become flustered. Pushing away thoughts of a shirtless Chan, you gripped at the shirt, mumbling your thanks. And before you could chicken out, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

It was too late for you to do anything about it but you already regretted your actions when the door shut. A sigh escaped your lips as you wondered on a scale of one to ten, how much did you fuck up.

“You're such a damn idiot,” you whispered to yourself, pulling on your underwear and slipping into the garment. Immediately, you were enveloped by warmth as the soft cotton material reached the top of your thighs, grazing against the sensitive flesh.

When you emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your hair, Chan's brain was going into overdrive as he fought the urge to look at you for longer than was appropriate. Running past you with burning cheeks, he locked himself in the bathroom where he finally allowed a breath of relief to escape his lips.

It had been a while since he felt like this.

Jumping into the shower, he turned the faucet all the way, hoping that the icy water would rid him of his crude thoughts. But who could blame him? He was still, at his core, a teenager, and just like any other, the hormones were currently rampant inside of him. And no amount of camp and survival would change that.

When he finally stepped out of the shower, he grabbed the last towel from the top shelf and used it to pat himself dry. After sliding on his boxers, he brushed his teeth, grimacing at the sting of the old, peppermint toothpaste.

Glancing back at the mirror, he took a proper look at himself for the first time in a couple of months. The sight that greeted him wasn't all that pretty. Between the cracks in the glass and the condensation from the water, he could make out the general shape of his face littered with all kinds of scratches and bruises—some of them from camp while others from fighting PSFs or running away from them. The long cut under his jaw was from a sharp tree branch that catapulted at his face while they were running through the woods. There was another wound that called for his attention, specifically, the gash that ran against his lower abdomen. Gently touching the smooth creamy skin, a wince tore past his lips, the recollections of the skip tracer attack still fresh in his memory.

Throwing the towel over his shoulders, he walked out of the bathroom, sighing as the less damp air of the bedroom hit him. A fond smile crossed his face when he noticed Jisung and Seungmin curled up in one of the beds. They looked so calm and peaceful, he was happy they'd finally get some well-deserved rest.

His brows furrowed—where were you?

Scanning the room, he found that the second bed was empty so his eyes gazed across it. Just as he was about to panic (who knows, Jisung could've annoyed you into leaving), he noticed a limb peeking from around the corner. He quietly stalked up to the bed, worry washing over him as he noticed you curled up with your back against the bed frame.

You fell asleep on the floor.

Lowering himself to your level, he gently wiped away the bit of drool from the corner of your mouth, chuckling at the display. His hands slid under your body as he hoisted you up, laying you on the bed before pulling the cover over your body.

He smiled as you immediately curled yourself into the sheets. You looked like you were in need of a proper rest too. Just as he was about to lower himself onto the ground, he felt a tug at his hand.

“Y/N?” he questioned, unsure of what to do. “Where are you going?” you murmured, your lids fluttering. He wasn't even sure if you were properly awake.

Crouching down beside the bed, his hand reached to push the hair away from your forehead, “it's okay, you can go back to sleep.”

“But what about you? Where will you sleep?”

He chuckled, “don't worry about me, I'm used to sleeping on the floor.”

Your lashes fluttered open, “s-stay. You can sleep with me.”

Even in the darkness, you didn't miss how Chan's face went beet red. It was the waking up that you needed to realize what you had said. Once you did, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, causing you to stutter, “I-I didn't mean it like t-that! I wanted to say that, uh, that…” the words got caught in your throat, much to Chan's newfound delight.

“What is it, darlin'? How did you mean it then?”

“Well,” you slowly sat up, suddenly feeling a bit bold as you patted the space next to you. “There's enough room for the both of us is what I'm trying to say.”

Chan felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest at your confession, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. After making sure that you really didn't mind, he carefully lowered himself onto the mattress, a blissful sigh escaping his lips as his back made contact with the mattress.

“Don't think I've slept on one of those in years,” he groaned, sliding under the covers. It was only when you felt his skin against yours that you realized what he mentioned earlier. He slept only in his undergarments. You two were sharing a bed.

Well… fuck.

But it was too late to do anything now, besides, you'd gladly keep yourself in check if it meant that Chan would get to sleep on a bed instead of the cold hard floor. Not to mention that the presence of someone next to you was somewhat calming, and perhaps it would help soothe your nerves and stop any impending nightmares.

Yeah… you wouldn't mind being spared those.

It didn't take long for your body to start feeling heavy. In your half-asleep state, you managed to grab onto Chan's hand, entwining your fingers with his as the clutches of a deep slumber finally grabbed ahold of you.

And although Chan's heart was beating like crazy, it didn't take him much longer to doze off after you.

𝚡𝟶𝟿𝚡

The following morning, Chan woke up to an empty bed. He panicked, patting down the space next to him to realize, in horror, that you truly were gone. Jumping out of bed and throwing on a pair of pants and a jacket, he rushed through the front door throwing caution out the window as he called your name.

“Hey, Y/N,” he sighed after finally spotting you. You were sitting on the steps, just a few yards away from the edge of the parking lot that blended in with the forest. When you turned your head, your lips formed a gentle smile as you waved him over.

“What are you doing out here?” Chan paned after having run, plopping next to you onto the concrete. “Aren't you cold?”

You chuckled when he skeptically eyed you after you shook your head, clearly not buying it. “Here,” he shrugged off his leather jacket, throwing it over your shoulders. “You're shivering.”

Too tired to argue with him, you accepted it with a quiet 'thanks'. The two of you sat next to each other in silence, occasionally bumping shoulders before Chan finally spoke up.

“Did you sleep alright? You, uhm, you tossed around a lot…”

Fiddling with your thumbs, you murmured, “yeah. I woke up in the middle of the night and I couldn't fall asleep for a bit. But I'm fine, thanks for asking.”

“O-Okay.” A beat of silence followed. “You didn't have any nightmares, though, did you?”

“Surprisingly, I didn't. Must've been the first time in weeks.”

Chan's heart filled with concern as he watched you slouch down, pressing your nails into the palm of your hand. The somber timbre of your tone wasn't missed on him and he recalled how despondent you seemed when Jisung tried to hammer out of you some details from West Creek.

“I-Is it… is it because of camp?” he gulped, nearly wanting to face-plant himself for asking such a stupid question. “You don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it,” he quickly added, biting his lower lip in desperation before continuing, “but if you need someone to vent to… a shoulder to cry on– what I'm trying to say is that I'll gladly listen. T-That's only if you'd like, of course.”

Gulping down, his eyes were trained on you as he tried to gouge your reaction after having failed miserably at being tactful. You, on the other hand, appreciative of the gesture, simply chuckled.

“Honestly, I'm not sure if I have much to share. West Creek was Hell on Earth, but after living there for what– over six years, I got used to it.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “There was one person who made it bearable for me… my friend Jeongin. It didn't matter what would happen, Jeongin always had my back.”

By the time you got to talking about your friend, a single tear rolled down your cheek. Chan noticed it, heart shattering at the sight. “Sounds like a great guy,” he murmured, thumbing away the wetness from the apple of your cheek.

“Y-Yeah. He always took care of those around him and stood up for the weakest. Until one day, he found out that they'd be sending away all Yellows—that's when he came to tell me we had to leave.”

A wave of melancholy washed over Chan, the grief in the air now thick enough that he could cut it with a knife. “And I assume you were the only one who made it out… right?”

Unconsciously, your hand clutched onto his as a fresh wave of tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “Y-Yeah. He pushed me through the gate. He saved my life, Chan, even if it was him that was in danger.”

By now, you were nearly sobbing and Chan's arms had encircled your body, pulling you onto his lap. “There there,” he whispered, his voice managing to soothe you. “It's not your fault, you know? You're safe now so don't worry. I'll protect you… I'll protect all of you.”

Clutching onto his shirt, you whimpered, “I'm so sorry, Chan. I know under how much stress you already must be with wanting to keep Jisung and Seungmin safe. I-I'm just dead weight to you… I-I promise I'll detach myself from you guys soon—”

“Nu-uh,” Chan interrupted, stopping your breathless rambling with a finger pressed to your lips. “There's no way I'm letting you just go, darlin'—we're stronger in numbers, remember?”

When you meekly nodded, he sighed, “we're all headed to Yellow Wood and we plan on taking you there too.”

Upon seeing the visible confusion etched onto your face, he continued, “it's a safe haven for us PSIs lead by the Slip Kid. He's been escaping authorities for over a year now and Yellow Wood is his latest project—a camp led by and for us. Colors don't matter there, all of us just do our share and we get back everything we need—food, shelter, a sense of community.”

Noticing the way you stared at him wide-eyed, he blushed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “A-At least that's what the rumors say. It's supposedly a safe haven. Not to mention that if you want to find out about your friend, Jeongin, right?” his lips stretched into a wide smile, “Yellow Wood is the place to go to. Apparently, they can trace anyone.”

For the first time in ages, you felt something new bubbling up inside of your chest. Hope. “Do you really think so? T-That he'll be able to find Jeongin?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah. I'm sure of it.”

The conviction in his voice, paired with the sparkle in his eyes made you feel like he actually believed it. And this conviction of his had managed to transfer onto you as you hugged him one more time, burring your head into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, Chan.”

Your peaceful moment of tranquility was suddenly interrupted by a loud cough. Both you and Chan nearly jumped up in surprise and you were greeted by two figures standing behind you.

“Sorry to interrupt your, uh, private times,” Jisung snorted, hands shoved in his pocket as he circled around you two before plopping down on the concrete, “but Seungmin wanted to give something to Y/N.”

Looking up from Chan, your eyes grew wide. “For me?”

Climbing up from your position seated on his lap, you tried not to think about how close and intimate that position was. Your cheeks were burning as you inhaled, instantaneously finding yourself missing the scent of his cologne.

Seungmin took a few steps towards you, his hands secured behind his back as he gave you a bright smile, one that showed off his white pearls. Your heart melted at the sight.

Then, he brought his hands forward, holding a clump of bright red fabric in front of you as you carefully examined it. Gently taking the item from him, you let the light drop, eyes widening at the display.

It was a beautiful red dress, one that seemed to flair at the waist, and you nearly felt tears pricking your eyes once again. It was weirdly cathartic to see such a nice piece of clothing after having been stuck in a nasty camp uniform for over half a decade.

Almost like a confirmation that things were truly looking up for you.

“Min found the dress a while ago when we were grabbing supplies from a local mall and held onto it,” Jisung explained, cutting off your inner swirling of emotions. “He thought that you'd maybe appreciate wearing something other than your clothes from camp.”

Your mouth tried to form a coherent response, but nothing came out, the words getting caught at the back of your throat. So instead, you gave him the brightest smile you could summon, barely managing to squeeze out a heartfelt “thank you”.

To your utter surprise, Seungmin parted his arms and enveloped you in a bone-shattering hug that made you feel all fuzzy on the inside.

It was an out-of-world experience for Chan to watch the cordial interaction between you two. Even Jisung cracked a smile at the thought.

When you and the youngest finally parted, Jisung was surprisingly the one to speak up.

“I don't want to be a buzzkill or anything, but we should probably be going. We aren't sure who's around and it might be dangerous to stay any longer.”

Chuckling, Chan gave him a hard pat on the back as he slowly got up, the muscles in his arms flexing. “Not usual for you to be the voice of reason, Sung.”

The younger one flushed, irritation washing over his face. “Shut up! I'm supposed to be the smart one here, remember.”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” Chan replied nonchalantly, which in turn only angered Jisung more.

“You think you're all that just because you're taller and have some muscles, don't you?”

By now, Chan was full-on laughing at the exchange, inhaling to catch his breath. “Seriously? Do you wanna have this conversation now when I can deadlift twice your weight in a heartbeat?”

That didn't seem to stop Jisung as he muttered under his breath, “muscle pig.”

Another chorus of laughter ensued as the four of you made your way back to the minivan where you changed into the dress. It was around 10 in the morning, the sky was clear with no clouds in sight, which meant that it was the perfect time to start your journey.

“The dress– uh, you look really pretty in it,” Chan suddenly commented, the tips of his ears turning red. You giggled in delight, twirling around so you could watch the skirt spin.

“Thank you. Haven't worn one since I was ten.”

“It seems really formal though. I feel like I should ask you to prom or something…”

“Yeah,” Jisung snorted, “like she'd ever go with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the playful banter, feeling warmth seep into your veins. The more time you spent with the three, the more you wanted to stay.

And that was dangerous.

You shouldn't get attached.

Suddenly, a loud thud resonated through the air, causing you to flinch. A black pickup truck parked a few yards away from you and a middle-aged couple walked out. Chan immediately assumed a protective stance, stepping in front of the three of you, as if wanting to shield you with his own body.

The couple scanned the area, their gazes promptly falling onto your little group. Perhaps it was the way he was glaring at them with pure venom in his eyes, or maybe they just happened to be decent people who didn't grab and turn in every kid they saw for the large cash prize, but they only gave you guys a one over before walking away, no sings of pursuing the reward money.

“We should go,” Chan murmured, ushering you into the minivan as he jumped into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life.

𝚡𝟷𝟶𝚡

The following two hours were spent in silence as Chan turned off the radio ten minutes into the drive. You could tell that something was bothering him.

“Are you okay?” you bit your lower lip, hand reaching to his shoulders. His body tensed at the touch before eventually relaxing into your hold, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Y-Yeah, just a bit tired.”

A sudden burst of energy enveloped you, like a mist, it swirled around you until it took a shape. Your heart was beating when you realized what it was—a picture. Or more like a vision; it was still slightly blurry but you could make out the general shape of it.

Once the fog set, it finally hit you—the reason the setting seemed so familiar. It was a camp, a different one from West Creek but a camp nonetheless. There were people, kids, running around. No. Running away—they were all running in one direction—towards the fence.

“Everyone, run!” a boy shouted, raising his arms to lift the kids over the fence. It was Chan, you realized. A loud round of gunshots blasted through the air as you watched someone run out from one of the cabins, holding a small child in their hand.

Jisung, it struck you. He was saving Seungmin.

Another loud bang sounded, this time, a lot closer than before. Everything was in slow motion, Chan's head snapping as his jaw went slack, a scream tearing from his throat. And then it all disappeared.

“Is everything okay?” Chan questioned concernedly, his gaze flickering back and forth from the road to you. It seemed like time ran a lot faster when you got into this state when you could see other people's memories, but it didn't stop you from flinching.

“Yeah,” you murmured, hastily retracting your hand. “I'm fine.”

Lies. You weren't fine. And Chan knew it, his lips pressing into a thin line but he didn't push you, instead choosing to focus on the road. Unknown to you, Jisung was staring intently at the exchange, his eyes flashing with understanding.

So that's how it was…

You were staring out the window as you contemplated the scene that had just unfolded in front of your eyes.

You were sure it had something to do with your powers as an Orange—nonetheless, you still didn't have those under control so it was hard to navigate what had exactly happened. It seemed like it was a memory of Chan's, something that was weighing down on him for some time now. You wondered if the person shot was a close friend of his, if so, that would explain why he was holding on to this painful memory.

The four of you continued to ride in silence, Seungmin letting out an occasional snore as the landscape began to drastically change in front of your eyes. Gone were the lengthy fields and crops, slowly replaced by more industrial terrain.

Instead of watching wheat and flowers, you were greeted with crumbling factories, old barns, and the outskirts of a more rural town began to paint the view from behind the glass window. You couldn't quite decide if that was a good thing or not.

When a run-down gas station slowly appeared in your peripheral vision, Chan hit the breaks, swerving the car into the right lane.

“We should go there and see if we can siphon some gas. We're running pretty low.”

𝚡𝟷𝟷𝚡

Nearly a week had passed since you joined Chan, Jisung, and Seungmin on their quest to find the so-called haven—Yellow Wood. Your journey so far had been stripped of any grave dangers, save for the time you ran into a skip tracer while parked on the side of the highway. Luckily, Chan had managed to fling his device away into the woods before he could log into the skip tracer network and post his sightings.

And without what he likely considered his strongest weapon—his way to communicate with other tracers—he chose to slowly walk away, fear evident in his eyes.

Chan was now pulling over at a local mall that was just off the main road, the engine grunting as he parallel parked behind a cluster of trees, hoping that the leaves would at least provide a little bit of protection.

“Are we ready?” he questioned, turning around to face Jisung and Seungmin sprawled in the back with a grin. “Yeah, let's hope we don't run into any skip tracers.”

The four of you walked towards the main entrance, or rather—what used to be the main entrance. The neon sign above the glass doors was crooked, clearly not having been used in ages, and the gate itself was no longer functioning, the glass having been broken in with a sharp object.

The smell of rotten milk and processed food hits you in the face full force as you step through the entry, mindful of the sharded glass on the floor.

“Ugh,” Jisung groaned pinching his nose, the noise coming out more nasally than usual. “This fucking reeks.”

“Language,” Chan reprimanded, furrowing his eyebrows. “We don't want Seungmin to have your potty mouth.”

Jisung shot him a pointed glare but Chan was already a few feet ahead, walking towards the food section. Picking up a bag of candy from the lowest shelf, he grinned. “Grab whatever you deem edible. We should stock up on goods while we can.”

That's when your little group split up, each of you going in a different direction as you grabbed whatever you could get your hands on.

You were in one of the last aisles, standing on your tippy-toes as your hand extended towards the uppermost shelf. A groan slipped past your lips as your fingers managed to only push away the small box of Pocky instead of grabbing it.

“Need any help?” a breathy voice suddenly whispered into your ear, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “C-Chan, God… you scared me!”

He chuckled in reply, his eyes flicking upwards to scan the shelf. “You want the Pocky?”

When you nodded, he pressed himself closer to you, his chest going flush against your back as his arm stretched towards the paper box. “Here you go,” he handed it to you, not noticing the way the heat rose to your cheeks. “Thanks!”

“No problem. My arms are really long so I'm glad I could help,” he supplied with a grin, grabbing a tube of Oreos for himself. “Let's go catch up with the other two.”

The four of you gather by the soft drinks aisle, Jisung grabbing a few bottles of Mountain Dew for himself. When Chan asked him what he'd need this much energy for, Jisung shot him a glare, muttering a few curses under his breath.

“Is there anything else we need?” you poked Chan in the side, struggling to hold the heaps of food in your arms. “We should probably look around the mall to see if they have any other useful items,” his hand shot out to catch the KitKat that was about to fall from the top of your little food pile. “It would be nice to find some clean clothes, maybe even a blanket or so.”

A small nudge to your back made you turn around, only to find out that Seungmin had brought back a shopping cart from the other side of the store. “Thank you, Min,” your hand reached out to ruffle his hair, dropping all your items inside. “My arms were beginning to hurt.”

Jisung placed his energy drinks in the cart with a breath of relief, pushing it towards the exit of the grocery store. You made your way through most of the shopping mall, looking for a store that seemed at least somewhat intact but to no avail. It wasn't until you reached an old hypermarket all the way in the back did you find what you needed.

“Finally!” Jisung groaned, leaving the shopping cart stranded in the middle of the entrance as he ran towards the section relatively filled with clothing and home decor. “I can get some fresh underwear!”

While he headed off to the undergarments section with Seungmin nervously trailing behind him, you and Chan made your way towards the blankets and sheets.

“Oh my God!” you screeched once you rounded the corner, placing your hand in front of your mouth in shock. “Is everything okay?” Chan ran up to you, placing his hands around your waist from behind. “Oh.”

A sea of beds were arranged in front of you, a massive clearance of the store being dedicated towards bedroom furniture. “This is amazing,” you whispered, eyes flying from one side to the other, unsure of where to go.

When Chan turned to you with a grin, you knew something was up. His lips were curved into a mischievous smile, one that signaled that he was about to do something big, eyes twinkling. “C'mon,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the sea of beds. “How long has it been since you jumped on a trampoline?”

Hand in hand, both of you ran at full speed before jumping in the air, landing on the first bed. A chorus of laughter echoed through the empty store as you leaped from one bed to another, giggling like little kids. A burst of energy flew through you when you saw the massive King's bed, the gap between it and the one you were on currently a lot larger than the distances you've jumped over so far.

Placing your other hand on Chan's bicep, you motioned towards the prized piece of furniture, lips curved into a playful smile. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he shook his head, “that's way too far. We'll end up smothered on the ground.”

Despite him usually being the voice of reason, something inside of you didn't want to comply. Instead, you clutched onto his palm tightly as you made a run for it, leaping over the rift between the two beds.

“What the hell?” the curse flipped past Chan's lips but it was already too late. He landed on the bed on his back with a thud, your own body toppling over his as his hands reached to steady you at your waist.

“Shit! Are you okay?” you breathed out, using your hands to push yourself off of him in hopes of not smothering him. Chan bit his lip, something dark flashing in his eyes as pulled you back onto him.

“I don't know, are you okay?”

Your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would leap out of your chest, heat rising to your cheeks as you felt Chan's toned body right under you. Your hands were curled into his t-shirt and your eyes flew from one place to another, not wanting to look into his eyes.

His hand suddenly cupped your cheek as he steered you so that you were looking him in the eye. “Is everything alright?”

You whimpered, “y-yeah, I'm fine.”

Chan smiled so brightly that you for a second thought he was the Sun, somehow managing to reassure you without having to utter a single word. His touch was as delicate as silk, and you could feel his breath fanning against your lips. You shivered at the foreign sensation, leaning into his soft caresses as his hand slid from your cheek to your waist.

“C-Can I… can I kiss you?”

Breathlessly, you nodded, closing your eyes as you felt him press his lips against yours. Almost as if fireworks had exploded in you, you felt your insides burst with love, excitement, and affection, feelings you knew were dangerous.

Your hands curled into Chan's hair, gently tugging at the locks causing him to groan. Your lips danced together as you found a steady rhythm, a shiver running down your spine when he alternated the way his lips moved, applying more pressure.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, all your thoughts turning into mush as Chan continued to kiss you with so much fervor it made you dizzy. His hand was now cupping your waist, pulling you closer to him as his lips devoured yours.

Suddenly, a loud thump echoing through the store made you two part, breaking off the heated kiss. You exchanged worried glances as you somewhat awkwardly slumped down from the bed, slowly sneaking back towards the source of the loud noise. Chan protectively extended his arm to the back to cover you, sweat beginning to line his forehead.

Why was everything suddenly so quiet?

The silence was nerve-wracking, giving you the feeling that there was someone out there. And to confirm your darkest fears, a loud set of footsteps sounded. This time, much closer to you than before.

Suddenly, you felt a strange force tug you up, your limbs flailing like a ragdoll. You let out a choked scream feeling the air getting knocked out of your lungs. Then, you felt warmth envelop you, covering you like a blanket.

You opened your eyes to see your hands digging into Chan's back as his strong arms encased you, circling around your shoulders. A second passed. Two seconds. You were hanging in the air with Chan's arms wrapped around you, bewildered and afraid.

What was going on?

“C-Chan,” you whimpered, the sound raspy and coming from the back of your throat. “What's happening?”

“Shhh,” he pressed your head into the crook of his neck, scanning the area with a knowing glance. Then, almost wistfully, he whispered, “close your eyes.”

Just as your fluttering eyelids closed, you felt the force tug you upwards. Another breathless scream left your parted lips as you clung to Chan, feeling as if life was draining from your very being. Up, down, left, and right. These people had absolutely no qualms throwing you and Chan in every direction, the latter having to brace himself every time you two were flung into one of the metal shelves lined with bottles and cans.

“Fuck,” Chan whispered when a broken glass bottle slashed his arm, dousing the back of his shirt with whatever cheap beer was inside. “Don't you think that's enough, you assholes?!”

A chorus of boisterous laughter resonated through the store, causing anger to bubble up in his veins. The muscles in his back tensed as he balled his hands into fists, growling, “we're PSIs too, fuck's sake, so why don't you put us down and we can have a nice and civil discussion about this.”

As a response, you were thrown even higher in the air, the attacker spinning you a few times like a pinwheel. The insides of your stomach were churning as you coughed out, feeling as if you were going to pass out.

“What the fuck do you want from us, cowards? Let's settle this one-on-one, I'll fight you and we can see if you'll be so confident then you fucking bastards!” Chan bellowed, his grip on your shoulders tightening involuntarily.

Straining your ears, you picked up on the hushed whispers of a group of people—four, maybe five tops. Then, the somewhat deeper voice mumbled something, and the rest, albeit some begrudgingly, agreed with what he said, a breath of relief slipping from your mouth when you finally found yourself standing on the ground.

But you couldn't say that you were standing on your own two feet. Immediately as the soles of shoes made contact with the vinyl flooring, you felt yourself tumble, knees buckling under your weight.

“Shh, you're okay,” Chan instantly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, affectionately patting the back of your head. “ 'M so dizzy,” you mumbled, feeling your consciousness slowly slip away. You felt as if someone had thrown you into the deep end and you were barely trying to get above the surface and keep yourself afloat.

But you were failing.

And Chan realized that too as he scanned his surroundings, making note of the fact that Seungmin and Jisung were hiding in one of the nearby aisles, the latter signaling that they were alert.

A shadow glimpsed in front of him, and Chan now knew their positions. If worse came to worse, he could probably handle a couple of them now that he knew their location, or at least hold them off for Seungmin to reach a source of electricity.

That kid could be really scary when he wanted to…

“Are you gonna show yourselves?”

Almost reluctantly, the first one stepped forward, and to Chan's surprise, he found out that he knew him. His brow immediately shot up at the sight, confusion etched onto his face.

“Jeno?” he rasped, blinking to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The boy smiled, eyes turning into crescent moons as he scanned his former roommate of approximately two months. “Chris? Is that really you?”

Chan nodded, mouth agape as everything slowly began to settle in his head. This guy—Jeno—was his bunkmate back when they first came to camp. They didn't stay together for too long though since a new surge of children flooded their tine camp and the PSFs had to rebuild all the cabins.

But his shock didn't last long, instead, rage filled him at the thought of someone he used to consider a friend turning into such a monster. He watched as one after the other, four more guys came out from behind him, dressed from head to toe in military gear and armed with various weapons.

Suddenly, one of them stepped forward, twirling a small dagger in his right hand. Even from a distance, Chan could see how sharp it was, the cheap, flickering supermarket light reflecting against the sharpened blade. Gently laying you against one of the shelves, he stepped forward, shielding you with his body.

“Not a step closer, do you understand?” he threatened, voice low and dripping with venom. The guy chuckled, tossing his blade in the air before catching it, his gaze never wavering.

“Why do you think you get to call the shots here? Last time I checked, we're at a clear advantage here since it's just you and the passed-out girl.” His lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Not that she'd be of much use anyway. Although I must say she's a real babe, I wonder how good her mouth is…”

A chorus of laughter followed as the group laughed at their leader's crude joke. Chan, on the other hand, didn't find it really amusing. Blood was boiling inside his veins, his hands balled into fists as he struggled to keep himself under control.

‘Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts,’ he kept repeating to himself like a mantra, hoping that if he said it enough times, the anger would disappear like a puff of smoke on a chilly day.

“Hey, hey,” Jeno's mellow voice suddenly cut through the air, “it's okay—I can vouch for him, cap'! He's cool. Not to mention he's strong as hell too—he was the one who broke us out of our camp.”

Upon hearing those words, the boy stilled, visibly pondering as he weighed out his options. It seemed like Jeno's reassurance had eased him though, his battle stance relaxing. Slipping the dagger back into his belt, he glanced back at Chan, his lips forming a crooked smile.

“It seems like one of my guys trusts you, so I'll let you go. You can grab whatever you need and stay one night but that's all that we'll allow.”

Chan almost wanted to remind him that they weren't the ones to arrive here first, therefore they had no reason to dictate who could and couldn't stay but he bit his tongue. There was no point arguing with them and realistically speaking, he doubted any of you wanted to stay here for longer than one night.

“Sure. We'll be gone first thing in the morning.”

𝚡𝟷𝟸𝚡

“Are you sure you don't want us to help?” Jisung asked once again as he trailed after Chan, Seungmin shuffling behind him. “You can put her down and go look for the meds while we watch her, you know?”

“No way,” Chan cut him off, his facial expression hardened into a mask of apathy. “I'm not leaving her anywhere.” His voice then took a somber tone, “you didn't hear what they said about her, did you?”

Jisung's gaze softened, “a-actually… I did. It was pretty awful, I know you want to protect her and make sure she's okay, but—”

“But what?” Chan cut him off, his pace quickening as he turned into the houseware aisle. “Why is there always a but with you, Jisung?”

The boy's eyes widened at his friend's harsh tone, the words cutting deeper than intended. Jisung felt as if a knife had just been plunged into his stomach, tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes. Was he really that annoying?

Seungmin, having noticed the change in mood, watched as Jisung's steps slowed down before grabbing his hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

“I just… you're always taking care of us and I-I don't want you to get hurt…”

Suddenly, everything went quiet, Chan's footsteps slowly diminishing into nothingness as he processed Jisung's words. It was hard for him to focus, to fully grasp what his friend had just said—his brain having turned into mush long ago.

Chan was a born leader… or at least that's what everyone had been telling him since birth. He was praised for his strong yet soft voice that could command nearly anyone to do virtually anything. He had good morals—his mother had ensured that by raising him right—and that in turn made people willingly place their trust in him.

Wherever he went, people followed, unknowingly putting the burden of authority guidance on his shoulders. He always carried the weight of other people's problems, and while he enjoyed the feeling of satisfaction that protecting and caring for his loved ones provided, sometimes, it became a little too much for him to handle.

Somewhere along the line, he began to lose sight of who he was. All of his energy was always directed towards others, making sure that they were okay. Yet rarely had anyone asked him if he was fine.

Tightening his grip on your limp body, he took a step forward. Warmth filled him upon hearing Jisung's words—gratitude swirling inside of him, seeping into every crevice of his body.

“Jisung?” he breathlessly whispered right before he rounded the corner. “Thank you for caring. It means a lot.” He wondered if he even heard him.

Grabbing the pack of meds from the shelf, he made his way back to the clearance in the middle of the store where the four of you had made your little base. Gently laying you on the bed, he dusted his palm against his pants before opening the box with shaky hands.

‘There's nothing to be worried about,’ he whispered to himself, hoping that those bleak words of reassurance would make a difference if he made himself believe in them. You just got dizzy from being thrown around in the air—it was perfectly normal for people who weren't used to the sensation of telekinetics to feel woozy for a bit.

Hell, Chan remembered how one kid even threw up after being exposed to a sudden burst of the power.

Pulling the small bottle from the paper container, he sat at the edge of the bed with a plastic spoon he retrieved from the party section. He poured some of the milky-white liquid onto it before carefully cupping your cheek with his other hand, angling your head to let the syrup spill into your mouth.

“You'll be okay,” Chan murmured, brushing the hairs from your forehead. “Stay strong, darlin'.”

As your stomach rose and fell with each breath you took, dark thoughts began to fill his mind. The memories from the night of the escape trickled back into his head, flooding his thoughts with the gruesome scenes filled with blood, gore, and gunshot.

Running a hand through his hair, he groaned, shaking off the unpleasant memories. He’d have to move on.

“Oh… hey, Seungmin,” he waved, cracking a smile when he saw his younger friend. Though his expression fell when he noticed the boy’s glare.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. “It’s about Jisung, isn’t it?”

Seungmin nodded, angrily pointing to where he came from. He then motioned to himself and to you, his hand reaching to grab yours.

“You want me to go talk to Jisung as you watch over Y/N?”

Another nod. Chan sighed, remorse painting his face. “You’re right. I’ll go talk to him and apologize. Will you make sure she has everything she needs, Min?”

Seungmin smiled brightly, revealing his tiny pearls, and it was enough of a confirmation for Chan. He knew you were in good hands now. Standing up, he ruffled Seungmin's hair before heading out to look for Jisung.

It didn't take him long to find him; he was curled up against the wall next to the canned goods, head in between his knees. Chan felt horrible. It pained him to see his friend in such a state, not to mention that he was the one to cause the predicament with his insensitive words.

Crouching down beside him, he whispered, “hey, Jisung.”

Jisung didn't answer at first, sniffling before he lifted his head, looking at Chan with puffy eyes. “Y-Yeah? Do you need anything?”

It was official; Chan felt like an absolute asshole.

His expression softened as his eyes scanned Jisung's face, counting the tears staining his cheeks. Chan had half a mind to wipe them off with his thumb but managed to restrain himself. He came here to clean up the mess he made.

“I'm sorry, Jisung,” his hand dropped to his friend's shoulder, rubbing gentle circles into his shirt. “I was way out of line and I took my anger out on you—which I know wasn't cool.”

Blowing his nose into a napkin, he mumbled, “it's okay. I know you're just trying to keep her safe. I can tell how much you care about her.”

Chan's eyes widened, “her? Jisung, I care about all of you, you know… it's not just her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung replied, looking away. He crumpled the napkin, shoving it into his pocket, “it just feels like you don't care about us as much anymore.”

It took Chan a few seconds to bounce back from that. His heart began to beat against his ribcage so fast that he was afraid it would jump out of his chest. Is this how Jisung had truly felt the entire time? Was this the reason he had been so cold to you in the first place.

His hand dropped down to the floor as he looked him in the eye, a serious expression painting his face. “I hope you're not thinking that I'm replacing you guys with her. We're still in this together, no matter what.”

Judging by the way Jisung grimaced, Chan knew he hit the nail in the coffin. He felt the knife in his chest plunge deeper, tearing at his insides. “We're still the dream team, remember?” his voice cracked, the first layers of the strong facade he had built around himself beginning to crumble. “We're still gonna find Yellow Wood, right?”

“Of course we are,” Jisung exclaimed, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “You know I'd never willingly leave you guys. It's just that…”

Chan quirked his brow, egging Jisung to continue. “It's just that I'm afraid you'll grow tired of me. You're so… you're so powerful and I'm just… I'm just me…”

He breathes out, casting his gaze down as he stares at his shoes. “There's nothing special about me.”

Choking on his spit, Chan's eyes grew wide as Jisung's words finally sunk in. They weighed heavy on his chest, filling it with an unexplainable black void. His hand reached out, fingers flexing before he retreated it back, letting it drop by his side.

His tone was raspy when he spoke. “I thought you, out of all people, would know that I don't care what color you are. It doesn't matter one bit. I just… we talked about her time at camp and she told me she had a really hard time.”

Chan sighed in exasperation, frustration evident in his tone as he continued, “West Creek is nothing like the small regional camps. That place is hell, Ji. It's hell on Earth and when they were escaping, her friend didn't make it out. So yeah… I may have been by her side a lot but it's only because I want her to feel like she isn't alone. Not to mention that Y/N is Green too so your point no longer stands.”

Jisung's lips curved into a bitter smile as he chuckled, the sound so hoarse and raw. “At least I can always count on being the smart one. You may have the brawn but it seems like you were spared the brains.”

Raising his brow, Chan almost wanted to take offense at the statement but he brushed it off, way too curious now to interrupt Jisung's train of thought. And perhaps Jisung was right—he was, after all, the one to always come up with all their strategies. Which is why it frustrated him on no end that he had no idea what he was talking about.

“You really haven't noticed, have you?” Jisung shook his head, slightly amused. He couldn't fault Chan for becoming so enamored with you, but he could've at least paid more attention to his surroundings. One day, his naivety would bite him in the ass.

Chan was becoming more impatient by the second, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “What haven't I noticed?”

“She's not a Green, Chan,” he looked him in the eye, his gaze unwavering.

“She's an Orange.”

For the following few seconds, Chan felt like the air was being kicked out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe, he realized in panic, as his breath began to heave. His brain was foggy, almost as if he was thrust underwater with no way out.

“H-how do you…” the words died out in his throat, “how do you know?”

Before Jisung could even answer, a loud crank ricochetted through the store, causing the both of them to look up. A bright spark of electricity flashed above their heads before eventually vanishing from sight, but it was enough. It was enough for them to know that something was wrong.

“Shit, Seungmin!” Chan exclaimed, hastily climbing up onto his feet and breaking into a sprint. Jisung was hot on his heels, fear coursing through his veins as he thought of all the things that could've possibly happened.

And none of them were pretty.

“Stay behind me,” Chan instructed as they ran, causing Jisung to roll his eyes. “I mean it—you saw what they did to us—and it would've been a lot worse if it weren't for Jeno vouching for me.”

“Of course,” he sighed. “I'll let them hurt you instead of me, sure.”

Chan turned around to shoot him a half-baked glare but a loud scream caused him to nearly trip, his arms shooting out to brace himself against the wall.

“Let go of him! Don't you dare hurt him,” Chan heard you scream, your voice hoarse and muffled, as if you were being held.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, clenching his fists. They've just crossed into uncharted territory.

Suddenly, someone shouted, disbelief evident in their tone. “What the fuck? What did she just do?”

When Chan and Jisung arrived at the scene, their eyes flying from one side to the other as they tried to understand what had just happened, you were gripping onto the leader's wrist, staring at him with an unmatched intensity.

Your eyes flashed orange as you dug your fingernails into his arm, feeling the inexplicable rush of power course through you as you slowly sunk into his subconsciousness. His memories were foggy, almost as if you were trying to swim through mud, but you persisted, a clear goal forming at the back of your head.

It took you approximately fifteen seconds to get a good grip on him, and when you felt like you finally had control, you uttered the words with so much spite and venom it later shook you to the core.

“Let him go.”

In the relatively short time that Chan knew you, he had never seen you so angry or heard you order anyone to do anything in that tone.

The boy looked lost for a moment as if he was struggling to get out from under your spell but it was a relatively short battle. In no time, he found himself nodding blankly, his eyes devoid of any emotions as he turned around to his goon that was restraining Seungmin.

“You heard what she said. Release him!”

Scared and visibly confused, the boy released him, immediately retreating with a few hurried steps, hands held high in the air. “O-okay. Calm down. P-Please.”

Another one spoke up, “b-boss? Are you sure? What's going on—”

“She's a fucking Orange, mate!” the guy who had restrained Seungmin shouted. “That's what's going on. So if you don't want to get brainwashed—”

“Shut up!” you cried over their chatter, feeling the dull throb in your head intensify. You felt like someone was hammering against your skull as you released your physical grip on the boy. Pressing your palm to your forehead, you mumbled, “get out of here. Take your entire group and go somewhere far away.”

Eyes still blank, he nodded, motioning for his cronies. “C'mon, guys. We're out of here.”

Two of them were about to protest but one look at the empty, lifeless eyes of their boss and they knew that they had to do what he said if they didn't want to suffer the same fate. As they were picking up their stuff, Jisung immediately ran up to Seungmin, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. “Shhh, it's okay now,” he whispered into the crook of his neck, wiping away his tears.

But before they could go, an idea flashed through your mind. “Wait a sec,” you called out, clenching your fists. “Do you know anything about the location of Yellow Wood?”

The leader turned around, catching your gaze as he whispered, “where the grass grows blue…”

You were dizzy, confused. It felt like the ground was being yanked from beneath your feet, causing you to brace yourself against the bedpost. Your head was pounding and you felt like shit, suddenly remembering how you lashed out.

It was scary to realize you were capable of doing such a thing. This was the second time in your life that you used your powers willingly. You had half a mind to grab your few belongings and run out of the store, not wanting to face any of your friends, but you were too weak for that.

“Y/N!” Chan called instantaneously, finally finding the voice that had died down in his throat. “A-Are you okay?”

You slowly looked up, teary-eyed as you shook your head, choking out a sob. “N-No.”

With hurried steps, he eliminated the distance between you, hands reaching to wrap around your waist to prevent you from falling as he gently lowered you on the bed, rubbing comforting circles into your waist.

“Hey, hey. It's alright, okay? You're probably very tired now, aren't you?” he cooed softly, looking at you with so much fondness it made your heart clench. You looked away, whispering, “stop it. Stop being so nice to me. I-I know you must think I'm a monster now.”

“We don't.”

This time, it was Jisung who spoke up, walking over to you, clutching onto Seungmin's hand. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and Seungmin. There's no way we'd ever hold that against you.”

“I-I never told anyone…” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Six years had passed since I last used my power. I-I did it to avoid getting sorted since I knew they'd send me away. It was easier to pretend that I was a Green…”

“You're no monster, darlin',” Chan swallowed, sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. “You're a survivor, just like the rest of us. You're one of us…”

“It just seems like… I feel like the more that I try, the more damage that I do,” you uttered, balling your hands into fists. Despite having so much disposable power at the tips of your fingers, you felt utterly powerless.

“There are times when my abilities go out of control. I-I… I managed to erase myself from someone's memories… twice.”

Hiccups wracked through your throat as you finally let it all out, the dam that was holding you together now breaking loose. Chan wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to sob into his chest. The tears kept streaming down your face like a waterfall and you were sure you looked like a complete mess, but it felt so good to be held in someone's arms. You felt safe and protected as you held onto him, crying into his chest.

“My parents. My parents and Jeongin.”

Chan immediately knew what you were talking about as he felt his heart crack at your confession. He knew how much Jeongin meant to you and he could only assume you felt as much love for your parents too.

“Shhh, it's okay,” he whispered, pressing you closer into him. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

And for some unknown reason, you felt like he was right. You allowed yourself to indulge in the momentary feeling of peace as Chan held you in his lap, strong arms wrapped around you protectively.

“Do you think we can stay here overnight?” Jisung asked as he walked up to you with Seungmin in his arms. “Min's out of commission for today so it may be a good idea to rest here properly before we head out. We can also try to brainstorm and figure out what they mean by blue grass.”

Chan pondered, glancing around as if to make sure that the group was truly gone. “Yeah,” he sighed, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “They should be gone by now.”

“Okay, great. I’m still not sure what happened to him though but I think I must’ve drained his energy.”

As he laid the boy on the plush duvet of the neighboring bed, Chan decided that it would be nice for you guys to rearrange yourselves into a more comfortable position. He felt how you tensed in his arms when Jisung began to question what had previously occurred, his brows creasing.

“I’m really sorry for asking about this, Y/N,” he sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation, “but well… I-I’m wondering if you could tell us what exactly happened. I know this must be really hard on you, I really do, but Min has been through some tough things as well and it would help a great deal to know so we know how to react once ha wakes up.”

You held your breath, unable to prevent your lips from tugging upwards at the corners. Chan was flustered, words spilling from his mouth and you could tell how apologetic he was. If it weren’t for the fact that Seungmin was involved, he wouldn’t have pressed you about it.

But the entire situation was still too much for you to put into words. Merely thinking about it got your insides all twisted.

“Yeah,” Jisung suddenly materialized right in front of you, crouching by the bed. “I'm really sorry about this.”

“It's okay,” you sighed, looking away. Your brain was going into overdrive as it struggled to find a way to tell them what exactly had transpired without having to utter the words. Chan, noticing how you tensed, grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

And then it finally hit you—you didn't have to tell them anything.

You could show them.

Taking a deep breath, your free hand reached out to grab Jisung's, the boy glancing at you with a quirked brow before he smacked his lips in understanding. “This will feel a little weird,” you warned before plunging them into the depths of your own memories, concentrating on steering them towards today's events.

Chan felt like he was walking on a cloud, slivers of your memories flashing before his eyes. He saw you laughing with your mom, riding your bike with your dad, and celebrating your birthday at your grandma's.

Those were the happy ones. The recollections that you seemed to treasure and keep close to your heart. He subconsciously smiled at the thought, enjoying the fact that he could see you so young, so joyful, and full of life.

But there was a clear moment that broke through the peaceful calmness and tranquility. Chan saw red. You were crying, sobbing even, as you were dragged away from your parents and thrown into a school bus with a few dozen other kids. You looked barely ten, he noted.

All the reminiscence onwards was from camp. To his horror, he realized that the nickname ‘hell on earth’ didn't do West Creek any justice. Inferno would be more fitting. Yet amongst the traumatic memories, Chan was surprised to have found a few that seemed to help you through these tough times.

He saw a boy, maybe a year or two younger than himself, eat lunch with you. The same boy would later reappear in a few of your other memories, always donning a bright yellow jumpsuit and always smiling.

And then he saw pain. You were crying as Jeongin looked at you with lifeless eyes as he uttered a question that chilled Chan to the bone.

“Who are you?”

And judging by the way you began crying, Chan knew that from this moment onward, you'd truly despise the power you possessed.

All of these recollections passed through them like a whirlwind, in reality taking mere seconds as opposed to the long minutes it felt like for the two boys. Your grip on their arms tightened when you finally reached today.

Chan saw himself bid goodbye both to your half-asleep body and Seungmin, ruffling his hair as he went off to search for Jisung. As soon as he saw himself round the corner, he spotted the group of guys walk in. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding in when he confirmed that Jeno wasn't in the forefront of the group.

But the scene that unfolded before his very own eyes (well, not really…) was so mind-boggling he balled his hand into a fist. Seungmin had just gone to get you a bottle of water after you had quietly asked him, your throat feeling unusually parched.

In the meantime, the leader of the group made his way to you from behind, his hand sliding down your shoulder causing you to gasp. You whipped your head, flinching when your eyes met.

“What do you want?” you croaked, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. The gears in your head were spinning as you struggled to think of what to do. You shivered when you saw the hungry look in his eyes, feeling disgusted as you watched his gaze drop down from your face as he checked you out.

While you were laying in a bed. Sick. Because of him.

“Oh, nothin' really, sweetheart,” he mumbled, tracing his finger down your arm. “I just wanted to talk. It's been a while since I've had the honor of speaking to someone as pretty as you”

A vein popped on your forehead as you grumbled, “I wonder why. Now scram, I don't have anything to talk to you about.”

His brows furrowed when he heard the frustration apparent in your tone. “Anger doesn't really suit you, you know. You should come join us, I'm sure you'd have a lot more fun without those losers,” he whispered into your ear, his hand lowering to your hip. “I guarantee it.”

“Enough,” you protested, shooting him a glare. With enough force, you were able to tear yourself away from him, smacking his hand away in the process.

“Seungmin!” you called for the boy who had just appeared from around the corner, a bottle of water firmly clutched in his hands. “It's okay,” you tried to reassure him, noticing the fear in his eyes. “Go get Chan and Jisung. We're getting out of here.”

He nodded hastily, scrambling to get your friends but the boy behind you shouted, “grab him, Seojoon!”

Your eyes widened when said boy sprinted towards Seungmin, curling his palm to lift him in the air. ‘A Blue,’ you realized. And a pretty damn strong one too.

Seungmin struggled, trying to hold on to one of the shelves but he wasn't strong enough to resist the pull. You watched in horror, calling for them to stop but Seojoon merely laughed in response. In a last-ditch effort though, Seungmin's hand managed to graze one of the old lamps on the ceiling, sending a firework of sparks into the air.

“I wouldn't do that again if I were you,” he warned Seungmin, the boy curling into a small ball as he was brought back down, straight into Seojoon's arms. He made a quick work of restraining him, ignoring your protests.

“That's enough,” you shouted, lunging forward, your arm extending. You let out a satisfying hum when you managed to grip onto his arm, slowly beginning to sink into his head…

It took you a minute or so to come back to reality.

You didn't even realize you were crying. Silent sobs wracked through your body as Chan rocked you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Shhh, everything will be okay,” he mumbled, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “I won't let anyone hurt you.”

You sniffled into his shirt, calming your breathing. “I-I'm sorry, I think I ruined your shirt.”

“It's okay,” Chan chuckled, grinning. “I couldn't care less, darlin'.”

A sudden loud clang caused you jump in Chan's hold, eyes widening as you nervously looked over his shoulder.

“Jisung?” Chan exclaimed in disbelief, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jisung grumbled, allowing his hand to fall back down by his side, clenched into a fist. He had just knocked over all the contents off a shelf which caused the loud echoing noise.

“I'm just fucking pissed.”

“I can tell,” Chan sighed, rubbing his temples, “but that doesn't mean you should go destroy things. You could wake up Seungmin.”

Jisung stared at him, completely bewildered, his mouth twitching. “Are you fucking serious? How can you be so calm after what they did? You should be— you should be fucking livid!”

Irritation flooded through Chan's veins as he glared at his friend, unable to comprehend why the usually calm and rational Jisung was reacting in such a way. It's not that he didn't understand where he was coming from, far from it. Chan was furious. But at this point, aggravation wouldn't do them any good.

“Look, Ji,” he mumbled, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. “I understand how you feel. Trust me, the sole thing I regret in my life the most is not bashing in their skulls. But there's nothing we can do now. Our best course of action is to get a good sleep and make sure something like that doesn't happen again, okay?”

Jisung's eyes darted from Seungmin to you, his expression softening slightly. He exhaled, propping his forehead against the well before he murmured, “seems like you're the voice of reason for once, Chan.”

Gently pushing yourself away from Chan's chest, you jumped off of his lap, walking towards Jisung. “Hey,” you placed your hand on his shoulder. He turned around, his eyes glassy. “Y-Yeah?”

“I really appreciate your concern, Jisung. It's heartwarming to see how much your care about your friends, but you shouldn't worry yourself so much. Seungmin and I will be okay, alright?”

He smiled at you from under his lashes, whispering, “Sung. You can call me Sung.”

“Okay. Now, how about we put our heads together and figure out what blue grass they're talking about, Sung?”

He grinned, peering at you from under his lashes. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

𝚡𝟷𝟹𝚡

“Ugh, I'm so done,” you groaned, slamming your head against the table. From next to you, Chan chuckled, patting your pack. “Patience is a virtue, darlin'.”

You shot him a glare, mumbling, “patience my ass. You were just complaining a few minutes ago about how much you hate them for leaving us such a stupid riddle.”

“She is right,” Jisung chimed, grinning when Chan scowled.

The three of you have been sitting around the table closest to Seungmin's bed for a few hours now but to you, it felt like a lifetime. You were straining your neck to peer at the paper placed in the middle, filled with messy notes and scribbles. To be fair, it was hard to keep things organized when the only thing you had was a Hello Kitty notepad and a green crayon.

“Look,” Jisung muttered, grabbing hold of the colored crayon. “He was under Y/N's powers, right? So whatever he said must be true. And if that's the case, then we should take ‘blue grass’ at face value. I highly doubt that it's some sort of overcomplicated metaphor that the two of you are making it out to be.”

As if to accentuate his words, he circled the word ‘blue’, adding another note. “Don't you see it?”

Chan exhaled through his teeth, his hand that was propping up his chin suddenly falling to his side. “But that doesn't explain where's the blue grass in the first place. I, for one, am only familiar with the green one.”

“I know,” Jisung rolled his eyes at the snarkiness, “but that doesn't mean that there can't be blue grass under some specific circumstances.”

You sat by the table in silence, each one of you lost in their own little world as you explored different theories. The gears in your head were spinning, and you were beginning to feel dizzy, the exhaustion from prior today slowly catching up with you.

Chan noticed you dozing off when your head lolled to the side, your hair brushing against his shoulder. He slowly propped you up, declaring, “we should probably go to sleep now. Hopefully, after a proper rest, we can look at it with a fresh set of eyes.”

“Okay,” Jisung replied with the crayon in between his teeth, brows furrowed as he focused on the paper in front of him. “I'll call it quits in a few.”

𝚡𝟷𝟺𝚡

You woke up to the loud sound of snoring, shuffling under the covers till you were face to face with a sleeping Chan. Heat rose to your cheeks as you watched his chest rise and fall, his plush lips gently parted and oh-so inviting for you to just press a kiss to.

But you managed to ignore the feeling nagging inside of your chest, instead stretching your limbs with a groan. It was nice to finally sleep on a proper bed.

“Is it mornin' already?” Chan suddenly rasped, his morning voice a lot deeper than usual. But why did it manage to send shivers down your spine?

“Morning, sleepy,” you giggled, ruffling his fluffy hair. “I'm not really sure what time it is but the Sun is rising.”

“We should probably get going then,” he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. You nearly cooed when he began blinking, chasing away the sleep from his eyes. He looked up at you, a delicate smile plastered on his lips.

“Do you know where's Jisung?” you suddenly asked, straining your head to look over the sea of beds. Seungmin was on the one behind you, still curled up in the sheets, but Jisung was nowhere to be found.

Chan shot up, limbs tangled in between the covers as he swept his eyes across the room. And true to your word, he didn't see him.

“Shit!”

“Bring Seungmin,” he mumbled, tumbling out of bed. “I'll go check in the van.”

When you managed to drag a drowsy Seungmin into the parking lot, you could hear loud voices arguing. You peeked into the inside of the van, spotting Jisung and Chan sprawled on the floor.

“Thank God,” you breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid something happened to you for a second there.”

“Y/N!” Jisung shouted, your name rolling off his tongue in excitement. His bright eyes were peering at you with way too much joy despite it being so early in the morning. Yet what worried you the most were the prominent dark circles under his eyes.

“Geez,” you frowned, “you look like you haven't gotten a wink of sleep.”

“Oh well,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as guilt washed over his features. “I kinda pulled an all-nighter.”

Chan glared at him, his hand jerking beside his side. He looked about two seconds away from conking him in the head. Instead, he settled on mumbling, “idiot.”

Shuffling through a stack of paper, Jisung pulled out a map, placing it on the floor of the van and smoothing out the folds and creases. He turned to face you, excitement pooling in his eyes.

“But I think I may have figured out where Yellow Wood is,” he grinned, before adding, “oh, well… at least the general area.”

Your brows shot up as you plopped onto the ground, pulling Seungmin into your lap.

“Please do share. You've piqued my interest.”

“Okay. So basically, I was thinking about yesterday's conversation. I firmly believe that you can't really come up with any cunning metaphors under an Orange's influence so I took his words at face value.”

He pointed to the words ‘blue grass’ boldly written in the middle of the paper. “I chose that as my starting point.”

He lifted his eyes, catching your gaze as a mysterious smile played on his lips. You glanced back at Chan, noticing that his chin was propped by the palm of his hand as he stared at Jisung, a blank expression on his face.

“So I stumbled upon a chemistry book in the literature aisle at the store so I began reading through it,” he continued, pulling out an old book that was nearly falling apart at the seam. “And coincidentally, I happened to come across a chapter about grass. Specifically, about how heat affects its appearance.”

“Are you trying to say that we should look for the hottest region?” Chan questioned, scooting closer to Jisung so he could look over his shoulder. The boy shrugged, turning the page.

“Not necessarily. You see, there are actually multiple things that could trigger grass discoloration and cause it to turn it a shade that resembles a metallic blue. And you know where all these correlations meet?”

“Here!” his finger pointed to the bright red circle on the map. “It all comes together in the Southeast Hills wasteland!”

“I-I,” you tugged your lip between your teeth. “I don't understand. Why Southeast Hills?”

“All the circumstantial evidence points to it! First of all, we have an abnormal drought in the area—and dry soil contributes greatly to this phenomenon. Secondly, when you look at the location,” his index finger ran over the map, pointing to the blob of sandy yellow, “you can immediately tell that it couldn't be any better. A vast land that's basically just forests and fields, and get this, not a single government body or camp in sight.”

“Okay,” the word rolled down Chan's tongue slowly as he licked his lips. “That all looks pretty promising, Sung, but I still feel like it isn't definitive enough for us to be sure…”

Jisung smiled, the expression not fully reaching his eyes as he flipped through the book, stopping at one of the last pages. All three of you bent over in anticipation, hanging on his lips.

“You see that's what I told myself too,” he quipped, a certain intensity to his tone, “but then I found this. It's an article from over forty years ago about a chemical spill that happened during the Cold War. There was a disaster at a nearby power plant that resulted in the entire area being contaminated by a chemical often referred to as ‘myrtille’ which means blueberry in french. And can you tell why?”

He paused, glancing over the three of you, a grin appearing on his face. “Because of its coloring properties.”

The van was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your mouth was parted in awe as you stared at Jisung, still in shock from his revelation. Chan was just as bewildered as you were, if not more, and you could nearly see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to put all the puzzle pieces together.

“So… do you believe me now, guys?” Jisung suddenly spoke up, grinning proudly as he watched your jaws drop.

Then, Chan broke out into a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows, “I think we know our destination now.”

The four of you returned to grab all the supplies you've gathered, storing them in the back of the van as you hit the highway, cheers and laughter spilling from your lips.

“Let's carpe the hell out of this diem!”

𝚡𝟷𝟻𝚡

Your arrival at Yellow Wood was something you'd never forget. After three days of driving across the country, almost getting caught by skip tracers twice, Chan finally pulled up by the old road sign with the words ‘Southeast Hills’.

The four of you jumped out of the vehicle, Chan pulling the doors shut as you examined the vast, unkempt meadow. Planes and planes of wildflowers, tousled grass, and greenery stretched in front of your eyes, the thick blades having grown tall enough to obstruct most of the barbwire fence that fringed the wasteland.

“Look!” Jisung called out, pointing to the sign. “This is it! W-We're here!”

And true to his word, someone carved out the words ‘Yellow Wood’ right under the name.

“Holy shit!” Chan whispered, still in shock. “We actually made it.”

As if on cue, a dozen or so figures emerged from the bushes, all dressed head to toe in military gear with weapons in their hands. Although your first instinct was to panic and run back into the van, Chan grabbed your hand, pulling you into his side.

“No way! Is that you, mate?” one of the guys stepped forward, letting his AR-15 drop to the ground as he briskly walked up to Chan, drawing him into a hug. “You've bulked up!”

Chan chuckled at his words, patting his back with a smile. “Nice to see you, Sangyeon! Who knew we'd cross paths so soon.”

Sangyeon walked up to Jisung, embracing him as well before picking up Seungmin into his arms and twirling him around. “Hey, bud. How's it going?”

You watched the exchange with nothing but fondness in your eyes, the edges of your mouth curving into a sad smile. After Sangyeon finished greeting the three, he turned around to face you, an odd twinkle in his eyes.

“I see that you've managed to pick someone up along the way.”

“Yeah,” Chan grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist. “This is Y/N, we met and scooped her up as we were running from some PSFs. She escaped from West Creek. Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He was one of our friends back in camp.”

“Hey,” you shook his hand, suddenly feeling shy from all the eyes looking straight at you. You weren't used to the attention, a bashful smile on your lips. “Nice to meet you.”

His grip was firm, you noted, and he had warm brown eyes. The watched you intently as he let go of your hand, bringing it to his mouth and whistling.

“All right, everyone. They're cleared.”

And then like the Red sea, everyone stepped back, creating a pathway for you to go in. It felt nervewracking to walk into an establishment with a barbed wire running across its border when you had just bent over backward to escape from one.

Chan must've noticed the way your hand lightly trembled because in no time, he placed his palm over yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

“I have to take you to the boss first,” Sangyeon spoke as he led you through the camp, sucking on a lollipop as he greeted all the passing kids. “He's been dying to see you.”

“No way,” Chan gloated, “the Slip Kid wants to talk to us?”

Sangyeon released the lolly with a ‘pop’ before shoving his hands into his pocket. “Yeah. He's been especially excited to finally meet another Orange.”

Your mouth parted in shock, muttering, “this can't be. The Slip Kid's an Orange too?”

“Yeah. and a damn good one at that! C'mon, it's time for you to meet him.”

𝚡𝟷𝟼𝚡

The rest of the day passed by like a whirlwind, and before you could even register it, the Sun began to set.

The four of you were welcomed to Yellow Wood rather warmly, and you immediately noted that the way things were run here was a lot smoother than in any of the government camps. Everyone had their own responsibilities—their own little obligations to fulfill. Yet not a single person you passed by seemed unhappy.

On the contrary, everyone was joyful and full of life. It was almost too good to be true.

Meeting the Slip Kid was also an experience in and of itself. You should have known—it was ironic how you instantly recognized him, even though you've never actually seen him in your entire life.

But you were surrounded by posters of his younger self for the past six years, haunted by his lifeless eyes and pale skin.

Yet now, he seemed to be glowing.

Hwang Hyunjin was just as handsome in person as you would've expected.

His dewy skin glowed under the fluorescent lamp hanging in the middle of his room, his hair had grown out, dark brown tips now reaching his shoulders, and most importantly, his cherry lips were as plump as ever, still the same shade of pink.

“No way,” Jisung gasped, taking a step back. “You're the Slip Kid? B-But you're Hwang's son—”

“Nu-uh, save your inquiries for later,” Hyunjin tutted, pushing himself upwards into a standing position. “There's a lot I'd like to discuss with you.”

He then walked up to you, placing his hand on your shoulder as he scanned your face, smiling brightly as his eyes turned into little crescent moons. “I've heard a lot about you. You're Y/N, right?”

You were in shock, your entire body tensed as it refused to move a muscle. The way he was looking at you… it was weirdly unsettling and you weren't entirely sure why. You felt like you were stripped naked in front of him, vulnerable… almost as if he could see into your head and share your thoughts.

And then it hit you. He could.

Calmly, you grabbed his hand, gently taking it off your shoulder. “Yeah, that's me. How could you've heard anything about me though?”

“Oh,” he laughed, the sound dripping from his lips like honey. “I have my ways. I know everything, you know? Especially if it concerns the last undetected Orange.”

Then he turned around to face Chan, “ah. I know you too! You're Chris Bang, right? The most wanted kid in the country.”

When Chan refused to answer, his hand reached nack to pick up a stack of papers from the desk, rearranging them in his hands. “I must say, you guys will be a great addition to the team. We've been in dire need of a strong Blue.”

Turning around, you noticed the way Jisung shuffled his feet, heat rising to his cheeks as he looked away, clearly embarrassed. He must've been uncomfortable to be completely ignored and disregarded by Hyunjin, almost like he wasn't wanted here in the first place.

“See, they're offering a real' fortune for whoever brings you in.”

Chan scoffed, rolling his eyes at his words. He didn't like him, that was for sure. Hyunjin, who must've sensed the unease, placed the heap of papers back on the table as he gave Chan a mischievous smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I must ask the three of you to wait outside for a few minutes. I'd like to discuss something in private with Y/N.”

Frowning, Chan looked him up and down, an unreadable expression playing on his lips. He still didn't want to let go of your hand and leave you alone with Hyunjin, but there was nothing he could do. He threw the taller boy a glare as he walked out of the room, Jisung and Seungmin following suit.

But before the door could slam in his face, he turned around, catching your gaze. The way his mouth quirked, you could tell what he was trying to convey.

‘Don't worry. I'll be outside, waiting…’

And the door slammed.

𝚡𝟷𝟽𝚡

Hyunjin's words were still echoing in your head as you walked out of the small building. The sunlight streaming through the cracks of the wooden rooftop illuminated your face, casting a gentle glow on your skin.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Chan whose back was against the wall, looking up at the sky with his eyes closed. It looked like he was soaking up the sunlight, relishing in the rare moment of peace and tranquility.

“Hey, how did it go?”

Plopping on the ground next to where he was standing, you sighed, “I think it went okay. He asked me if he could train me though, as in like… help me hone my abilities.”

Chan's brows furrowed as he looked down at you, pulling his hands out of his pockets before sitting down beside you. “Isn't that a good thing though? I mean—you can already do some awesome shit but I can imagine how much your skills would improve if you had some guidance?”

When he noticed your skeptical expression, he elaborated, “trust me, I've been in your shoes before, unaware of all the things I could do before someone senior offered to help me.”

“I see your point,” you mumbled, casting your gaze into your lap, “but I'm still trying to finger out if what I'm doing is even morally acceptable. I need to know where to draw the line… how far can I go without being a monster?”

“Y/N,” Chan sighed, grabbing both your hands in his as he looked you in the eye. “You're not a monster, okay? And you never will be if you're simply protecting yourself. We all have to make do with what we have whether we've got the ability to slip into someone's mind, hurl a truck at them, or outsmart them with our super brain.”

You giggled at his reply, feeling a little better after hearing his reassuring words. “Thank you, Chan,” you whispered, leaning into his side and allowing your head to drop onto his shoulder.

With your warm body so close to him, Chan felt like his heart was about to explode inside of his chest. Smiling, he scooted a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“No problem.”

And the two of you sat there in a comfortable silence until dinner was announced, neither of you wanting to get up. But then, as if on cue, your stomach let out a loud rumble, heat rising to the tips of your ears as Chan stifled a laugh, grabbing your hand and dragging your begrudging form along with him.

“C'mon. We need to feed that whale in your stomach, darlin'.”

𝚡𝟷𝟾𝚡

You've never felt so content and at peace as you did right now.

The night sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight as you watched the sunset cast a warm, golden glow. You were sitting around the massive bonfire, watching the flames lick away at the wooden planks pilled up in the middle, curled into Chan's side as his arm was wrapped tightly around your waist.

Everything felt so serene, you relished in the peace and welfare that Yellow Wood had so far offered you. Everyone seems so happy here, and it shocked you to no end how they managed to create such an atmosphere where you momentarily forgot about everything going on outside the fenced-in walls that guarded this place.

Almost as if the camps didn't exist in the first place — as if the Choi disease had never happened…

When the music started playing, everyone suddenly got up, beginning to dance to the summery track. You smiled—the mood was great, everybody clearly having a good time. If you could, you'd stop time and stay in this moment forever.

“C'mon, dance with me,” Chan grinned, standing up. He extended his hand towards you, like a true gentleman, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Would you do me the honors?”

Your eyes widened, you had to fight the urge to look back and make sure he wasn't talking to anyone else, before pointing at yourself with a shaky finger. “M-Me? You want to dance with me?”

Chan placed his hands on his hips, pretending to be deep in thought. “No. Actually, I wanted to dance with that really jacked dude that's standing a few feet behind you.”

“Hey!” you swatted his arm playfully, nervously biting your lip. “Stop being sarcastic all the time.”

“I'm sorry,” he broke out into a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “You're just so easy to tease,”

You looked up, heat rising to your cheeks when you saw the lingering anticipation on his handsome face, the signature dimples appearing making an appearance. It was nearly impossible to say no to him, but for some reason, you were too anxious to come join him, instead murmuring, “I'm a terrible dancer. The last time I tried was on my ninth birthday.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the evening breeze grazing your skin.

“It's okay,” Chan replied, gently carrying you through the sea of bodies, his movements precise and controlled. “I can lead.”

“C-Chan!”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he lowered you into his arms with a flick of his wrist, his hand gently settling on your waist as he began to sway to the music. “I-I… nevermind…” you whispered, everything in your head going blank.

The simmering air around you, combined with the heat from the flames, made your muscles turn into mush. If you could press pause and stay in a single moment for the rest of your life, it would be now.

“You okay now, darlin'?” he reached to brush the hair from your face, his thumb grazing against your lips.

“Yeah. Better than ever.”

Your fingers found the bare skin of his forearms, gently tracing the muscles and the overlying veins. His skin was so soft, save for the few bruises and scratches that decorated it. When his hand slid under your shirt, gently rubbing your lower back, you felt like your knees were about to buckle under your weight.

His hands were so warm and wide and his touch was electrifying. Almost as if a current passed through you, you shivered, pressing yourself closer to him.

As the melody of the track thumped through your body, Chan's steady hand managed to safely maneuver you through the heaps of people. The entire time, his gaze was fixed on you, eyes gazing into yours.

“God,” he murmured, strengthening his grip on your waist.

“What?”

“Did you know that you sometimes make me forget how to breathe?” he blew out a shaky breath, his facade crumbling right in front of your eyes.

“I'm looking at you and it's like the only thought inside of my head is how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart was beating inside of your ribcage and when you felt his breath fan over your cheek, you looked up at him and whispered, “so why don't you do it?”

And that's all the motivation Chan needed; his hand cupping the back of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, sealing them with a kiss.

Chan was a great kisser, you've deduced that from the grand total of two times that the two of you had kissed. His lips molded against yours perfectly, finding the ideal rhythm and pace.

When the two of you parted, you both had the dumbest smiles, giggles spilling from your lips.

“Wanna do that again?” his voice was shaky, still out of breath.

You grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder and pulling him closer to you. “Yeah, I'd love that.”

So Chan dove right back in, devouring your lips with his own as everything around you faded, leaving you to focus only on each other and the oxytocin coursing through your bodies.

𝚡𝟷𝟿𝚡

Your nerves were tingling as your hand reached for the doorknob. You weren't too excited to meet Hyunjin again, to be completely honest, but you knew it had to be done. Chan was right—honing your skills was important.

Plus, there also came the added bonus of Hyunjin agreeing to search through his network for Jeongin if you allowed him to train you…

It was oddly quiet and you wondered if he was even inside. Your question was answered when as soon as you knocked on the door, Hyunjin slammed it open.

He smiled breathlessly, his eyes turning into little crescent moons as he let you in, flushing when he realized that he was still in his PJs.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking down at the oversized t-shirt and Garfield shorts. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment but relaxed when he heard you giggle.

“It's okay, your shorts are kinda cute.”

You thanked him for holding the door open for you and walked inside. Looking around the room, you noticed the array of photos hanging on his wall—lots from his childhood and some that were more recent.

“We can sit on the bed,” he motioned towards the back of the room, leading you before settling on the springy mattress. You took off your shoes before joining him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Okay so the first thing I'd like to say is that you can ease your nerves, there's no need to be nervous or scared.”

Slowly, you unclenched your fists, not even realizing how tensed your muscles were. “S-Sorry.”

“It's okay—we're learning here. No need to apologize.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “one of the most important things when it comes to getting out abilities under control is learning how they work. You need to know how to fight the intrusion if you want any hope of being able to do so safely and without any accidents.”

You shivered at his words, remembering the times when you erased yourself from the minds of your loved ones. Hyunjin, noticing your distress, reached to grab both your hands in his.

“It happened to you before, didn't it?”

You could tell that he knew as he gave you a look of pity and understanding. Almost as if he'd been through it too, eradicating himself from the consciousness of someone close to him.

“Y-Yeah. Twice…”

Hyunjin cursed under his breath softly, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “You're not alone. I had done it too back when I didn't even know what it meant to be an Orange.”

You smiled, anguish written all over your face as you whispered, “it sucks, doesn't it?”

“Yeah. And I'll make sure it'll never happen to you again.”

The first exercise Hyunjin gave you was to block him out of your mind when he tried to slip into your memories. It sounded like a simple task, but in reality, you felt completely powerless when you felt him clawing at your precious consciousness.

“Build a wall around yourself, Y/N,” his voice managed to reach you, although you felt like you were slipping underwater, your mind foggy. “You need a visualization. Imagine there's a wall, curtain, door… or frankly any sort of barrier between the two of us.”

You frowned, closing your eyes as you swallowed down the ball of spit that had formed in your throat. You needed to focus.

Slowly, you began to picture a wooden door towering in front of you. In your mind, you forced yourself to extend your hand, pulling the door shut and turning the key. And bit by bit, you felt Hyunjin's intrusion fade out, no longer sensing the obtrusive presence of someone else in your head. The vulnerability you felt also disappeared as you gained some confidence after your successful defense, smiling to yourself.

“Good job!” Hyunjin cheered, positively beaming at the sight. “You've managed to do it on your first try! That's quite impressive.”

“Oh stop it,” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck. “I'm sure went easy on me.”

The guilty smile that appeared on his lips made you chuckle. “I didn't really go easy on you, per se… I just didn't fight back too much when you began to push me out. But it's important for you to get a feel of how it's like to fight off the intrusion, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. But it was pretty exhausting to do if I'm being honest.”

Shuffling his legs, he threw them off the edge of the bed before answering. “It always is when you try it for the first time. But soon, it'll feel like second nature to you, so don't worry, okay?”

You nodded, joining him at the edge of the bed as you gazed outside the window, smiling when you saw everyone running around and having. A comfortable silence enveloped you, and from the corner of your eye, you caught Chan in the group, settled on one side of the beach volleyball field as he tossed the ball in the air and sent it flying over the net.

You silently cheered, a large grin appearing on your face as you followed the game intently, trying not to waver as Chan slipped his shirt off mid-game, continuing to play without it. Hyunjin chuckled when he saw your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You can go watch them play, you know? We're done for today.”

Nearly jumping in your seat, you turned to him, embarrassment written all over your face when you realized that he caught you staring at Chan. “O-Okay. I'll head out then. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” he simpered, waving you off. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

𝚡𝟸𝟶𝚡

The following few days you stuck to the same routine, focusing on resting and your training with Hyunjin. He had insisted that you weren't assigned any job yet so as a result, you had quite a lot of free time.

Today, you woke up a little bit earlier than usual, the sun filtering through the wooden planks of the small sleeping cabin you were assigned. Stretching your arms above your head, you yawned, throwing your legs over the bed and walking out into the morning sun.

“Good morning, Sung,” you plopped down next to the boy, patting him on the shoulder.

“Mornin'.”

The tone of his voice immediately set off alarm bells in your head as you turned around to face him, barely catching a glimpse of the pained expression on his face. He looked like he hadn't slept at all if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by.

“You okay, buddy? You don't exactly look like you're happy…”

“I'm fine,” Jisung groaned, burying his head in between his legs.”I'm just… uh… I don't even know, honestly. I've been feeling pretty weird ever since we got here.”

“How come?” you inquired, your heart breaking at the sight. It was unusual to see Jisung so sad. Sure, he could get grumpy quite often, but you had never seen him so… so miserable.

“It's just that…” he blew out a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair. “I feel so… lonely here. Like I'm not even welcome. Almost no one here's a Green—which of course makes sense—we're least likely to escape from camp since we both don't have the powers nor are we in such imminent danger as the others—”

“Jisung,” you gently cut him off mid-ramble, cupping his cheek. “Look at me; it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself in such detail every time, okay? Just tell me why you're feeling down.”

“I just feel like there's no place for me here…”

“Hey,” the word came out shakier than you'd hoped it would, but you brushed it off, looking him in the eye. “There's always a place for you, alright? And even if it's not here, you'll always have us, remember? I care about you, Ji, I really do… Chan would die for you, and Seungmin… you're his hero, don't you see that?”

Your heart nearly cracked when you heard him sniffle. Jisung blushed, wiping his face into the sleeve of his hoodie and turning away from you in embarrassment. “Don't look at me,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I've gotta go now, Sung,” you sprang up, sending him a quick thumbs-up before trudging away. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Jisung whispered, wiping away the tears from his face. “See ya!”

𝚡𝟸𝟷𝚡

On your way to Hyunjin, you passed Chan by the soccer field, your heart rate quickening at the sight. He was, once again, surrounded by at least a dozen of people, laughing as he effortlessly passed the ball while managing to stay focused and converse with the person on his right.

Your chest tightened uncomfortably. While you had always assumed that Chan was the popular and outgoing type, you were shocked nonetheless to see how quickly he had managed to form his own little group of friends in less than a week.

Honestly, you couldn't help the pang of jealousy blossoming inside you.

You were looking forward to today's lesson; Hyunjin had promised you that he'd teach you how to undo the memory erasure—something that you desperately wanted to learn…

There was also the added bonus of his laptop sitting in the middle of his desk. It was the only technological device that could connect you with the outside world in the entire camp.

The lesson passed by in a blur, your mind still foggy as Hyunjin handed you a glass of water, patting you on the back.

“It's okay, you did well,” he praised, rubbing comforting circles onto your back as you gulped down the beverage. “It's a bit more complicated, especially since you don't have anyone to try it on…”

“I'm okay, don't worry,” you reassured him with a smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I'm just a bit out of breath, that's all.”

In the meantime, Hyunjin had walked up to his desk, plopping on the chair. He powered up his laptop, the shiny logo appearing on the screen illuminating his face.

“I got an email from one of my contacts in the morning,” he suddenly spoke up, catching your gaze. “I figured I should wait for you to read it though—it's about Jeongin.”

You tensed, feeling all the muscles in your body lock as you positioned yourself behind Hyunjin so that you were looking over his shoulder.

You felt your breath hitch when he clicked on the attachment, impatiently tapping your foot against the ground when the document lagged. When it finally loaded, you began skimming over the text, your frown deepening with every word that you read.

Towards the end, your eyes widened in disbelief, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you let out a shaky breath, clenching your fists.

“N-No… t-this can't be. I don't believe it!” you shouted as your eyes began to water. Hyunjin slowly stood up, a frown on his face as he rubbed your shoulder. “I'm really sorry…”

“I refuse to believe this,” you sniffed, not caring anymore that you looked pathetic with puffy eyes and watery cheeks. “This is not the Jeongin I know… he'd never do anything like this!”

“Y/N, I'm sorry but it's the truth and you need to accept it,” Hyunjin tried to grip your hand in hopes of comforting you but you tore it away, glaring at him. “How do you want me to accept that there's a fucking ten million dollar bounty placed on his head? And not only that!” you choked out, pointing a shaky finger at the screen and at the note under the ransom.”

“Dear or alive… they fucking offered 10 million for his corpse, for fuck's sake!”

With that, you stormed off, ignoring Hyunjin's pleas as you let the door slam behind you. You ran through the fields, stepping over the campfire site, sniffling at the thought of Jeongin. You were still in shock from what Hyunjin's email had contained.

It felt like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, you felt broken… miserable. All you wanted to do was just bury your head under your pillow and pretend that the last ten minutes of your life had never happened. But now that you knew, you couldn't just ignore it.

Jeongin's life was in grave danger now that the bounty had been listed on the skip tracer network… it was only a matter of time before they'd all start looking for him, tracking him all over the country. His listing had beaten the previous highest ransom by a longshot—all the skip tracers who were focusing on Chan would now no doubt divert their attention and go after Jeongin.

You fumbled through the bushes, wiping away your tears as you inched closer to your little hut. In all honestly, you wanted to simply pack up your scarce belongings and disappear with the wind but your prayers were cut short as you heard a pair of loud voices.

You stumbled onto the tiny clearing in front of your assigned cottage, eyes blown wide as you watched Chan and Jisung engage in a very heated debate, the latter fuming with anger.

“Oh, hey, Y/N—wait, what happened?” Chan questioned, his voice cracking at the sight of you. You were a mess, to put it lightly, even Jisung frowned deeply at the sight, his eyebrows creasing.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored both of their questions, pushing past them to get through the door. There, you began to pull out all your stuff from the drawers, granted, you didn't own that many things, before shoving them into your little backpack.

“Hey, darlin', please,” you could sense the desperation in tone. “Tell me what's wrong…”

You snapped your head to face him, ready to tell him off but the words died on your tongue. Watching the different emotions flash on his face, you felt your heart softening. It wasn't his fault after all, wasn't it? He had done nothing wrong…

You hadn't even realized that you began to cry again, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hiccuped into your sleeve, embarrassed that the two got to see you in such a state. Chan immediately rushed to your side, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Shhh, it's okay,” he whispered, pulling you close to him as you sobbed into his t-shirt, no doubt staining the cotton with your tears. “Everything will be alright, don't worry.”

As cheesy as it sounded, Chan's soft reassurance and his gentle caresses managed to lull you into a state where you were able to think rationally, struggling only a little bit to get the words out of your mouth.

“I-It's Jeongin,” you murmured, hiding your head in the crook of his neck. “Hyunjin had managed to trace him.”

Gently running his hands down your sides, you felt oddly encouraged to continue, “there's a ten million dollar bounty on his head, Chan. Dead or alive…”

After uttering these words, you felt your heart constrict in your chest once again as you hiccuped. “A-And that's not even everything.”

Chan tried his best to hide his shock, not wanting to freak you out more than you already were, so he bit down his tongue to prevent the surprised gasp that threatened to leave his parted lips, instead burying his head into yours as he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“H-He's not the same person he used to be, Channie. He's turned into a monster… I-I just, ugh—” you groaned, clutching onto his shirt tightly. You were both scared and frustrated at the same time.

“He apparently escaped with some other Yellows and they formed a tribe. But the reason there's such a high bounty over his head is because t-they'd,” you choked out, unable to produce a coherent sentence.

“They began attacking supply vans and killing the drivers in the process… I can't believe it. The Jeongin I knew—he'd never do such a thing!”

“You know, sometimes, the people we once knew do unspeakable things—that's just how it is,” Chan muttered under his breath, tilting your head so that you were looking him in the eye. “You can't take responsibility for other people's actions. As much as you'd like to believe it, you never truly know what each person is thinking. They could've had a reason that drove them to resort to such extreme measures, even if we don't agree, there's always reasoning behind one's actions.”

“But taking other people's lives?” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That's not right, no matter the circumstances.”

Chan held you in his arms for a few more minutes until you calmed down, suddenly pushing him away and getting off his lap.

“Where are you going?” he asked, tone laced with panic as he watched your expression harden. You wiped away the remaining tears staining your cheeks before you got back to packing your bag.

“I'm leaving this place. I have to find Jeongin before he gets himself killed.”

There was no room for negotiation, Chan was sure of that. Behind your moist eyes blazed a fire, a strong, determined, and powerful fire that he couldn't put out. No. He had to add fuel to it for it to burn.

“We're coming with you.”

No. They couldn't. There was no way you'd allow them to go with you, no way in hell would you watch them leave the safe haven they've been dreaming about for so long.

You turned around to face him, and with lifeless eyes, you whispered, “no… you can't.”

It was more of a plea than a statement, your voice cracking terribly as you tried to control the onslaught of emotions. “Chan, please, you can't keep risking your lives for me, you know?”

“Well, you can't keep trying to run away from me. I'm not letting you go alone.”

You clutched the piece of clothing in your hand, lowering your gaze onto the ground. “I-I… t-this—this isn't gonna work, Chan…”

“Why?” his voice was suddenly louder, filled with fervor as walked up to you, grabbing your hands in his. “Give me one reason why we can't be together and I'll give you a hundred why we can. We can go anywhere you want. I'm not like your parents, I'm not going to abandon you or send you away, not ever.”

As if on cue, the door burst open, Jisung popping his head inside. “Min and I packed up our stuff. We're ready to go.”

You stared at them in disbelief, the words beginning to form at the tip of your tongue but Chan beat you to it, a grin already poking at his lips.

“See, you're not the only one that wants to leave this place. All four of us will go and help you find your friend, isn't that right?”

From the entrance, Jisung gave you a smile and Seungmin nodded aggressively, causing you to nearly tear up all over again. You were so touched that this little group of misfits that you've joined had become like family to you, willing to risk it all just to help you.

“Are you sure, guys? I-I mean… you can't take this back once you come…”

Chan slowly lifted his head and there was so much conviction in your eyes it made you dizzy. When he uttered the following words, it seemed to be the surest he'd ever been about something in his entire life.

“Let's go.”

After Chan had packed his small bag, the four of you walked out of the cabin, heading towards the main gate. A small group of kids stopped what they were doing to watch you, clearly having never witnessed people leave the camp.

When you arrived at the main gate, you were surprised to see a small group of armed people with guns slung over their shoulders clearly guarding the exit. They all tensed up when they saw you, immediately blocking your way as one of them spoke up.

“What do you want?”

Chan raised a brow, clearly not expecting any pushback. “Isn't it obvious? We're leaving.”

“That won't be possible,” another one replied icily, his hand reaching for his gun. “You need to first fill out a form and get it approved by the Slip Kid.”

“You're kidding?” Chan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You can't force us to stay here.”

Suddenly, a loud voice from behind said, “actually, we can.”

You snapped your head to look behind you, clearly taken aback. “Hyunjin? What the hell?”

The young man in question twirled a small dagger in his hand before getting a proper grip on it, looking you dead in the eye. “You see, we can't just let anybody leave this place. We have to make sure they'll actually survive out there on their own. And unless I want to be accused of being biased, I need to check for myself, don't you understand, sweetheart?”

You nearly shivered hearing the term of endearment fall from his lips. His tone was menacing and sly, nothing like the way he spoke to you for the past week.

“So unless you want this to get ugly, I suggest the four of your go back to your cabins.”

Your expression hardened as you reciprocated his intense glare. “Yeah, that's not happening.”

Turning back, your eyes immediately caught Chan's, the two of you sharing a nod. He knew what this meant—you wouldn't go down without a fight. Yellow Wood clearly wasn't the place the four of you thought it was.

A cheshire grin tugged at his lips as he cracked his knuckles.

“Give ‘em hell, darlin’!”

a/n: hello <3 tysm for reading this far. if you've enjoyed, please consider letting me know and reblogging. I've spent two months working on this fic (including the entirety of my summer break so far...). feel free to ask any questions too :3 sending you my best wishes and i hope you stay safe :>

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