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pradaksj · 3 years

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ghostin || part 2 (finale). (m.)

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ ❝Though I wish he were here instead. Don't want that living in your head, he just comes to visit me when I'm dreaming every now and then. ❞

❧ pairing⟶ seokjin/reader

❧ genre⟶ angst, angst, and angst … did i say angst? + a bit of fluff? friends to lovers.

❧ word count ⟶ 18,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ major character death! sad ending. descriptions of grieving process.

❧ part of the ⟶ thank u, next series

part 1 || part 2 (final)

“H-He did the right thing,” Jimin stutters, and you were sure he hardly even believed what was coming out of his own mouth,“What he did was selfless,”he declares.

“No he broke my grandma’s heart!” Jia scowls at Jimin, “What a jerk…” she huffs, having been fully engrossed in your story.

“No he’s right,” you say, shocking Jia, “It was an act of complete selflessness and in a sense, I applaud him for being able to do it because God knows I wouldn’t have been able to,” you sigh, “But ask yourself Jimin, in a week from now would you regret it?”

He looks as if he’s about to nod his no, until you add to your question, “How about a year? Maybe two? What about three? Just how sure are you about it?”

He remains silent.

“Tell you what Jimin,” you pause, “Only if you’re one hundred percent sure that you’d have absolutely no and I mean zero regrets about your decision then go ahead and leave,” you say, and he looks at you in a confusing manner, “You heard me, you can get up and leave right now, but,” you add emphasis to the word, “if you have even the slightest bit of a doubt, then all I ask of you is to hear this story till its end.”

Jimin, who by now had grabbed his jacket from the table in preparation to leave, now hesitated. Before you went up to him, he was so sure he wouldn’t regret it… but now after hearing a part of this story of yours… that confidence was long gone. Because if history truly was repeating itself, then he wanted to know the ending to this tale.

And so remaining in his seat, a look of determination covered his face.

“Okay then,” you mutter, ready to continue.

“That night I had cried in that diner for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until the waitress had to tell me that they’d be closing soon that I remembered I was far from Seoul, and so instead I went to my parents’ house and spent the night crying in my mom’s arms. I didn’t tell her right away, but I knew that she had known. Because honestly why else would I cry that hard.

Still though, I kept my mouth shut about it for the week that I slept over there, thinking deep down in my heart that he’d come back and tell me it was all a big mistake. Because if he did, I would’ve forgiven him. Maybe give him the silent treatment for a bit, hell even make him beg a bit, but I would’ve still forgiven him nonetheless.

When I went back to Seoul, I stayed in the same apartment. I paid the same expensive rent despite there only being one person living in there now. I stayed there because every afternoon I’d come back from work with a tiny feeling of hope that when I’d walk in, I’d find him in the kitchen like I always did after work, eating God knows what.

Sadly it never happened....

In the beginning I’d have no problem visiting my parents in their home, that continuous hopeful side in me thinking I’d be able to magically see Jin at his parent’s house.

In reality the only person I’d occasionally see was his mother, who greeted me the same way she always did, acting as if nothing happened. I’m sure Seokjin must’ve told her through a phone call, but yet like the amazing person she was, she never asked me any questions about it. Never uttered his name around me, instead asking about trivial things like my career and such.

With no update on where Seokjin was, or what he was doing, it was only a matter of time in which I’d realize that things just weren't going to play out like how I imagined them to. The charming prince in my story had truly left.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and soon months turned into years. I stopped visiting my parents house as much, and ultimately began to ask them if they could come out to Seoul to visit me rather than the other way around. As going home only served as a reminder for me of what I had lost. No… of what had left me.

And so after about two years of being single, I finally began to date people for the first time in my life, until soon enough I met someone by the name of Seojun. Though it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, it was definitely my first serious relationship since my break up with Seokjin, and slowly I really did fall in love.

I had successfully forgotten about Seokjin.

At least I thought I did ….

I guess this brings us to where our story begins to end….

1999.

“My loneliness is killing me,” you whisk the batter of the cake you were making, “and iiiii,” the shiny ring placed on your left ring finger shines even under the kitchen light, “I must confess I still believe,” you pause for a moment, “I still believe,” you horribly sing the ad-lib to Britney Spears’ chart topper of a song, “...Baby One More Time”.

Out of nowhere, the music on the radio is turned down, “I think that’s enough whisking y/n,” your mom chuckles, “any more and you’ll over mix it.”

Sighing, you follow your mom’s orders.

Today was Christmas, and like every other year, you were spending it at home with your parents. Your fiancé, Seojun, who was out of town to celebrate the holiday with his family as well, would arrive in two days. It was the best compromise the two of you could make, with the agreement that the roles would be reversed for the following year.

Taking out the baked bread she had put in an hour earlier, she immediately sets it down on the cooling rack placed on the table, “You’re going to have to take these to Mrs. Kim right now,” she mentions, while cutting the bread into slices.

Silently, you nod, ignoring the drop in your stomach that you’d feel whenever you had to interact with anything that forced you to remember him.

Despite you successfully managing to forget about him in terms of your daily life, Kim Seokjin just wasn’t someone you could ever completely forget. No matter how much you wanted to.

Wrapping parchment paper around the pieces, you help your mom tie the cute little pieces of red string around it, her belief of presentation adding to the flavor still ringing true to this day.

She inspects them one more time before placing them into the woven basket decorated with many other Christmas like things, along with the two gifts she bought for the twins, “Make sure you remind her about coming over tomorrow with the kids.”

Nodding, you place your coat on and begin to make your way out, “And tell her I said Merry Christmas!”

Making a motion with your hand that you heard her well, you close the door before she can add anything else.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Ah y/n,” Mrs. Kim greets, pulling you in for a hug, “Merry Christmas,” she says.

“Merry Christmas Mrs. Kim,” you smile at her, handing her the basket.

“Come in, come in,” she insists, and reluctantly you do, “I swear everytime I see you it feels like I’m only getting older,” she chuckles, “You don’t want something to drink? Maybe some wine—”

Laughing at her enthusiasm, you say “It’s fine Mrs. Kim,” while looking around the place. She had done an amazing job at decorating this year, not like she never did, “Where’s Mr. Kim?” you ask in curiosity.

“Ah he’s not coming till later, had some paperwork he wanted to finish up at work,” she explains, and you nod in understanding.

“Merry Christmas!” two voices simultaneously yell, and immediately you're met with a giant hug from the two twins.

Eyes widening at how big they had gotten, a smile covers your face, “Now I’m the one who feels like I’m getting old,” you comment, resulting in Mrs. Kim to laugh.

The two, who had to be at least 13 years old by now, were definitely going through the phases of puberty by now.

Ruffling their hair, you recall how baby-faced they once were, only imagining how different they’d look in a couple years time.

Minjun, who now sported braces, was the first to speak, “Woah, it feels like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

Yeonha adds on, “Yeah! You’ve gotten so….” she stops herself from continuing, but you know what she wants to say.

“Old,” you finish for her, pretending to be angry by placing your hands on your hips.

She awkwardly laughs, scratching her neck, a habit she must’ve picked up from her older brother, “Of course not!” she tries to play it off.

“I’m only 25, turning 26 in a couple of weeks if you really wanna be specific, but that doesn’t make me old little lady!” you scold.

She raises her hands to her defense, while Minjun comes to her rescue, “I think the word she was looking for was mature,” he says, “I mean you’re dressed like those office ladies we see on TV,” and you’re unsure if the comparison was supposed to be a good or bad thing, but nevertheless you change the topic, not wanting to fluster them any more than they already were.

“So any gifts you two are wanting this year?” and immediately Yeonha’s face lights up at the question.

Eagerly she nods her head, “I think Santa,” she sends her mom a mischievous look, “is getting me a new beeper this Christmas,”

Mrs. Kim playfully rolls her eyes.

“Santa heard from a little birdy that your old beeper wasn’t stolen, but got dropped in water,” Mrs. Kim comments, and immediately Yeonha’s face pales.

She turns to her twin brother and smacks him in shoulder, “Hey!” he yelps, “it wasn’t me!” he scowls, “It was probably Jin,” and even by a single utter of his name, you feel your heart begin to race, “I swear, it’s like you purposely forget what you tell him on the phone sometimes,” Minjun continues to ramble on, clearly upset by the accusation of being the snitch.

“I think I should get going,” you suddenly interrupt.

“Oh but you just got here,” Mrs. Kim says, failing to notice why you were suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Yeah!” Yeonha adds for support, “Jin’s supposed to get here any second now,” she wiggles her brows, even after all these years, still clearly unaware of the circumstances for your breakup.

Mrs. Kim looks surprised at Yeonha’s sudden announcement, “He was supposed to get here at 8,” she mumbles, a wave of guilt washing over her.

You send her a sympathetic look, knowing that it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable position, “I’ll see you all soon, I promise,” you say, and Mrs. Kim now barely notices the ring on your finger. A subtle gasp escaping from her lips.

With your hand on the handle, you begin to open the door, “And Merry Christm—”

Stomach dropping at the sight in front of you, you feel as if a semi-truck had hit you, rendering you at a loss for words, “Y-Y/N?”

The first thing you notice about him is the length of his hair. It seemed as if he had grown it back into the mullet he first had when you met him, only this time it suited the mature aura he seemed to have.

Dressed in a black turtleneck, matched with black pants and dress shoes, you weren’t sure if you were in shock because he was right in front of you for the first time in nearly 3 years or because of how easy it was for him to get your heart racing.

It was weird really, despite his change in appearance, for some reason even now you were sure that he was still the same old Seokjin you’d always known.

Noting that you’d been staring at him in silence for quite a while, you finally manage to spew something out, “S-Seokjin,” is all you manage to stutter under your breath.

The twins share a troublesome look to one another, “Come on you two, Mom made Pajeon,” Yeonha says, pulling the two of you by your respective hands and forcing you both inside, “We can all eat and catch up,” she smiles wide and big, “I’m sure you two would love that,” she winks.

“I d-don’t,” you attempt to say something, but too flustered for your own good, you remain in shock.

Glancing at Mrs. Kim, you notice the contemplative look on her face, as if she was debating with herself in terms of what to do.

Making up her mind, she announces, “I’ll get the plates ready,” much to your dread.

Awkwardly, the two of you are seated across from another, the tension in the room only building as you wait for the food.

“Soooo……” Yeonha breaks the silence that fills the room, “What have you two been up to?” she glances at the two of you, waiting for a response.

Feeling a knot in your stomach, you continue to remain silent.

It also didn’t help that Seokjin’s gaze had remained on you this whole time. It was as if he was studying you, analyzing you the same way you had done to him. He wanted to see if you had changed.

Feigning a cough, he ultimately speaks. “Shouldn’t you already know Yeonha,” he questions her, “unless you haven’t been listening whenever we talk on the phone…”

Her face reddens, “Of course I have! You just went to Taiwan recently to consult for some business company and do those boring analyses you always do.”

He shakes his head, “Then there’s your answer,” he simply states.

“Business? So he really did end up giving up on his dream ….” you think to yourself, a bit saddened at the fact. A part of you always assumed that Jin had left you to be well on his way to stardom, that when he left you that night, he truly was being the selfish person he claimed he wanted to be.

“Y/N? …” the sound of your name being repeated brings you back to reality.

For a moment you look confused, “I said what about you?” and for the first time since your breakup, both you and Jin make eye contact, easily taking your breath away.

Face reddening, you take a while to respond, “I um—” flustering with your words , you continue, “I’m um— the head writer at the same company I worked at years ago,” you force an awkward smile on your face.

“Oh…” Jin says, “Do you like it over there?” and the question brings you back to that first car ride to the diner when you had just moved to town. His delivery of the question still as blunt as before.

“Um yeah …” you reply, fidgeting with your fingers.

He genuinely smiles, “I’m glad,” he says, “really I am,” he adds for extra comfort.

And before you could say thank you, his mother enters the dining room, the plate of Pajeon in her hand, along with other side dishes, “Here you kids go,” she places the things on the table, “Make sure you eat it while it’s hot,” she warns before making her way back into the kitchen.

It’s only until you grab the piece of Pajeon with your chopsticks that he finally notices it.

He finally notices the shiny diamond ring you sport on your left index finger.

“You’re engaged,” he suddenly announces says , face unreadable.

As if the room wasn��t awkward enough….

Gulping, you nod, “Yeah,” you exhale, “it happened a couple of months ago,” you add.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, “I’m happy for you,” he gives you a small smile. Silently patting his mouth with a napkin, he gets up from his seat, “Well I just came back from a pretty long flight so I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna head upstairs,” he avoids eye contact for a moment, a sign that he was lying, “Jet lag you know?” he awkwardly laughs, “But it was nice seeing you y/n…”

Getting up as well, you decide that it was best you left as well.

“Merry Christmas y/n,” he says one final time before heading up stairs.

“Merry Christmas to you too Seokjin,” you whisper under your breath.

“Since our breakup three years before, Seokjin had never once gone back home for Christmas, which was why I felt so sure that he wouldn’t that year, but of course I was wrong. So when I told my mom she immediately began to panic for me, remembering that she invited Mrs. Kim to come over the next day, and well of course she didn’t want to be rude and rescind her invitation.

And so I told my mom that it was fine. Whether Seokjin decided he wanted to come over or not, I’d be just fine. At least that’s what I tried convincing myself of…”

“Seokjin, we’re going to be headed our way now,” Mrs. Kim yells over the blasting music. God, did Jin feel like a teenager again. “If you change your mind well … we’ll be right next door!”

He hears her footsteps going down the stairs, signalling that she was gone.

Engaged …. You were really engaged ….

The image of the ring on your finger was the only thing that remained in his mind the night before, and it was what was haunting him even now.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, you were happy, you had found love in someone else just like he’d hoped for years ago.

He should’ve been ecstatic for you … but he wasn’t.

Several questions pondered in his mind once he saw it. Who was the guy? How did you meet? When were you sure you loved him? Was he treating you better than he ever did? Could he give you the future you always wanted? Just how happy were you?

Sighing, he gets up from bed, not wanting to sulk for any longer.

He had to do something, anything, for the meanwhile that he was back home to get his mind off of this. And so grabbing his jacket, he prepares to leave, unsure of just how long he could be in the same proximity as you without doing something he’d regret.

The sounds of crickets chirping fills the air, a wine glass in your hand as you look at the stars above in the sky from the comfort of your front porch.

Inside, your parents were talking about the most mundane of things with Jin’s parents, while the kids were busy preoccupying themselves playing with their newly gifted Nintendo 64. And after getting tired of constantly losing to them, here you were, taking a break from the chaos going on inside.

Seojun was arriving tomorrow, from there you’d only be here for the remainder of the weekend and then back home to your apartment in Seoul, as if nothing ever happened. Ever since yesterday, something was eating at you. You just weren’t sure what. And the only thing you could look at to ease your anxiousness was the ring on your finger, a solid reminder that you had a future to look forward to and that the past was buried six feet under.

Taking a gulp of the drink in your hand, you mentally curse Jin. Why did he have to return? Out of all years, this had to be the one he chose to magically come back in? “Damn you Seok—”

“Y/N?” you look up to see the person you were just damning, car keys in hand. It looked as if he was originally planning on going somewhere, but must’ve walked over here once he saw you sitting here by yourself.

“Seokjin,” you say, a mixture of both shock and displeasure evident in your voice.

Relief washes over him when hearing your response because unbeknownst to you, from afar you looked as if you were completely knocked out, a result of the position you were in while you were deeply thinking. Immediately he eyes the wine glass in front of you, everything beginning to make sense.

“You looked um—” shaking his head, he disregards what he was going to say, “Sorry I’ll just get going.”

And maybe it was the wine talking, but rather than keep quiet and watch him leave, you call out to him, “You can—” you hesitate to continue, “You can sit here if you want,” you say, “that’s only if you want to of course, I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to because I’m not exactly physically capable of doing that and—”

Jin interrupts your tipsy rambling by sitting at an appropriate distance from you, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips, “You always did like getting drunk off wine,” he whispers under his breath, a small smile on his lips.

For a while, the two of you remain in silence, simply staring at the view above. That was of course until you asked him a simple question, “Where were you going?” you mumble.

Bringing his attention towards you, his eyes soften, “Just wanted some fresh air,” he simply answers, being completely truthful.

Silently you nod, “Mm that’s good,” you say, your cheeks a soft tinge of red because of the wine.

“So…”

“So…” you mimic him, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

“How have you been?” he attempts to break the ice, “I realized I didn’t really ask you that yesterday…”

It was funny really, the two of you truly had become strangers in a sense, just like how he said you two would be that night. But in a way, it also made things more interesting, it was as if he was getting the chance to know you for the second time in his life.

“I’ve been..” you hesitate to find the right word, ultimately deciding on the simplest one you knew, “I’ve been good,” you say, “I’m doing something I love, have an apartment I completely adore, and I found someone—” you stop yourself from continuing.

“You found someone you love?” he says for you, and silently you nod, remaining silent for a moment.

“Why did you—” you pause before continuing, “Why did you become a businessman?” you ask, the question having been on your mind since the day before.

Casually, he shrugs, “There was no future in the world of entertainment for me y/n,” he states, “so I went back to college, worked my ass off, and got a degree in financial accounting. From there the job offers came pretty easily and now I’m a traveling business analyst.”

“Did you do it because of your da—”

He’s quick to nod his head no, “I did it for—,” and at the last second he changes what he was originally going to say, “I did it for myself,” and you feel yourself getting angry.

“But it wasn’t what you dreamed of, it wasn’t something you loved!” you unintentionally shout.

“Hey hey hey,” he places a hand on your shoulder, “any louder and the whole neighborhood will hear you,” he attempts to joke around, and you feel your face get redder than it already was.

Letting go of your shoulder, he looks back up to the stars, his voice becoming soft, “The night I told you about wanting to seriously pursue becoming a director, you told me that if I failed, the real question would be if I’d be able to accept it…” your gaze falls on him while he continues to look up into the sky, “At first I wasn’t able to… I was too ashamed to admit to failure, but—” he smiles, “when I finally did, it almost felt liberating. And so I realized sometimes you have to give up the things you love, for a better shot at a future.”

Bullshit.

Complete bullshit.

That’s what you want to say to him.

And so you do.

“That’s complete utter bullshit Seokjin,” you mutter, taking a sip of your drink, “because if it isn’t then that makes you a selfish person, and you’re the farthest thing from selfish. So that’s just bullshit and you know it.”

He laughs, “It is, isn't it?”

Not expecting him to agree, you look at him in shock before grouchily looking away, focusing your gaze on anything but him.

Failing to hear the brief sharp hissing sound of his zipper being pulled down, you suddenly feel the placement of his sweater over your shoulders. You furrow your brows in confusion, “You’re shivering like a chihuahua,” he explains, scratching his neck like he always did whenever he was nervous.

Crossing your arms, you attempt to hide your face which you were sure by now was as red as a tomato. What the hell were you doing? Sitting here talking to your ex boyfriend of 6 years while your fianceé was probably well on his way here… it was wrong, it was inappropriate. So then if you knew that then why did it feel so … you brush the thought off before you could complete it.

“Because he was your friend first and as much as you hate to admit it, he'll always mean something to you…” you tell yourself, feeling guilty at the thought.

“Y/N?” he says your name, bringing you back to reality.

You look at him, wondering why he said your name out of the blue.

“Do you—” it was now his turn to hesitate, “Do you hate me?” he finally asks, and immediately your mind says no. You could never hate him, even if you wanted to.

He stares at you, anxiously waiting for a response.

“No I don’t.” you simply say, not bothering to elaborate any further, but for Jin that was enough. It was enough to tell him that you still …

“Seojun…” you whisper under your breath, a car pulling into the driveway of your house, a look of surprise on your face. Immediately you push off the jacket from your shoulders, catching Seokjin by surprise.

“So this is who he is…” Jin thinks to himself, watching the handsome man come out of the car, a grin on his face as he locks eyes with you.

Walking towards him, Jin watches as you lovingly greet the man with a kiss to the cheek, the two of you then walking towards him. “Seojun this is Seokjin, his parents are the neighbors,” Seojun offers his hand out, a polite smile on his face, “Seokjin this is Seojun, my fianceé,” the two shake hands. Your past and present finally meeting.

“Seokjin which means to be a great treasure,” Seojun attempts to make small conversation.

“He’s a linguist,” you explain, awkwardly chuckling, noting the fake smile on Seokjin’s face.

“Mm I see,” he mumbles, bitterness in his voice.

“I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow?” you ask your fianceé, still surprised by his sudden appearance.

He shrugs, “What can I say, I got bored,” he laughs, “So I said my goodbyes early, and decided why not come here to surprise you,” he kisses your forehead, and Jin feels the green eyed monster making its way out.

“Well I should get going,” Jin states.

“You sure?” you widen your eyes at Seojun’s sudden question, “I mean I love your dad y/n but it’d be nice to have someone else to talk to,” he chuckles, “and well I definitely wanna hear about what y/n was like as a teenager from someone who isn’t one of her parents.”

You and Jin both make awkward eye contact, unsure of what to say. “Maybe some other time,” Jin manages to say, “I have to um…” he flusters, “um..”

“Finish typing up that business report you were talking about,” you make an excuse for him.

He snaps his fingers, pretending that that was what he was trying to say, “Mmhmm yeah!” he scratches his neck, “My job just doesn’t want me resting, not even for the holidays, you know how it is...” he adds on, coming for the Actor of the Year award at next year's Oscars.

Seojun surprisingly believes it, “Damn, that’s too bad,” he scratches his chin, a sign that he was thinking of something, “Well are you coming to our engagement party? Maybe we can talk then,” he says, and if your eyes weren’t already wide enough, by now they were well on their way to falling onto the floor. Seojun was just too kind for his own good.

Jin practically chokes on his own spit, “I um—”

Realizing that you probably forgot to invite him, Seojun interrupts before Jin could feel any more embarrassed, “January 12, at the Lotte Hotel in Seoul, 6PM sharp.”

Feeling his face get red, Seokjin nods, “Yeah I’ll be there,” he forces a laugh.

Patting his shoulder, Seojun smiles, “I look forward to talking to you then,” he says, beginning to make his way inside, with you following closely behind, a guilt-ridden look on your face.

Now by himself, Jin silently cursed to himself. Damn him! Seojun wasn’t at all the asshole Seokjin made him out to be in his head. But damn did he want him to be one…. then it’d be much easier to hate the man, and it’d make him much less guilty for what he was planning to do….

“After that night, I’d go to sleep scared. Not because I was in danger in anything, but because I was scared about the feelings I’d repressed for so long now starting to return. I was scared of looking back…”

Patting down your black fitted cocktail dress, you look at yourself in the mirror for a final time, “Everything is going to be just fine,” you whisper to yourself, having cooped yourself in the ladies restroom for quite some time now.

You couldn’t help it, the moment you saw the twins walk in with Jin’s mother, you knew it was only a matter of time before Jin walked in.

Ever since that Christmas weekend, his sudden return into your life had been eating you alive. You had gotten over him, you were sure of it. No … you are over him. Point. Blank.

This ring you wore on your finger signified that you were over him, that there was a different future to look forward to now. That whatever was meant to be in the past was no longer an option for you now. Right?

The door suddenly opens, “Y/N, there you are!” your mom comes in with an upset look on her face, “the host of the party can’t just disappear whenever she wants to,” she scolds.

Staring at her with a doe eyed look, you want to tell her everything. Everything that you were currently feeling, every question, every doubt that was crossing your mind since Jin’s return. But instead you just look away, making your way out.

“Taiwan huh? I’ve always wanted to visit there,” you hear your future brother-in-law, Hoseok, say.

He, along with Seojun, Seokjin, and some other guests were currently discussing God knows what in a social circle.

“Y/N,” Seojun calls out to you, a grin on his face.

Immediately you make eye contact with Jin, feeling your every movement being scrutinized under his gaze.

Sucking it up, you plaster a smile onto your face, reminding yourself that in a couple of hours you’d be in bed, with the only other times you’d have to see Jin being your rehearsal dinner, which was the night before the wedding, and the wedding day itself. And even then he would just have to be another face in the crowd of guests.

Seojun places a kiss to your cheek, “Jin was just talking about his adventures in Taiwan, I’m thinking it might be a good destination for our honeymoon,” he says with genuine excitement in his tone. Oh how naive he was…

“Oh…” is all you can say, struggling to keep the smile on your face, “um yeah, I guess that would be a nice place to go, wouldn’t it?” you attempt to stay engaged with the conversation, and it seemed as if it was enough to fool Seojun because soon he was talking about something else with another guest.

But clearly it wasn’t enough to fool Jin, as he currently had his gaze fixed on you, occasionally taking a sip out of the glass of whiskey in his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go out and get a breath of fresh air,” you whisper to Seojun’s ear, and silently he nods, distracted by the conversation he was currently having.

Going out, you make sure not to be seen by your mother, knowing that she’d only scold you again for trying to leave. And so like the cowardly person you were, all you could do was hide and wait in the hotel’s little garden, sitting on the stone bench, the smell of the flowers somewhat relaxing you.

God, did you just want this night to be over already…

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you suddenly say, feeling the presence of someone behind you, but you knew exactly who it was.

“You looked sad,” you hear Jin say, genuine concern in his voice.

You remain silent.

Sighing, he sits next to you, the moonlight framing his face in such a way that he almost looks ethereal. “Originally I wasn’t going to,” he says, understanding the double meaning to your words, for you meant that he shouldn’t have came to this event at all, “But I needed to see it with my own eyes, confirm that it wasn’t just some—”

“What? Some joke?” you scoff, “Some wretched attempt at getting over you…”

Now it was his turn to remain silent.

You shake your head, “3 years Seokjin,” you say, “3 years you were gone and you just had to come back the year I get engaged,” you bitterly chuckle, wishing you had a drink in your hand, “funny how life works huh?”

Silently he nods, agreeing with you, “I guess it was just a natural sense,” he attempts to joke around, but you remain silent, “I’m sorry,” he randomly says and you look at him confused, “For coming back,” he elaborates on the apology, “if I’d known beforehand I wouldn’t have come back to town for both of our sakes,” he chuckles, being completely honest.

“Hand me that,” you motion to the drink in his hand, and without question he does. Taking a giant gulp, you then finally say something, “I’m getting married in 6 months Seokjin,” you remind him of your future fate, “it was going to happen before you came back, and it’s happening even after,” you turn to face him, wanting to make sure he understood that at this very moment you were placing a line between you two, one that you hoped was unbreakable.

He returns to stare, “I know y/n,” he simply responds.

“Do you?” your face twists into a frown, “Because I know you Seokjin and something in my gut is telling me that—”

“Y/N I know,” he repeats, “but just answer one thing for me…” he pauses, contemplating on whether to continue but does so anyway, “Do you really love him?”

And just as you’re about to respond, he interrupts, “But I mean genuinely y/n, enough where you really can picture the rest of your life with him with absolutely no regrets, no what if’s…” he adds.

Could you? You ask yourself. Could you really imagine being with Seojun with no regrets…..

To Jin, your silence was enough of an answer, but before he could get a word in, a voice suddenly interrupts, “Y/N!” Seojun calls out, “There you are,” he exhales a relieved sigh, “We’re about to cut the cake,” he glances at Jin, nodding as a way of saying hello.

“Oh right ...” you get up from the bench, a black cloud hanging over your head, “I’ll see you at the wedding Seokjin,” you look at Jin a final time, the statement ultimately acting as your answer.

“The six months went by in the blink of an eye, but each and every night when I went to bed, it ate me alive.

The lies I was telling my fianceé, the lies I was telling myself, everything was just becoming too much.

And as the date loomed closer and closer, it was only getting worse. And so the night before the rehearsal dinner I finally came clean…”

Staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, you’d become accustomed to the sleepless nights for the last six months, faint lines beginning to form under your eyes.

In less than 48 hours you’d be a married woman, welcoming a future you’d always wanted. So then why was it now, you still couldn’t get a wink of sleep.

“Wedding jitters?” you hear Seojun whisper beside you, and you find yourself shocked that he was still awake. Usually he was quick to fall asleep, a deep sleeper as well, so to find him awake was pretty unusual.

You remain silent, hoping he’d just fall asleep, but like the caring person he was, he softly nudges you despite knowing that you were ignoring him, “Seojun, go to sleep, it’s late,” you mumble in the darkness, reminding you of a memory from long ago.

“Something’s bothering you,” he says, now turning to face you, and he nudges you a second time, “You know you can tell me anything…” he adds, wanting to reassure you.

This was your chance, your chance to tell him everything before it was too late. It was speak now or forever hold your peace, and so sighing, you position yourself to sit up, turning on the bedside lamp.

“Seojun I haven’t been completely honest with you…” you announce, now avoiding eye contact. “And well you deserve to know the truth because you’re an amazing person who deserves nothing but the bes—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts you, a soft laugh emitting from his lips, “I know Seokjin is your ex, and I know he still loves you,” he drops the bombshell of news on you, and you could’ve sworn you felt your jaw hit the floor.

“W-wait w-w-what?” you manage to breathe out, and it only makes him laugh again.

He now sits up, nodding his head, “I knew the moment you introduced his parents as the neighbors rather than calling him an old friend,” he chuckles, “you were trying to make it seem a little too platonic,” your face squirms, “and well you’re not exactly the best liar,” he pauses, “Plus your mom isn’t exactly a quiet speaker so when I heard her rambling to your dad about the situation, I sorta just knew.”

“T-then why didn’t you call me out on it?” you immediately ask, but before he could respond, you continue to ramble, “God, I’m so sorry Seojun,” tears well up in your eyes, “I love you, I really do,” you say, completely truthful, “but I-I-I—” you struggle to continue.

“But you also love him,” he completes for you, a look of understanding on his face.

Immediately you nod your head no, “No I don’t it’s just—”

“Y/N it’s fine,” he says, grabbing your hand, but you still refuse to admit it.

“No Seojun, you don’t get it. I love you, I do, more than you ever know and I’m ready to start our future together but—” you look away, “as much as I hate to admit it I’m always going to feel something for him because he was my first love,” you whisper the last part, “but you’re my last,” you reaffirm.

Seojun smiles sadly before sighing, “I know, which is why I sorta just let it be that night at the engagement party because well... I figured that if you were able to make it to the aisle without turning back it meant that you truly did love me,” he pauses, “Because even now you have the choice to turn back y/n, you do understand that right? I won’t be mad, I won’t be too sad, and I won’t hate you for it because I understand,” he says and you feel a teardrop fall from your eye, “that night I overheard him ask you if you really loved me and though you didn’t immediately say yes, you also didn’t flat out say no. And so it seems you’re at a crossroad… ” he whispers.

“Seojun…”

He squeezes your hand, “When you step on that aisle then I’ll have no doubt that you’ve completely unregrettably chosen me,” he says, “and if you don’t then I’ll know you were just never meant to be mine,” he smiles softly.

A silence follows.

“Tomorrow he’s going to the rehearsal dinner, and I’m assuming it’ll act as his hail mary. His final attempt at getting you back,” he suddenly says, “and so it’ll be your time to make a decision … a future with me or a look back at the past with Seokjin,” and he kisses your cheek, his way of saying goodnight before making himself comfortable in bed again, quickly falling asleep, and leaving you in the same sleepless state you were already in before.

He was right, knowing Seokjin tomorrow he was going to do something because you were 100% sure that he would never grow the balls to object to the matrimony in front of everyone. And so as the clock kept ticking, it was only up to you to decide your future.

“The next night came quicker than expected. After all of the guest greetings and pretentious conversations I had to make, it was time for the guests to make a toast. By then I had already made a decision in my mind, I just didn’t expect everything to happen the way it did….

For over the last 50 years I’ve constantly looked back at that night and have asked myself where it went wrong, what could’ve gone differently, what if this, and what if that… as it was never meant to escalate to the point it reached...

But it did … and as much I would love to go back in time and change everything, I can’t. And that’s just something I’ve had to accept, no matter how much it hurts…”

Clink. Clink. Clink.

You eye Jin as he gets up from his seat, his glass of sparkling water in his hand.

You’d been avoiding him like the plague the whole night, just wanting to get to the wedding day as soon as possible.

You attempt to remain calm.

He wouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone. If he really cared for you like you believed him to, then he wouldn’t.

You knew Jin, and he was the kind of person to pull you to the side or find you alone like at the night of the engagement party in order to tell you something. Never would he stoop so low to do something like this…

Feigning a cough, he speaks, “I want to make this as quick as possible, don’t want to take too much of everyone’s time,” Jin’s mother glances at yours, the two of them unsure of what was going on, “So where do I begin…” Seojun looks at you with an impassive expression, your conversation from the night before coming to fruition, “Ahh I know,” Jin snaps his fingers, “So for anyone who doesn’t know, I actually dated y/n first…”

“Seokjin,” his mother attempts to stop him by harshly whispering his name, but he relents.

“We dated for about 6 years actually, to a point where we sure that we’d spend the rest of our lives together,” he scoffs, “but then I ruined that by breaking up with her,” he reminds you and everyone else around you of the fateful night, “which I know is shitty of me to realize just now how much of a mistake it was. But I mean what are the chances that I come back the year you’re about to get engaged, I mean that has to mean something right?” he rambles, almost as if talking to himself, convincing himself that this was the right thing to do.

Everyone sits in shock of the words spewing out of his mouth, certain that this was only something that happened in movies, never imagining that it could actually happen in real life, “I’m only saying this now because I realize it’d be even more of a dick move of me to object in front of everyone,” he chuckles to himself, “And so I’m doing this now, in front of everyone y/n…” he locks eyes with you, “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but this is our last chance, a final shot at the future you’ve always wanted... with me.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Slowly you get up, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest as you clear your throat before speaking, “I know this is a lot to ask but if everyone can get up and momentarily leave the room, I’d really appreciate it,” you announce, “I’d like to talk to my friend privately for a moment,” you look down to Seojun who nods understandingly.

Without question, Seojun begins to lead everyone out, until ultimately it was only you and Seokjin standing by yourselves, a scene all too familiar to you.

“Y/N…” he begins, but you’re quick to cut him off, your hand placed on your temple.

“Why?” your voice breaks, any emotion you’d been withholding beginning to unravel, “Just why?” is all you’re able to ask.

“Because you don’t love him y/n,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, and it’s at hearing that, that you feel a shift in mood.

“But I do Seokjin!” you yell, seeing nothing but red now.

Silence momentarily lingers in the air, until you scoff.

“What were you thinking, Seokjin? That you could just come back into my life and I’d welcome you back with open arms?” you ask, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall with every word you got out.

He shakes his head, “No but—” he hesitates, walking closer to you, “what are the chances y/n? What are the chances I come back to town the year you’re getting married—”

“The only reason I’m getting married to someone else is because you left me!” you interrupt him, reminding him of the choice he made years ago.

He looks away, “You don’t get it y/n,” he mumbles under his breath, beginning to grow frustrated.

“What’s there not to get Seokjin?” you push at him, now yelling, “If I hadn’t gone looking for you that night, I would’ve been left with nothing but a goddamn note—”

“I was doing what was best for you!” he yells in return.

“For me?” your voice shakes, “Leaving me at a diner in the middle of the goddamn night with some poor excuse wasn’t the best for me! Leaving me to cry in bed, by myself, for almost 2 years straight wasn’t the best for me! Leaving me, not knowing where the hell you were for almost 3 years wasn’t the best for me!” you finally explode, years and years of anger now revealing itself.

“Everything I had felt, the sadness, the anger, the frustration, everything … was finally being released…”

“I begged for you that night Seokjin, begged!” you emphasize, the tears that had been building up, now falling hysterically.

“I was just trying to do what was best for you,” he says, completely and wholeheartedly honest, because it was true. At the time he really was doing it all for you, and you understood that now, truly you did.

“But I just couldn’t let it go… I was still hurt, and that hurt was what was holding me back. That hurt was what was preventing me from walking out the back door with him, ready to finally start that future with him I always wanted…”

“I didn’t need you to do anything for me!” you yell, “I was a grown woman Seokjin! Capable of making my own decisions, just like I am now!” your heartbeat slows down, “I gave you my heart that night Jin!” your voice cracks, not only feeling your heart break for the second time in your life, but all by the same person, “It was you who left me! Not me, you!”

“Because I didn’t want to hold you back y/n,” his voice breaks, “Because at the time I couldn’t give you the things you wanted.”

“And I told you I didn’t care!” you cry out, “Because for me all that mattered was being by your side…” a silence follows, “You were my first love Seokjin,” you breathe out, “the first boy to make me feel completely and unconditionally loved and so for that I thank you,” you say, “I really do…” you grab his hand, “but this—” you struggle to say the words.

“But this is the end,” a tear falls down from his eye, and you can only stare at him in sadness.

“I’m choosing Seojun, completely and unregrettably,” you whisper, placing a final soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m sorry,” I’m sorry for being unable to let go, is what you want to say.

“So then I should go,” he quietly says, and silently you nod, letting go of his hand in the process.

And he watches you as you walk away, “Y/N,” he says your name for a final time and you turn around, sadness still etched in your face.

There’s a brief silence before he continues.

“Live—” he hesitates, “Live a life you’ll be proud of,” he reminds you, and to that you send him a small smile. A chapter in your life coming to its end.

“And so the next day was the wedding....”

“How are you feeling y/n?” your mom comes up to you from behind, practically feeling just as nervous as you were.

You pat down your dress, sighing in the process. Ever since last night, there was a churning feeling in your stomach that had been bothering you, but you reasoned with yourself that it must’ve been due to the events of the night prior, “Nervous but I should be good to go,” you respond, and your mom gives you a smile of reassurance.

Curious to see how many guests had arrived already, you look out the window of the room you were in, which gave a perfect view of the venue. Scanning across, it seemed like everyone was here except…

“Where’s Mrs. Kim?” you ask, “and the twins?”

After last night’s events, Mrs. Kim had gone up to you frantically apologizing for her son’s behavior, rambling about understanding if you didn’t want her at the wedding anymore, but you were quick to tell her that it was fine. That just because Jin did what he did, didn’t mean you didn’t want her attending. Which was why now seeing her seat empty along with the twins’, you were not only confused but a little hurt.

“Maybe they’re stuck in traffic,” she reasons, “they did leave quite late,” she adds.

Deciding it was best not to dwell on it too much, you push it to the back of your mind, “Let’s get this show on the road,” you ultimately say, ready to get married.

“You have to remember that in the early 2000’s, not everyone had mobile phones yet because of how expensive they were. People were still used to calling a house phone by memory and crossing their fingers that you’d pick up. You couldn’t just send a text message to absolutely anyone whenever something of importance happened…” you explain, your voice beginning to shake, “you couldn’t inform someone of an emergency until God knows when,” a tear falls from your eye, “Because if you could, then—” you let out a heart wrenching sob.

“Grandma?” Jia says in concern.

“Then I would’ve never gone through with that wedding…”

Seokjin was tired, no … he was exhausted.

God, was he such an idiot. What the hell was he thinking doing that? You were right, did he really think he could just waltz back into your life and everything would just go back what it once was? And to see you cry like that only made him realize even more of what a complete selfish asshole he was.

But at least, you both found closure right? That was all that—

The sound of Seokjin’s car engine making an ugly noise breaks him away from his thoughts. Almost immediately, he pulls over to the side of the road, purposely stopping near a payphone for reference.

Grabbing the flashlight from his compartment box, he gets out of the car and lifts up the hood of the car.

“Hmm...” he hums, nothing seemed wrong. It was probably just his car’s way of saying that it needed to be replaced by a newer model soon.

He smiles, tapping the hood once he placed it back down. He’s had this thing since his first year in college, it being by his side almost as long as you had been, if not more.

Yawning, he gets back in the car, the need to fall asleep becoming a little too overwhelming. Placing the key back in the keyhole, he turns it in order to turn on the ignition, but to his surprise the car refuses to start, “Come on LadyBug,” he says, the name of the car being something you and him both made up on a drunken whim, it sticking ever since.

Deciding to be stubborn tonight, LadyBug relents.

Sighing he grabs his Nokia phone from the glove compartment, the giant words of “NO SIGNAL” only making him sigh more. He just wanted to go home and sleep already.

Getting out of the car once more, he walks towards the phone booth, inserts a quarter, and dials the number of his parent’s house phone. As much as he hated to ask for help, desperate times called for desperate measures, and his dad should be home.

“You have reached the voicemail box of 45x-7x8-87xx, please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeep,” the automated voice instructs.

Seokjin groans, maybe his dad was asleep, “Hey dad, I’m sorta stranded out here with a car that doesn’t seem to want to start and well … I think Mom is still at the rehearsal dinner with the twins,” Seokjin begins to ramble, “She’s probably on her way back home, but you know her,” he chuckles, scratching his neck, “she still refuses to get a mobile phone so there’s really no way of calling her till she gets home,” despite his father not being on the line, he still felt awkward asking him for a favor, “I’m on interstate 6, you know … the usual route to get from Gwacheon to Seoul. Well, I’m gonna try calling someone else just in case you’re asleep… bye,” he hangs up the phone, disappointed that he was going to be stuck here longer than he hoped for.

Who else could he call, hmmm.

Ah! Yoongi! Hell maybe even Taehyung or Namjoon! Though it’d been a while since he last saw them, he was sure they’d be willing to do him the favor.

Quickly dialing their numbers one after another, he’s met with the same automated message of, “We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check your number and try your call again.”

“Damn, they probably changed numbers,” Seokjin mumbles to himself, unsure of what to do.

Glancing at the time in his watch, he realizes just how late it was. Who else could he call….

The image of you appears in his mind, but he’s quick to shake his head no. He was the last person who could call to ask for a favor, but damn was your number the only number he had left in his memory.

And it wasn’t like he could sleep in his car for the night, that was only an invitation to get robbed on the side of the road.

He needed some kind of help, and quickly at that. And the chances that you were already home were pretty high, never being much of a partier to begin with.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, promising himself that this would be the last time he ever asked you for anything. He could only hope that you still lived in the same apartment….

“We should really start heading back home,” you whisper to Seojun’s ear, the rehearsal dinner having only awkwardly resumed about an hour or two ago. Things were barely beginning to get comfortable again among the guests, not like you could really blame them, they had just witnessed something that looked like it came out of a movie.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, “Have some fun,” he says, as this was probably your 10th time saying this in the last hour, “You deserve it,” he tries to convince you, your whole mood having gone sour since the whole mishap.

Sighing, you look away shyly, “I don’t know Seojun—”

“Come onnnn,” he teases, gently pulling you into a hug, “Just one more hour.”

You roll your eyes, “Hm fine,” you say, easily convinced, “but only one,” you reaffirm.

He nods, “only one.”

“Hello, we are currently either sleeping or—Jin I’m making the message for the voicemail thingy majiggy—” the sound of a high pitched laugh in the background is heard, and Jin remembers how he had been poking fun at you for using your “I mean business” voice, “as I was saying, we are currently either sleeping or at work! Sorry we couldn’t reach your call at this time, but please please please leave a message after the beep and we’ll make sure to get back to you as soon as we can! You ready? Beeeeeep!”

Jin laughs at how silly you sounded, surprised that you hadn’t changed the message in the last 3 years. It probably meant you had no reason to, considering it was pretty rare that you didn’t pick up a phone.

Meaning maybe you weren’t picking up on purpose….

Jin shakes his head, reminding himself that he was calling on a payphone and that there was no way you could see it was him. It was just self doubt getting to him.

“Hey y/n it’s me um Seokjin,” he awkwardly laughs, “I know I don’t really deserve to be asking you for a favor right now, but um,” he exhales a deep breath, “I’m sorta stranded right now and well I tried calling everyone else I could think of at the top of my head, I swear, but no one picks up,” he wants to make sure you understand that you really were his last option, “I promise that after this it’ll be the last time you see or hear of me, but I’m just really tired and well I just wanna go home and sleep. So if you can, I’ll be on interstate 6 with LadyBug,” he chuckles, “Um …” he’s unsure of how to end the voicemail, “I’ll see you soon then… bye ….”

Sighing, he walks back to his car, deciding he was going to try one more time before officially giving up. Twisting the key, he could only cross his fingers that it’d start up.

Vrooom.

A toothy grin appears on Jin’s face as he childishly celebrates, “Oh thank God,” he whispers to himself, rubbing his eyes and preparing himself for the drive ahead.

“Y/N,” your mom calls out to you from the dance floor, a shock ridden expression on her face, “Y/N!” she yells again, this time grabbing your attention.

“What is it mom?” you ask, unaware of the severity of what she was about to tell you.

“We need to go outside, I—” she seems out of breath, “I need to tell you something,” her voice shakes, and an immediate concern covers your face.

“Right now?” you ask, confused as to what could be so important that she needed to tell you at this very moment, in the middle of your wedding reception.

Silently she nods, leading you outside, her hand intertwined with yours. Your dad, with a solemn expression on his face, follows not too far behind.

“Something’s happened y/n…” she begins, voice wavering, “It’s about Seokjin…”

Inaudible words are spoken.

And soon you fall to the ground, the shock paralyzing you in such a way that you were sure this had to be some cruel nightmare, the sound of silent muffled sobs escaping your lips and filling the air.

A tragic story coming to its end.

“He died that night driving,” you hauntingly say, “A car had swerved into the opposite lane, and he was just too tired,” your voice shakes, “He didn’t see it in time,” tears fall down your eyes, “He died that night thinking I didn’t love him when in reality I loved him more than ever before. I was just too prideful to admit it,” you wipe the tears from your cheeks.

Jimin and Jia were at a loss for words, shock running through their veins, their eyes wet with their own tears, “You-You’re lying…” Jimin’s voice breaks, unable to comprehend what you had just told them.

“His mom didn’t get the call from the police until she got home, and even then she immediately rushed to the hospital, clinging onto the tiny bit of hope that he’d be just fine,” you shake your head, lips quivering at the recollection of everything, “She told my mom the next by calling my dad’s travel phone, felt like as a close friend … I deserved to know.”

“Grandma…” Jia says weakly.

“I always ask myself what if I hadn’t agreed to stay that extra hour that night. What if I had gone home like I should’ve and heard that voicemail? Because if I had, I would’ve gone to go get him without even a second thought. But like I said, I’ve just had to accept that what happened happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change that.”

Seojun gently knocks on your bedroom door, dressed in an all black suit, “Y/N…” he softly says your name, “Today’s the funeral… you,” he pauses, “you have to get up…” his voice is gentle, but firm, “You—” he hesitates, “You have to go y/n, you have to say goodbye,” he whispers.

He hears you attempt to muffle your sobs, just like you had been for every night of the last month. But in a room full of utter silence, it was almost impossible not to hear you.

“Y/N…” he slowly enters the dark room, heart breaking at the sight of you aimlessly staring at the ceiling. Sitting beside you, he begins to gently run his hand through your hair, an effort to comfort you.

But the heartfelt action only makes you sob harder, reminding you of the person you had lost, “I—” you barely croak the words out, “I just want to sleep,” you whisper, because you knew that it was only in your dreams that this wretched reality no longer existed. It was only in your dreams that he still… existed. It was the only time you were truly happy.

But by going to that funeral, it meant coming to face with the reality that everything was indeed real. That Kim Seokjin was truly dead.

“I know you do y/n…” he frowns, “but you have to say goodbye,” he repeats his words from earlier.

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Didn’t he understand? You didn’t want to say goodbye! You weren’t ready, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be.

“I don’t want to,” your voice cracks, face feeling moist because of how much you’d been crying.

“I-I know y/n but—” he’s unsure of what to say. What the hell could he say? You were mourning, you were heartbroken. The man you loved more than the world itself was dead, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

“I have to say goodbye,” you quietly mumble into space, the phrase echoing inside your mind, “I have to say goodbye,” you repeat for a final time, an empty look in your eyes.

The rain pours as you watch the casket get lowered, almost as if grieving itself.

There’s a haunting emptiness in the atmosphere, everyone still in too much shock and disbelief to believe that this was all real.

All you could do was blankly stare at what was in front of you, trying your best to tune out Mrs. Kim’s raw sobs, the sound being too much to bear.

She had lost her very first born. The child she learned how to nurture, the child whose job was for her to protect, the child who was one of her greatest joys in this world, but most importantly the child she had no doubt loved unconditionally. And so to hear her cry with such a deep hysteria…. it was just too much….

Your mom squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no words could take away the pain that you were feeling. She had first hand witnessed the love Kim Seokjin had for you, watching it go from a faint crush when you two were teenagers to a love so strong she was once sure it was unbreakable. You were going to get through this dark period in your life, that she was sure of, but the real question was when exactly would you come to accept it.

The clergy makes the final cross motion, ending his eulogy with God knows what because right now everything was just a big blur for you. Because even now with the sight of his casket being lowered six feet under and seeing both his mother and siblings cry like never before, it just didn’t feel real.

Slowly members of his family begin to leave after bidding their final goodbyes, with the occasional number of them stopping to give you their condolences, only making your heart wrench even more. You weren’t his wife, so why were they treating you like some widow? You didn’t deserve their consolation because you didn’t choose him. Like the horrible person you were, you just watched him leave that night. If it weren’t for you—

“Y/N?” a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

Turning, you feel your body go cold, “Y-Yoongi?” and beside him were none other than Namjoon and Taehyung, all three of them having tear stained eyes.

With sad eyes, they give you a small smile, clearly hurting themselves at the loss of their dear friend.

Soon you’re embraced in a hug by them, your body still in disbelief at the sight of them. It had been so long since you’d last seen them, years in fact. Never did you imagine your reunion with them would be here.

“W-we would’ve gotten here sooner but we caught traffic,” Taehyung says with a weak voice, eyes on the verge of spilling more tears.

And for the first time in a month, a small smile appears on your face, “You’re—” you sniffle, “You’re such a bad liar,” and he pulls you in for another hug, this time allowing those tears to fall.

The four of you soon stand in silence, words not having to be exchanged in order to understand what you were all feeling.

Namjoon suddenly speaks, “The last time I saw him was was the day he first came back into town, Christmas,” Yoongi smiles at the memory, all three of them being there, “He stopped by our apartment before going back to his mom’s, said he wanted to say hi,” Joon continues, “even apologized for just disappearing out of nowhere.”

“Tch that idiot,” Yoongi mumbles, “he said the first place he wanted to go was the diner but that they were closed,” Yoongi’s eyes glisten, trying his best not to cry.

“He then promised that for the next time he saw us, he’d to treat us to a meal and some soju,” Taehyung feigns a laugh, “We never got to take him up on it though...” his eyes lower.

“But the thing I’ll remember the most was his horrible attempt at finding out how you were after all those years,” Namjoon shakes his head, a dimpled smile appearing on his face.

Yoongi’s face lights up, remembering just how much he teased Jin that night, “You should’ve seen him,” he chuckles, “Not only were his ears red like how they’d always get but his whole face as well,” tears fall from Yoongi’s face as he laughs, “He looked like a tomato.”

“Ah and the mullet,” Taehyung reminds them, and soon the clear image of the Jin you’d fallen in love with when you were seventeen appears in your mind.

And for the first time since their appearance, you speak, “He—” you softly chuckle, “He was always convinced he’d bring them back in style,” and the boys feel a sudden sense of happiness in seeing you talk about him.

“Yeah he was—” Namjoon suddenly stops speaking, the boys and him now staring at something behind you.

It was Mrs. Kim, who was now walking towards the four of you, a box in her hands. A solemn smile graces her face.

One by one, she hugs each one of them, turning her attention towards you last, “I was—” she pauses, “I was hoping I could talk to you, privately,” she says, the boys silently nodding and bidding a silent farewell to you, glad to have made you smile, even if it was for a temporary moment.

She leads you to a bench, not too far away from his grave.

By now the rain had stopped and the sky was now a gloomy shade of gray.

Placing the box on her lap, for a small moment both of you simply stare at the view in front of you in silence.

You hadn’t talked to her since the night of your rehearsal dinner, not because you didn’t want to, but because looking at her reminded you so much of him. It reminded you of that first day you met him, how she had forced him to show you around town, not knowing that the two of you would be head over heels for one another years down the road. She, along with your mom, had always been your guys’ number one fan, always rooting for the both of you.

“He really did love you,” she stares off into the distance, “up until his very last breath, I’m sure,” she whispers.

You lower your gaze, unable to look at her.

Oddly enough, there was a peaceful aura in the air, both quiet and serene. Just like he would’ve loved it to be. He never did like seeing people cry.

“Whenever he’d come back home to visit, you should’ve seen the way his eyes would light up when he’d talk about you,” she smiles, “always eager to talk about what you were doing with your career,” she fiddles with her wedding ring, “Sungjin would get peeved but Seokjin wouldn’t care,” she chuckles, “he just loved you that much.”

At the mention of his father, only then fo you realize that you hadn’t seen him at all the entire service, “Where’s—” you’re hesitant to ask, not wanting to push boundaries, “Where’s Mr. Kim?” you croak. Yeah, he and Jin didn’t have the best relationship, but did that really matter now? Did any of it matter at this point?

She bitterly smiles, “He’s grieving in his own way,” she says, her voice breaking and her eyes still watery, “Those two had a tough love relationship,” she feigns a laugh, “but—” her voice cracks, “I always secretly knew that Seokjin was Sungjin’s favorite,” she sniffles her tears, “he just wasn’t good at showing it.”

You try your best not to cry, too physically and emotionally exhausted to sob any more. To you, it was just better to be numb than to feel every single emotion heightened, but God was it so hard. Everything just had to be so fucking hard.

Tightly, you grip the bench with your fingers, biting your lip in effort to suppress your emotions.

Slowly, she begins to open the box, pulling out what seemed to be childhood photos of Jin.

A genuine smile appears on her face as she begins to show you them, wet tears splashing onto the squared photos, “I—” she stutters, “I wanted you to have these,” she begins to explain, handing some of the photos off to you, “I tried looking for the photos and videos he’d take when you two met but,” she frowns, “but I don’t if he threw them away or—” she begins to ramble, “so I brought you these instead. I’m sorry they’re not of the exact memory you have of him,” she feigns a chuckle, “you know Seokjin,” she scratches the back of her neck, reminding you of exactly where Jin got his mannerisms from, “he never did like taking pictures.”

She flips through more of the photos, “I’m sorry there’s not that many,” her voice shakes, “I just—”

She needed to keep her memories of him too, is what you know she wants to say.

You notice that she’s also thrown some of Jin’s favorite things in the box, his denim jacket, the original little Mario figure he had always kept on his bed stand and his favorite Mariah Carey album, Daydream.

“I understand Mrs. Kim,” you softly say, “Thank you,” you whisper to her, embracing her in a tight hug.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she says in return. Thank you for loving him, are the unspoken words that linger in the air.

“I should—” you lower your gaze, “I should get going,” you say, feeling as if the world was spinning, your breathing now becoming rapid.

With the cardboard box in your hands, she watches as you hurriedly leave, only hoping that rather than haunt you, things could one day get better for you.

Running as far as you could, you hide behind a pillar.

It was all too much.

Everything was just too much.

Finally, silent sobs escape your mouth as you squat against the cement pillar. Grabbing his jacket from the box, you sob into it.

You just couldn’t let go.

As much as you wanted this all to be some horrible nightmare, you knew deep down it wasn’t. This mind numbing pain was all too real and unbearable for it to be some dream. You weren’t going to be waking up and finding Jin by your bedside, you weren’t going to hear his high pitched laugh ever again, and you weren’t ever going to be able to tell him just how much you still loved him.

Because Kim Seokjin was never coming back.

Your Jin was never coming back.

And it was completely all your fault for it. It was all your stupid miserable fault. If only you had—

“Y/N?” Seojun crouches down to face you, genuine concern on his face. “You’re—” he stutters, “You’re gonna get sick standing out here,” he wipes your snotty nose with his suit’s handkerchief.

Seojun was trying. He was trying to be as supportive as he could, and you understood that, truly you did. But just looking at him was a reminder of your choice because at the end of the day he was the person you chose over—

“It’s going to get dark soon y/n,” he whispers, “I-I think we should get going.”

You stare at him in silence and then turn to face the direction of the grave.

He wanted you to say goodbye.

But you just … you just weren’t ready to.

Because there lied the boy you were once so certain you’d have a future with. The boy who was capable of making you laugh even on gloomy days like this. The one who loved you on your good and bad days. The one who stood in a room full of people just to tell you how much he still loved you, something you knew he was probably so nervous about.

And so you just couldn’t let go.

But knowing you’d couldn’t stay here forever, you had to do the most humane thing you could possibly do. You had to live on.

“And so I did, all for him…”

“Yeojin!” you grab your mischievous 4 year old from the waist, stopping her blatant attempt at touching the stove, “What did I say about trying to touch the stove,” you scold her, and all she does is giggle, clearly unaware of the potential consequences of her actions.

Sadly you couldn’t be too mad, she was still learning right from wrong, but when it came to things like this, it was hard to keep your patience.

Carrying her up the stairs, you continue to scold her, “Remember what I said about it being hot,” you remind her, “you don’t want to end up with your fingers all red, do you?”

She nods her head no, “Of course not mommy.”

“Then,” you sigh, placing your little girl on her bed.

“Daddy said I’m in-de-struct-ible,” she sounds out the new word she’s recently learned, “Like Spiderman!” she mimics the superhero’s web shooting ability, the movie she just saw recently still clearly still in her mind.

“Okay Spiderman, I think it’s time you take a nap,” you say, and she mumbles something inaudible in return, “Hey hey, don’t go giving attitude now little lady,” you hide your smile, “it’s too early for all of that.”

Though not wanting to sleep, she allows you to tuck her in, already planning to get up and play with her toys once you left.

Taking note of her grumpy attitude, you place a kiss on her forehead, gently combing a hand through her hair, “I love you,” you coo.

“I love you too Mommy,” and before you knew it, her eyes were closed, the little girl now “sound asleep”, or at least that’s what you thought.

Sighing, you leave the room, gently closing the door.

That girl was a handful, most definitely, but she was everything you had in this world. Your symbol to keep moving forward, despite that constant need to look back.

Going down the stairs, you hum Mariah Carey’s new song, “We Belong Together” , the famous singer’s latest comeback single having topped the charts these days.

“When you left I lost a—” the smell of something burning gathers your attention, the intense scent of cooking oil alarming you that something was wrong. Your mind goes back to when you grabbed Yeojin from reaching the stove, her arm clearly outstretched—

Boom!

The kitchen illuminates an intense shade of red, a fire now starting from the stove, “Oh my—” immediately you run up the stairs because despite your mind being in utter chaos, one thing was clear: you had to get Yeojin out of here.

Frantically turning the knob to her door, you come to realize that it’s locked, “Yejin!” you yell.

“Mommy, I’m playing!” she giggles, oblivious to the danger you both were in.

You practically begin to punch the door, “Yejin I need you to open the door!” your breathing becomes heavy, panic now flowing in your veins. Smoke was beginning to reach upstairs, signaling to you that this fire was moving fast, dangerously fast.

Taking a deep breath, you take a couple of steps back from her door, “1..2…” using all your force, you ram into the door, effectively opening it in the process.

Without a second thought you grab Yeojin, wrapping one of her blankets around her body and face, immediately running down the stairs as fast as you possibly could.

By now the whole entire living room and kitchen were in flames, and you could hear Yeojin begin to whimper, confused as to what was going on.

“Everything’s gonna be okay baby,” you soothe her, your hand regrettably grabbing the door knob.

Immediately you hiss in pain, retracting your hand, “Oh God,” your hand felt as if it was sizzling.

There was no way you could get to the window, not without risking your daughter’s safety.

Preparing yourself for what you were about to do, you mentally reassure yourself, completely grabbing the door handle and twisting it, withholding the screams you desperately wanted to let out until you were out.

Running out, you place your daughter on the neighbor's front yard, the family immediately coming to assist you.

By now the whole neighborhood was standing outside their houses, concern and worry evident on their faces, “Oh my God y/n,” your neighbor notices the burn on your hand, “Go grab the kit in the basement!” she instructs her son.

By now, your breathing was erratic, a result of all the smoke you had inhaled, “T-The f-fire de—”

“We’ve already called them, they should be on their way. I’ve called Seojun’s job as well—” she immediately reassures you, “You need to relax y/n,” she tells you, but immediately your mind goes to something inside your house that was irreplaceable.

Mrs. Kim’s box.

Getting up from the lawn, you hear Yeojin call out to you, “Mommy!” she yells as you begin to run back to the house, focused on one thing and one thing only.

Getting that box.

“Y/N!” your neighbor tries to get you to come back, but by then you were already making your way inside, using your shirt as a cover for both your mouth and nose, a measly attempt at having more time inside the house.

Running up stairs, you barge into your room, immediately looking to the spot in your closet where you always had the box, but to your shocking surprise… it wasn’t there.

“What the…” you mumble to yourself, your lungs beginning to feel heavy again.

Without a second thought, you begin to ravage the room, knowing your time in here was limited. The fire was going to reach up the stairs at any moment, and once it did, it was over for you.

“What the fuck!” you yell to the empty room, feeling as if you were on the verge of an utter mental breakdown. It had to be here! There was no way you moved it, and Seojun knew better than to touch it. Putting a halt to your search, your eyes widen when you come to realize something.

What the hell was Yeojin playing with?

The Mario figure.

And in the blink of an eye, you run out the room, only to find the hallway now engulfed in flames, making it almost impossible to get into her room, not unless you wanted to burn to death.

“No…” you say under your breath, refusing to believe the box was in there. Your vision was beginning to get hazy and your head was pounding, now unsure if it was because of the fire or if it was because of the state of shock you were in. Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you hear the sound of the firetrucks nearing the house.

“Seokjin…” your voice breaks, realizing that the final things you had to remember him by were now gone. But despite your state of grief, your body knew it had to move on its own. Because by staying here, you’d inevitably die, and he wouldn't want that, not because of something like this.

Lifting up the window in your bedroom, you begin to slowly place your body out, trying your best to work with one hand. The fire was beginning to get to your bedroom, and you simply couldn’t afford to wait for the firemen to come with a ladder.

Sucking the pain up for one final time, you place your injured hand onto the ledge as well, now dangling outside the window, a scream of pain coming out of your mouth.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” you hear Seojun call out to you, “I’m gonna get you help, just hang on!” he yells, immediately running back to the front yard to presumably tell a fireman.

But the pain on your hand was just too much.

You needed to let go.

Even if it meant getting hurt in the process.

And soon you feel the impact of the floor, your arm taking mosting of the hit, most definitely dislocating. The last thing you see being the paramedics.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look what I made for you with all the other kids who were visiting their mommies and daddies!” Yeojin eagerly shows you the scribbling piece of art she created from her car seat, a toothy grin on her face.

“It looks amazing Yeojin,” you feign a smile, trying your best to act normal. Today you had been discharged from the hospital after about 2 weeks of getting your hand and arm treated along with having multiple tests ran because of the amount of smoke you inhaled.

Now, with bandages wrapped around your hand and a heavy cast, which the doctor said would take about two to three months to completely heal, you were on your way to your new (temporary) home. The fire had ravaged absolutely everything, sparing not a single thing in its sight.

It was your fault really, you shouldn't have had the cooking oil so close to the stove, especially without its cap on.

You turned your attention to Seojun, his quietness during the whole car ride not going unnoticed by you. It seemed as if whenever he did talk or laugh, it was unmistakingly fake.

Deciding you weren’t going to press him on it in front of Yeojin, you tell Yeojin to go upstairs to her room once you arrive.

Sighing, you place your things on the dining table, your free arm now feeling sore from its now constant use.

You attempt to make small conversation with your husband, “The insurance company called me at the hospital, said almost everything was covered…” you bring up, but he remains stoic.

You try again, “Yeojin seems to have made a lot of friends, with the way she was rambl—”

He finally breaks his silence by interrupting you, “Why did you do it...” he mumbles, causing your eyebrows to perk up, “Why did you run back into that fire?” he asks, trying to contain his anger.

You feel your body freeze for a moment before answering, “I told you already, I wanted to get the papers in the sa—”

He’s quick to cut you off, venom in his voice, “Stop lying,” he grits his teeth, “There was—” he shakes his head, “There was only one thing in that house that I’m sure you’d risk your life for Y/N, so let’s stop acting dense here…”

You lower your gaze, silence filling the room.

“You could’ve died y/n,” he whispers, and your silence only peeves him, “Died!” he repeats, wanting you to understand the possible severity of your actions.

Narrowing your gaze, you scoff, “You think I don’t know that,” you spit back, not exactly fond of how he was treating you, as if you weren’t a grown woman capable of understanding the consequences of your actions.

“No I don’t think you do,” he retorts back, “Because if you did then you wouldn’t have ever gone back inside that house to begin with!” his voice becomes louder.

“You’re going to wake her up,” you refer to Yeojin, who was probably taking a nap in her room.

It was now his turn to scoff, “Like you care.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you growl in return.

“You almost left her without a mother!” he finally yells, “All for that goddamn—” he stops himself midway, unable to finish the sentence.

You glare at him, knowing exactly what he wanted to say, your eyes already getting watery at the thought of it, “Say it,” you challenge him, “Say what you’ve been wanting to say for all these years,” you mutter.

“He’s gone y/n…” he tiredly whispers under his breath, maintaining your gaze, “He’s been gone for 4 years now!” he cries out, and you feel your face twist in anguish.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“It’s time to accept it y/n, you can’t keep letting him haunting you, you can’t keep being in deni—”

“Just shut up!” you yell but he relents.

“Life has moved on y/n,” his voice breaks, “it’s time that you do too!”

“But I have! Can’t you see?” tears are uncontrollably falling down your face by now, “I stayed with you despite it all!” you scream, now heaving in anger, “I had a kid with you, we bought that big old house you always wanted—”

“And why is that y/n? Why did you stay with me after his death, huh? Why?” he asks you, his questions ringing in your head, making you feel as if you were going insane.

“Because I made a choice that day!” you yell loud enough for your voice to echo across the room, everything coming to a haunting silence, “Because I chose you that night, when I could’ve chosen him,” you cry, “And I can’t bring myself to regret that choice, not anymore at least, because regretting you would mean regretting her!” you glance at the stairs, signalling that you were talking about Yejin, “And I just can’t bring myself to do that. I chose you, and I have to deal with that decision for the rest of my life. I got up from that bed years ago and went on with my life all for you—”

He shakes his head, “No you didn’t…” he frowns, “You didn’t…”

You did it for him.

“Y/N he’s dead…” Seojun repeats, his heart still wrenching for you even years later, “it’s time you let go and begin to live for yourself. Not for him, not for me, not for her, but for you,” he grabs your hand, squeezing it in the process, “It’s time you let go.”

You pull your hand back, refusing to accept it, “I just—” you muster up your tears, “I just wanted to save what was left of him. Because without it he just existed in my memory and—” your voice shakes, “and now he really only does. Because now he’s really gone,” you sob,“ Can-Can you really blame me?” you weakly say.

“I can’t,” he says, “but I also can’t keep doing this anymore,” he murmurs, “I’ve tried y/n, I really have. But I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, and I have to prioritize Yeojin first and so I think—” he struggles to continue, “I think we should get a—”

“Divorce,” you scoff, tears still flowing down your face.

He gulps, “I’ve been talking with a lawyer for about a year now, we’d get joint custody, with no need for court because I don’t see us having to make this a longer process than it needs to be.”

“You’re not taking my daughter away from me,” you clench your teeth.

“I know I’m not and I wasn’t planning on it because damn it y/n, you’re an amazing mother. Truly, you are. But—” he pauses, “But until you find closure and acceptance then I think—I think she should stay with me for the meanwhile, until you’re ready that is.”

Until you’re ready to let go.

By now you were fully sobbing again because not only were you unable to control your emotions, but because you knew he was right. Ever since Seokjin’s death, he was the one who had to hear you silently cry at night, the one who had to accept that no matter what Seokjin would always be the one dearest to you, and who secretly hoped that with time it’d be something you’d get past.

Had it been anyone else, and you were sure they would’ve left you the day Seokjin passed. But Seojun was different, Seojun understood. But he couldn’t prioritize you anymore, not with Yeojin now in the picture.

You feel his arms wrap themselves around your frame, comforting you for a final time, “I’m sorry, for everything,” he whispers.

“Me too Seojun,” you hum in return, “Me too.”

The smell of the fresh rain hitting the concrete headstones fills your nose as you make your way to the resting place of the person you once loved the most. You hadn’t been here since the funeral, too in denial to ever really visit.

It had been three months since your separation with Seojun, your arm now fully healed. Currently, you were staying at a small apartment near your parent’s house, still unable to bring yourself to stay at their place. Not with the amount of memories it brought on.

The last you’d heard, Mrs. Kim had also moved, and you assumed it was for the same reason you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home. It was just too much.

Placing the red roses on top of the headstone, you make yourself comfortable by sitting on the grass, not caring if it was moist from the rain.

You just wanted to talk to him.

“I’m getting divorced, you know?” you begin, deciding to catch him up on recent events, “Things didn’t seem to work out between me and Seojun,” you chuckle, staring at your now naked ring finger ,“Not that you hadn’t predicted it already.”

Silence.

“We had a daughter together,” you mention the hyper little girl, “Her name is Yeojin, I think you would’ve loved the name,” you say, “She—”already you feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “She sorta laughs like you, that same kind of laugh that unintentionally makes everyone around her laugh,” you begin to ramble, “she seems to like Mariah Carey as much as you too, she’s the only artist we’ve noticed that can get Yeojin up and dancing. I’m sure she would’ve loved to dance with you,” tears begin to fall from your eyes.

The soft sprinkles of the rain surprisingly soothe you.

“God, I’m such a crybaby,” you mumble, remembering how Jin would tease you for your sensitivity to things, “It’s just so hard, you know? Sometimes it still feels like you’ll walk through the door with a VHS movie you just rented in your hand, talking about how excited you are to see it after hearing reviews,” you laugh, “or that you’ll come in the room to tell me to fix your hair after cutting it crookedly.”

You place your hand on his headstone, softly grazing your palm against its rough surface, “You know scientist theorize that there’s possibly billions to an infinite number of parallel universes out there,” you chuckle, “I learned about it in my introductory course to Physics my first year in college, I don’t know if you remember me babbling about it,” you continue, “But it means that there are cosmic patches which are exactly like ours where everything has happened exactly like this one, meaning somewhere out there there’s someone exactly like us, except they have the possibility to do things different. And so... I wonder in which universe did we get our happy ending?” you solemnly ask, “I—”

“Y-Y/N?” a familiar voice says your name from behind, and immediately you turn to face the person.

“Mr-Mr.Kim?” you say in disbelief, as you hadn’t seen the man in years. Not since the final year you were still with Jin.

You scan his appearance, wrinkles and gray hairs now more prevalent on him, but yet he still looked like the spitting image of his son. He just looked more … tired.

He places the flowers in his hands next to yours, silently taking a seat next to you. You were still staring at him in shock as he was the last person you would’ve expected to see today.

“It’s—It’s been a while,” he says, and originally you were unsure if he was saying it to you or his son, that was until he turned his attention towards you.

Silently, you nod, unsure of what to say, “Yeah,” you mumble.

“Do you often come here?” he asks.

Ashamed, you nod your head no, “This is actually my first time since the funeral,” you confess.

He hums a response, not in a place to judge, “Nothing to be ashamed about little girl, we all have our own ways of grieving and coping with a loss,” and you’re surprised to hear such comforting words from him. In the years you’d known him, you couldn’t recall a time where you had an actual genuine conversation with him. It was depressing that it had to be now.

“Do—” you hesitate, “Do you?” you gulp, “Do you often come here?” you repeat his question.

Coughing first, he then responds, “Every Friday since his funeral,” his fingers tremble, and you were unsure if was because of his age or because of the topic he was currently talking about, “I do it to catch up with my boy, keep him up to date with the things you young people are doing,” he explains, eyes now glistening, “it’s the least I could do for him,” he mumbles.

A silence follows after.

Feeling bold, you ask him something you’d been curious about for a long time, “Why didn’t you come to the funeral?”

He stares at the headstone, “I—” he sighs, “He was my first born, my first son, my—” he hardens his jaw to prevent himself from crying, “The night it happened he called the house, asking me to go pick him up. I had been tired from work that night, so I went to sleep early,” you feel your heart twist, “If I hadn’t overworked myself that day, I could have picked up that phone call and told him to stay where he was, that I’d be there in no time because at the end of the day he was my son who I loved like no other, even if we had a rocky relationship. He still called his dad for help, and I—” he takes a deep breath in, feeling himself lose control, “I let him down,” he ultimately says, “And so I let the guilt eat me alive, to the point where I felt like I didn’t deserve to go to my son’s funeral.”

You stare at him in silence, understanding exactly what he felt. For you had felt that same guilt all these years.

“I quit my job following his death, and fell into a deep depression like no other. Yerin and I were even close to getting a divorce, the loss of our son adding a strain to our marriage,” he explains, “She had managed to accept and let go of her pain, but for me it was just too much. I couldn’t accept that he was gone,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t let go.”

A single tear falls from his eye.

“I was breathing , but no longer was I living,” he continues, “And so I needed to learn how to live for myself. I needed to accept that he was gone. I needed to say goodbye, even if it hurt to do so,” he smiles solemnly to himself, “because once I finally did, it was liberating.”

“And it was in that moment while talking with Mr. Kim that I’d come to realize that in order to start living for myself, that it was time to let go, that it was time to say goodbye.”

Getting up from the grass, you stare at Seokjin’s grave for one final time, for it was time to accept the cruel fate that had been given in this awful tale. One day you’d be back, that you were sure, but for now all that was left for you to say was....

“Goodbye Seokjin,” you whisper, ready to begin again.

Jimin and Jia stare at you in silence, both having dried tears and disbelief written on their faces. This couldn’t be how the story ended, right?

But it was.

“So you really have nothing to remember him by?” Jia asks, and you point to your forehead.

“Sadly all ll I have is this,” you say, “but for me that’s more than enough.”

You turn your attention towards Jimin, “And so here I am, having told you this story in order to teach you that you shouldn’t let your fears get in the way of allowing yourself to be happy, ” you say, “Because then you’ll live a life of nothing but regret,” and immediately he gets up from his seat.

“Where the hell are you—” Jia’s about to ask him something until you raise a finger, signaling to her to let him be.

“I’m-” he stutters, “I’m going to get my girlfriend back,” he breathes out, squeezing past Jia, “T-Thank you Ms. y/l/n. I mean it,” he says, and you only smile in return.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you whisper to yourself, watching as he hurriedly leaves the diner.

Placing money on the table, Jia smiles at you, “Come on Grandma, let’s go home,” she hugs you once you get up, making a new vow to herself to appreciate those around her and never take anything for granted. Just like Jimin had learned, she had to live for herself.

“Finally! I know I told you that you could stay out as long as you wanted but I didn’t think—” Yeojin is interrupted by the embrace of her daughter arm’s. Confused by the sudden act of affection, she narrows her eyes, “If this is some trick into getting your phone little—”

“Shhh,” Jia complains, “I can’t hug my mom?”

Allowing her skepticism to pass, Yeojin returns the hug, “Movie night?” she asks her daughter and immediately she nods.

You smile at the sight, making your way up the stairs and into your room.

Slowly, you crouch under the bed, pulling out a worn out box from under your bed, grabbing a small flash drive out of it in the process. Placing the now vintage item into the plug-in of your TV, your mind flashes back to that last conversation you had with Mr. Kim.

“Wait,” Mr. Kim stops you from leaving, pulling something out of his suit’s breast pocket, in what seemed to be a flash drive?

Handing you the small item, you look at him confused, “I found it in his room when we moved, not too long after his passing, I’m guessing he must’ve converted it before breaking that old camera of his and well I always carried it around just in case—” he pauses, “Just in case I ever bumped into you.”

You furrow your brows, why was he telling you this now? Why didn’t he look for you instead?

As if reading your mind he says, “Because you’ve finally said your goodbye,” he smiles, “watch this when you’re finally allowed to look back. "

Pressing play, you stare at the screen in front of you.

“Seokjin!” the person behind the camera sighs, “Seokjin!” Mrs. Kim yells again, and the camera begins to shake, presumably because the person was now going down the stairs.

The camera soon pans to the twins, both of them giggling at the cameraman's antics, “Say hiiii,” he cooes. And soon the door he’s recording opens and the camera pans to a 17 year old you, an awkward expression being worn on your face.

“Woah,” he whispers, zooming in on your face.

Your eyes begin to water as you watch the recorded memory.

“Seokjin, but you can call me Jin for short,” he introduces himself, the camera now recording the wall beside him, probably because of how he was carrying it in that moment.

The scene then changes.

“Come on, you know you wanna smileeee,” Jin sings, he closes the camera to your face, ultimately making you smile.

“Well cheers to a new friendship,” Taehyung announces and Jin records you all lifting your hands in the air.

The scene changes again.

“This is her first time eating kongguksu everyone,” Jin announces.

“Who are you even talking to?” you roll your eyes, grabbing the noodles with your chopsticks.

“To the people of the future!”

And you recall how Jin had winked at you that time, causing your crush on him to begin to grow more intense.

Your face gets red as he continues to record you. Taking a slurp of the noodles, you try to cover your face.

“Well what do you think?” he asks.

Your face twists, “Mmmm I don’t know,” you mumble, the taste not exactly being your favorite.

“Boooo!”

You flash him the middle finger.

The scene changes.

“Y/N” the camera begins to move around, and your giggles begin to get louder, “Hand that back to me!” the camera begins to move in an up and down motion, probably because whoever was holding it was running.

Soon the person gets tackled, but not before panning the camera onto Seokjin’s face.

“And the recorder finally gets recorded,” you laugh, and Jin attempts to cover his face, but you’re quick to remove his hands. He awkwardly avoids eye contact, allowing you to record his face.

You feel your breath hitch. It was Jin… the Jin you knew, the Jin you fell in love with. Right there in front of you.

Looking at the camera he quickly makes a kissy face, making you shriek in excitement. “There you have it folks,” you tease him, “Kim Seokjin being the model he is…”

He rolls his eyes, now attempting to reach for the camera.

“Okay okay, that’s enough,” he groans as you relent.

“Smileeee!”

The scene changes for a final time, and you see Jin sitting in his room, facing the camera you presumed he had set up.

“Hello!” he awkwardly waves to the camera, “If you’re watching this it means one, you’ve been snooping around in this room or two, you’re Y/N.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, and your body going numb.

“Ah I don’t know how to start this,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “When I first met you, I thought you were really pretty,” he begins, “and I knew I wanted to be your friend! What I didn’t think was going to happen was that I’d end up really really realllyyyy liking you,” he laughs, “I’ve been trying to tell you for some time now,” his voice cracks, and immediately he begins to cough, trying to make himself sound as manly as possible, “So I thought why not tell you the best way I knew how … through film! That way I’ll let this video do all the work for me,” he smiles.

You laugh at how endearing he was.

“Hopefully you like me too because if not then I feel really bad for the future Jin who’s probably attentively watching your reaction and crossing his fingers. I made this collage of memories using the shitty editing programs we have at the school library so sorry if it’s not exactly the best, but …. I hope this is something you can look back on in the future and be glad I recorded, even if you complained all the time.”

Look at him, predicting the future.

“So… I’ll leave it to the future Jin to handle the rest,” he laughs, “Byeeee!” he waves to the camera. His final goodbye.

5 years later.

“Mom, slow down!” Yeojin instructs, worried about how fast you were trying to walk.

“If you can’t keep up with me, an 80 year old lady, then that should be a concern for you, not for me!” you continue with your daily walk, enjoying the spring weather.

“If you’re not careful you cou—” Yeojin suddenly stops speaking, now having caught up to you. “Mom?” Yeojin asks, concerned as to what you two were staring at with such a shocked expression on your face. Following your gaze, she notices a man staring at you a little girl tugging at his shirt.

“Daddy! I wanna play on the swings!” she pouts at the lack of attention her father was giving her. Immediately you recognize the woman sitting on the bench behind them, remembering her once crying face which was now replaced with a grin as she carried a second (younger) child in her arms.

Slowly the man raises his hand, waving at you with a warm smile on his face.

A single tear falls from your eye as you wave back, your heart swelling at the sight.

And as quick as the moment was, it ended just as fast. As slowly, you began to walk away, while he went on to play with this young daughter. Two strangers crossing paths for a final time.

“Do you know that man?” Yeojin cluelessly asks, confused about the exchange that just happened in front of her.

You nod your head, a smile still on your face, “No,” you chuckle, “No I don’t,” you ultimately say, continuing with your walk.

a/n: whew ! & that’s the end ! if you’ve made it this far then i want to personally thank you! i don’t really expect this story to get many notes well because it’s sad and well ik i personally don’t normally click on major character death fics haha. if you enjoyed this fic then (if you can) please please please leave a comment/review/like/reblog (whichever works best for you) and you can always hop in my ask box for any questions or comments :) im thinking of making an alternative ending for this one day, maybe after i finish the whole tun series, but we’ll see haha. ill see yall next time ! <3

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neocatharsis · 3 years

Text

NCT’s Mark Lee on Dreams, Instagram Poetry, and Growing Up

Mark has a lot going on — but he’s making time for poetry, introspection, and, of course, the members of NCT Dream. - Vivien Wu

“I’ve been thinking about dreams a lot these days!” Mark Lee exclaims over Zoom from SM Entertainment’s Seoul headquarters.

The 21-year-old leader of NCT Dream is enthusiastic as he mulls over the meaning of dreams, his back against a wall of pink and yellow flowers assembled by his fellow NCT members. He’s wearing a simple, white tee, and when he gestures with his hands, you can catch glimpses of the friendship ring that all seven members of NCT Dream wear as a symbol of their bond.

“I actually feel like dreams hold a large portion of a life, and I’m not just talking about the subconscious dreams that we all have when we sleep,” he continues. “If you put it in a way where dreams are actually things that motivate us, and the drive that keeps us going, especially as a strongly driven person myself, I feel like… a guy with no dreams is like…” He looks up, thinking. “…A car with no engine. So, I think it’s as important as yourself. That’s how deep I go with dreams.”

His interest in dreams is fitting, considering that they are also the central, underlying concept to the lore behind NCT Dream’s parent group, NCT. They connect their three subunits, NCT 127, NCT Dream, and WayV, in a complex, Inception-inspired fictional universe where dreams are the only way they can find each other, and where upon uniting they can mix to form new subunits collectively referred to as NCT U. In practical terms, this has resulted in a 23-member mega-group that is multifaceted in every way — from their musical styles and visual aesthetics to their cultural backgrounds and spoken languages.

NCT Dream’s original teenage concept meant that members were supposed to “graduate” when they came of age, and as the oldest, Mark was the first to leave the group at the end of 2018. Having grown attached, however, fans were devastated at his departure; after a year of separation, SM announced that the graduation system would be scrapped and that he would rejoin the group. Their new album, Hot Sauce, is the first with Mark in over two years. As fellow member Haechan declared in an interview with Teen Vogue earlier this week, “Mark [is] very special. NCT Dream means Mark.”

But before the rapper led NCT Dream, and before he joined NCT U and NCT 127 and SuperM — the man is in high demand — Mark’s childhood dream was writing. He grew up in Toronto, and through doing school projects and essays quickly discovered that he had a natural way with words. Inspired by Percy Jackson author Rick Riordan, Harry Potter, and James Patterson, Mark dreamt of becoming an author, long before he was recruited by SM at a global audition in Canada in 2012. “When I was in school, I was always the kind of guy who would write more than expected, and that became a thing that clicked for me,” he says. “I was like, ‘Maybe it’s something that I naturally do?’ But then that kind of turned into rap writing too, so I guess they kind of clicked together.” It explains his prolific career as a lyricist; since debuting, he’s amassed over 30 songwriting credits across his various groups, contributing to songs as iconic as NCT U’s “Boss,” NCT 127’s “Cherry Bomb,” and NCT Dream’s “Chewing Gum.”

Even with such an extensive body of work, however, penning lyrics hasn’t satiated his appetite for literary expression. In an interview with Japanese magazine Men’s Non-No, he revealed that he still hopes one day to write a book, whether that be a novel, autobiography, or something more philosophical.

In the meantime, he’s taken to writing what are basically short poems on his Instagram, which he created just a few months ago. He’s gathered over 4.5 million followers since then, but having such a large audience hasn’t deterred him from being endearingly vulnerable with the way he writes. When I refer to them as poems, he laughs and looks embarrassed, but when I ask him to tell me the stories behind them, he’s enthusiastic again. They’re short, but offer brief glimpses into Mark the writer — sharp, inquisitive, and thoughtful. As pieces of literature, they’re a little rough around the edges, but the sincerity he’s known for shines through, illuminating the introspective, philosophical side that may not be so obvious in person.

His first poem, loosely titled “Late Night Scribbling,” put into words his musings about sleep, thoughts, feelings, and writing. It meanders from topic to topic, hovering between feelings of hope and hopelessness, before ending with a comically awkward “haha.”

“I actually wrote that by imagining how I wanted to organize my Instagram page,” he explains. “I was thinking of creating an Instagram, then I realized that, well, I’m not really a picture kind of guy, I’m not really a travelling kind of guy… I kind of studied who I am first, and I [asked myself], ‘What’s something that I can really portray in an intimate way?’ and it turned out to be writing.”

“I started to brainstorm what kind of topics I could write about, and then from there on, I started to write a little each and every night, and that turned into Late Night Scribbling,” he continues. “That kind of gave me courage to start Instagram in the first place, that piece of writing.”

Two weeks later, he followed it up with “Black Socks,” a whimsical ode to, well, black socks — complete with accompanying photos of him wearing said socks. Immediately, it feels more confident and cohesive than its predecessor. Using the neat and tidy look of black socks as a metaphor, he describes his own mindset for living life: “Pleasure from perfect alignment; That also goes for my ability to be parallel with my thoughts and actions; I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep it consistent even when forgotten like a working habit.”

Comments on the posts praise his writing and encourage him to continue sharing these small pieces of himself. On the stage, Mark takes on a confident, larger-than-life persona, while in vlogs and spoken interviews, he’s a bubbly character full of laughter and boyish charm. What the poems show is that, beneath these outer appearances, there’s another layer of complexity that is yet to be fully explored, and it’s not surprising that fans want to know more.

His day job as a K-pop idol doesn’t allow a lot of time for hobbies, though, and he confesses to not having written much lately. Despite that, he’s determined to stay in the industry for as long as possible. “Longevity is something that I’ve always been aiming for,” he says. “I’m willing to do this for a long time, and that requires a lot of work. I’m willing to take that as a challenge and I’m trying to stay as long as I can, but with quality.”

That focus on quality informs his preparations for the upcoming promotions with NCT Dream. In both their fictional world and ours, NCT Dream are a central component of NCT by virtue of their unique focus on growth — the seven members were aged between 14 and 17 when the group first debuted in 2016. Fast-forward five years, and the members are now 19 to 21, having reached a milestone in January when the youngest, Jisung, finally became a legal adult in Korea. When asked if he feels like an adult yet, though, Mark gives an extremely relatable answer with zero hesitation.

“I still feel like I’m in middle school, I’m gonna be totally honest. I swear to God, I feel like I’m… All right, I’ll put it up — I feel like I’m in high school!” He laughs. “I even had this talk with Jisung, ‘cos he’s the latest that turned into an adult. He said that he still feels like he’s a student, he doesn’t feel like he’s 20 [19 in international age] right now.”

It’s been a long time since all seven Dream members — Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung — have released an album together, and as the first full-length album since their debut, the fan anticipation is palpably intense. Mark himself has mentioned in various vlogs how important he believes this comeback to be, and that conviction becomes obvious whenever he talks about it.

“We had a talk all together, the seven of us, without any cameras or anything. I brought all the guys together and we talked before the whole momentum started, and I said that I’m willing to put my everything on this one. Like, I always had, but I feel like… the whole universe, or like— ” He pauses, trying to figure out how to articulate himself, and his next line is the most emphatic of our whole conversation. “There are things that are out of our control, but we can see and feel when the pieces match together sometimes, and I feel like this specific moment, this particular album, kind of had those essential parts.”

He’s thinking about all of the context surrounding this comeback: the group’s coming of age, the reunion of all seven members, the scale of the album, the fact that Jisung has only just recovered from a leg injury that meant he couldn’t dance for months — even the fact that 2020 was, against all odds, the best year yet for NCT, with release after release bringing them unprecedented success and momentum.

“I felt that coming and I explained all of that [to the group],” he continues. “This whole period of time has a lot of meaning to it, and we’re not taking that for granted, we’re working hard.” With everything that’s happened, Hot Sauce is a historic moment for NCT Dream, and that’s been reflected in their numbers — the album clocked over 1.7 million pre-orders, obliterating their previous record of 500,000 for last year’s EP, Reload.

Their familial bond and the success that has come with it is the culmination of years spent living, working, and growing up together. The members have collectively missed out on key experiences that most teenagers might take for granted, distanced as they are from normal life, and the group also benefits from an unusually loose adherence to traditional Korean age hierarchy. The result is a brotherhood that goes beyond just being colleagues. “What we have is pretty intimate, and it’s also genuine,” Mark says.

About his role, he is matter of fact. “I’m by far the most easily approachable punching bag for the team. I am not… complaining…” He laughs. “But all jokes aside, I feel like my role for this team… Yes, I am the oldest and I am the leader but I’m also… In Korea, in the culture, age is very important, but we’ve come so far that all those borders kind of just vanished and we’re all pretty much friends, and I guess I’m just a friend of theirs too.”

It’s true that, despite being the leader, his friendly personality and endearingly awkward mannerisms mean that he commands about as much authority as a small puppy. Instead, much like a puppy, he is showered with love and affection (fellow member Chenle refers to Mark as his son and his actual puppy Daegal as Mark’s little sister), but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a dependable leader figure. The opposite is true — in Renjun’s words, Mark’s presence unites the group in a way that makes him irreplaceable.

And while this may be the fifth year since their debut, in the grand scheme of things, the members of NCT Dream are still very, very young — by most standards, they would still be considered to have their entire careers ahead of them. Growth has brought them here, but where does Mark think it will take them in the future?

“Growing just never stops for us, I can see us growing continuously, endlessly,” he replies. “What the future holds is something that we will never know, but we always do try to prepare during the present, and so with whatever time we have currently and with whatever album, or whatever stage, or whatever piece of music it may be, we’re willing to make sure that we have the next one coming too.”

A final thought. “I’m glad that we’re striving for that, ‘cos we started off as…” Mark shakes his head, “…as babies.”

#nct #nct dream #Mark #nct 127

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radiosandrecordings · 4 years

Note

Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!

“Ahaha, I’ll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!” I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting

CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.

Ao3 version too

They’d probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable.

It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.

And wasn’t that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasn’t quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario.

The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The “Where are we” and the “How long were we asleep?” and the “Is it finally safe to rest?” and the “I love you so, so much.”

Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martin’s stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time they’d felt mundane hunger?

“Do you think they even have food here?” Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet.

“Perhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.”

“Yeah, but Annabelle though,” Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. “What if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and it’s just… Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. There’s one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.”

Jon winces. “I’d really rather not picture that right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, course,” Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. “Should probably go check though. Don’t exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though I’d happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Don’t think I’ve slept that well in… Ever.”

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I’m quite peckish as well… Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.” Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. “Probably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.”

“You want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?” Martin asks, prying the duvet away like he’s pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they can’t just stay in bed all day. He hadn’t been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.

“I think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so I’d rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.” Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound… His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower.

When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. It’s a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood.

“You want to go first then?” Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again.

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.”

Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes.

Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in… However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin he’d be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesn’t want to close the door. He doesn’t want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now.

“... Jon? You okay?”

Jon realises he’s been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words.

Martin shifts, sitting back up again. “Jon, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

It comes out like a croak. “I- I don’t Know.”

Martin’s tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jon’s direction. “You don’t know what’s wrong?”

“No, I don’t Know,” he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. He’s gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that he’d watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know he’s there.

Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. “And- And that should be a good thing. It should. I don’t want to Know. But it’s… I’ve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels… It’s raw and it’s vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and I’m vulnerable and that means you are too. If I’m in another room, I can’t Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I can’t save you.”

The right wrapped around to hold Jon’s left hip, Martin’s free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels.

“Jon,” he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didn’t even consider how it would feel for you. I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, because… Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.” He brushes Jon’s fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. “Tub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?”

Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively… Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of… Intimacy.

Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. “I’m sorry, if that’s too much, we can just-”

“No,” Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. “No, I… I would like that. That sounds nice.”

He knows it’s from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look.

“Forgive me for being blunt, but you really don’t seem up for that. If that’s not in your… Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.”

“I’m just a little shaken, is all,” Jon says, but he knows there’s a truth to Martin’s words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, they’d had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martin’s side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isn’t what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but there’s still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn.

It’s not that he was bashful about it. He’d seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed… No, that wouldn’t be happening.

“I- Can I make one request, though?” Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martin’s.

“Anything,” Martin replies, no hesitation to be found.

Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. “Can- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-”

“No, no that’s okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,” Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it.

They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.

Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner.

“Find something you like?” Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface.

When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jon’s of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?

Martin cleared his throat. “Do you mind, then, if I…?”

“Yes, of course, go ahead.”

Martin pulled his shirt over his head.

It’s not that Jon didn’t find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didn’t change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him.

He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, he’s fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that he hadn’t trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief.

“Shall we?” Martin asks, gesturing towards the water.

“Let’s,” Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water.

He’s just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. There’s not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jon’s just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martin’s hips.

If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon can’t bring himself to care for relief that it’s no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth he’s finding it hard not to fall asleep again.

“This okay?” Martin asks, because he’s still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries.

“Far more than okay,” he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except he’s wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadn’t quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake.

They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo.

“Here, let me,” Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. “If you want, that is. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you want me to do your hair? It’s just- It’s probably easier, y’know, than you trying to do it yourself.”

“And far more romantic,” Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martin’s freshly cleaned cheek.

“That too. Do you want to turn around?”

Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until he’s facing away from Martin. He’s surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martin’s arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martin’s chest. It’s very intimate. It’s very nice.

“That okay?” Martin asks again, and more than ‘I love you’, that’s a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort.

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff.

When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jon’s scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martin’s chest, and it’s only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there.

“I really hope that was a positive thing and you haven’t just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,” Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martin’s chest.

“Still conscious, don’t worry. That’s just… Very nice.”

“Oh! Well… Good.”

This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jon’s hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martin’s hands. Even when Jon knows he’s long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.

Eventually, both of Martin’s hands come to rest against Jon’s torso. “This okay?”

“Yes. I don’t mind any of the touching, as long as it’s… Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.”

“Gotcha,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks.

It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars.

Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jon’s brain has gone a little fuzzy. He’s unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if he’s being honest, it’s working. No ulterior motive. This isn’t the lead up to anything. It just exists on it’s own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing.

After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jon’s elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jon’s neck.

He’s perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesn’t know what he did to deserve… This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.

Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martin’s chin. Martin’s knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.

#My Post #The Magnus Archives #Jonmartin #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood #My Writing #dickwheelie

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

DATING PENTAGON A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Yeo Changgu

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Changgu loves to get cuddly with you, he enjoys being able to relax with his arms around you, even just for a few seconds, forgetting about how hectic his life is, means a lot to him, finding comfort in your touch.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

When the two of you first met, Changgu was incredibly shy, Jinho ended up having to tell you his name because he was so quiet around you. Slowly though, as the two of you got to know each other a little better, those walls began to break down and the two of you got to know each other probably at work.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

You’d forgotten how shy Changgu ever was when it came to his confession, he ended up rambling for what felt like forever in front of you, telling you exactly how he felt about you, making sure that he didn’t miss out a single detail. He ended up talking your ear off for most of the evening, eventually getting to his confession after almost an hour, surprised to see you still awake in front of him and nodding his head.

D ⇴ DATES

Changgu enjoys being able to relax alongside you at the end of the day, curling up on his bed and watching a drama, or at least trying to get in a few episodes before one of you falls asleep. As mentioned earlier, being able to be around you and have your touch on him helps him to forget about his day and focuses his mind on the programme that the two of you are watching. It’ll usually end up being Changgu that falls asleep curled into you first, to which you always make sure to pause the drama, otherwise he’ll kill you in the morning.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

He’s very open with you from the start about the concerns he has about your relationship, how he worries about you, the fans, and the group too, but never himself. Once he gets talking on his worries, whether its around you, his family, or the group, it’s another time when it’s pretty difficult to shut him up. He tends to waffle a lot, his mind turns into a vicious cycle, when one concern crops up for him, it’s not long until a few more arise and he really finds himself getting into a bit of a spin in front of whoever’s listening.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Anytime the two of you begin to argue with one another, the shy side of Changgu you knew when you first met comes out to play. It’s the one time you’ll find him quite opposite, and quiet, he’ll never quite know what to say out of fear of getting it wrong and ending up making the situation worse between the two of you. Arguing is one thing Changgu hates, more than anything in the world, he’ll often freeze in the situation and zone out. Then, once you’ve offloaded, as calmly as he can, he’ll try and work through whatever the issue was and try and talk with you like adults, without all the shouting.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

The first person you met was Changgu’s older sister, which quickly turned into a decision Changgu regretted. From the moment you met, the two of you were a little tag team against him, sharing all your terrible stories and embarrassing memories you had of him, ignoring just how embarrassed it often made him in front of you.

H ⇴ HOME

Changgu loved the dorm and having people around him all of the time, which you understood, especially as he had his own room too. You were in no rush to make him move out, in fact you enjoyed spending time with the other members too and getting to know some of the most important people in his life.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

It became a habit of Changgu’s around you to ramble whenever he was talking about his feelings, so much so that he ended up accidentally telling you that he loved you on one specific occasion. He almost skipped by it, until you held your hand out for him to stop, asking him to repeat what he’d just said, making sure you heard him correctly.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Whenever Changgu feels jealous, you’ll be able to tell by how quiet he becomes. He can talk to most people, and hold a conversation pretty well, so when you feel as if he’s starting to slip out of a conversation, you’ll know what’s wrong. It’s a steady decline, slowly feeling his confidence disappear and his shyness creep in, fearful as to what might happen. Luckily for him, by that point, you’ve usually picked up on what’s going on, stepping in and reassuring him before he disengages too heavily with what’s going on.

K ⇴ KIDS

The future is another thing that Changgu will love to look forward to with you, he can’t help himself but get excited when he thinks about all the things you could do together in the future. And one of those things is definitely start a family, the thought of having a family has always excited Changgu but knowing that he now has you to dream about it with, makes him happier than he could ever explain to you.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

You can’t help but laugh at things that often come out of Changgu’s mouth, you’re not sure how one person can talk so much, and talk so much nonsense at the same time, but somehow Changgu manages. He’ll often end up having to stop talking to ask you what’s so funny, as you sit before him in fits of giggles, trying to make sense of what he’s said. Changgu himself is usually unaware of the things that he says but knowing that whatever it was that was said has ended up putting a smile on his face, will be more than enough for him, quickly picking back up where he left up on his one-sided conversation.

M ⇴ MISSING

It’s easy for anyone to pick up on when Changgu’s missing you, because like when he’s jealous, he’ll become very quiet indeed. When he’s not laughing at a joke, or not chiming into conversation, the other members will know exactly what’s going on, instantly checking in on him and trying to bring the smile back to his face. They know it’s hard for him to constantly be the chatty one in the group when his mind can only think of you, and so they’ll always support him when he feels like he needs a bit of quiet, but as soon as he’s feeling better and ready to talk again, they’ll be there to listen, no matter how sometimes reluctant they are.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

You always call Changgu your ‘chatterbox,’ because he really doesn’t stop talking. You love how chatty he can be, around him, you’re guaranteed to pretty much never get a moment of peace and quiet to enjoy the silence.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He’s obsessed with your smile, knowing that you’re happy with him is the only thing that Changgu ever wants, anything else is simply just an added bonus.

P ⇴ PDA

Keeping your safe is the only thing Changgu worries about whenever he’s affectionate with you in public. Whilst he can talk his way out of most situations, it’s not always the same for you, and so he’ll usually use his arms a little more to a clear a way for you both and make sure that you’re as relaxed as can be.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

If Changgu is ever quiet around you, you’ll always make sure to ask him if he’s alright, concerned as to why he’s fallen so silent. That’s how uncharacteristic it is of him to be quiet, always making you worry just a little bit.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Changgu loves to take photos of you, especially one where he knows you’re not paying attention. He’ll often pull out his phone when he notices you staring off into the distance, snapping a quick photo and making sure to save it to the album that is specifically dedicated to all of the candid photos he has of you, always looking through it whenever he’s missing you, especially so when he’s on the road.

S ⇴ SEX

When the two of you are intimate, Changgu is always very attentive to what you want from him, and a great speaker too. Those rambles he often gives when he wants to tell you how he feels will turn into quieter whispers of sweet nothings in your ear, making sure that you’re always shy. He’s always open with his heart, especially so when the two of you are intimate, making sure you feel as loved as you possibly can.

T ⇴ TEXTS

After every mealtime, you sit by your phone and wait for the text to come through from Changgu to make sure that you’re eating. It’s his biggest worry, making sure that you’re taking care of yourself, so he’ll always check in.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Having someone there to always listen, whether it’s good or bad, funny or emotional, means a lot to Changgu. He knows he can talk most people’s ears off, and yet you’ll always listen to his every word and pay him your full attention.

V ⇴ VACATION

Anywhere in the world you want to go, Changgu will take you when the two of you get the chance to go away. He’s been to enough places through tours and schedules, he much prefers to give you the chance to tick somewhere off your bucket list, no matter how much you argue that it might be somewhere he’s been before.

W ⇴ WHINING

It’s almost natural of Changgu to whine when he’s talking to you about something frustrating, he almost doesn’t realise he’s doing it most of the time.

X ⇴ XXXXX

The place he’ll love to kiss the most is always the top of your head; he loves being able to rest on top of you and press you tightly against his chest. For you, you’ll normally find yourself having to kiss against his lips, just so you can get a moment of silence to yourself. A kiss on the lips is a sign that Changgu can very quickly pick up on, muttering a quick apology before finally telling himself to stop talking for a while.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were a great listener, somehow you always paid attention to every single word.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

The quiet you got at night-time was always well received, although you would often end up falling asleep listening to Changgu mutter to himself about anything that came to mind, knowing you probably switched off long ago.

---

Masterlist

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Note

that dating headcanon was everything🥺 could u do an nsfw one??? l

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: SFW headcanons can be read here. Hope you enjoy, love bug!! I could go on for hours about this, but I tried to keep my rambling to a minimum. Requests are still open. Take care and tpwk.

First and foremost, Harry radiates the most soft dom energy I have ever seen in a human

I think he enjoys a good power dynmanic and kink, but at the end of the day sex to him is about having fun and doing what feels good

“Team work makes the dream work,” is something I’m almost positive his corny ass would blurt out one night post coitus when you’re both coming down from your highs

I don’t even mean this in a nsfw way (but also I do), but I genuinely believe Harry is one of those boyfriends who likes to have his hands on you as much as it is physically possible

A hand on the small of your back when you’re in public, your bare leg hiked over his while you’re watching tv, his hand resting on your knee while he drives

He’s all about intimacy, even if it isn’t sexual in nature

With this being said, it definitely does turn sexual in nature more often than not

When you’re cuddled up on the sofa watching a shitty horror film and you accidentally grind yourself against him when you reach over for your mug and then you feel him growing hard against your backside, you know you’ve got approximately 7 minutes before the movie is long forgotten and Harry’s got you spread out on the cushions

He’s much more of a giver than he is a receiver

(But let’s be honest he certainly doesn’t mind kicking back and letting you do all of the work from time to time)

He gets off knowing he’s the one getting YOU off

It’s almost addictive to him

So, clearly, he loves going down on you

One too many times have you been stirred from your sleep to feel Harry’s stubble grazing your stomach and moving down towards your navel and you know exactly what he wants

But he won’t give it all to you that easily

He teases you until you’re squirming and practically bucking your hips up into his lips, anything to feel more friction against the heat that Harry has created

Tiny, featherlight kisses on the insides of your thighs and around your core

Everywhere but where you need him the most

He thinks it makes you taste even sweeter knowing how badly you want his tongue on you

He loves eating you until your thighs are trembling and he has to force them to stay open by gripping them so harshly that you end up with ring marks pressed into your skin

He takes care of you, meaning he refuses to stop until he makes you cum

Not in an aggressive way, just that he doesn’t see the point in having sex if the two of you aren’t having equally as much fun, ya know?

As far as actual sex goes, Harry is a powerhouse

He’s got more stamina out of anyone you’ve ever met, and it sometimes has you wondering if he’s even human sometimes

He can go for quite literally hours without letting up even a tiny bit, his hips drilling into you until you’ve got bruises and are sore the next morning

Only to add to how much of a little shit we all know Harry is, watching you limp around his house the next morning is one of the most satisfying and entertaining things to him

I think he is the king of trying out new positions and working out what feels right and what doesn’t, but he’ll always prefer some good old fashioned missionary over any kinky, yoga sex position

It’s more intimate and personal to him, being able to see how pleasure washes over your face as he drives himself further and further into you

How your bodies are as close together as they can possibly be

It’s simple, but when you love someone, it’s enough

However, I get the sense that Harry is totally down to experiment in the bedroom

As I said earlier, I am certain that Harry enjoys indulging in some of his kinks every now and then

First and foremost, this man has a BREEDING KINK

He loves filling you up with his cum and watching it overflow and seep out of you and then gathering the excess on his fingers and stuffing it back inside of you

It is somewhat of a territorial thing, marking you as his and his only

But it’s also a trust thing, that you both love each other enough to indulge in the most primitive of acts, and Harry is all about that

I’m not going to go off on a tangent about how Harry eventually gets off on the idea of breeding you to actually get you pregnant, but it’s true so it must be at least mentioned in this post

Something about seeing you round and glowing with his baby, one that you created together, makes him feel some type of way

If it’s possible, he’s even hornier when you’re pregnant

He loves leaning against the headboard and having you ride him with your belly in between the two of you

ANYWAYS

Apart from the vanilla shenanigans and the massive breeding kink, I also totally see Harry as the type to have an entire marketplace of toys hidden in a trunk underneath his bed or in his closet

Whether it’s expensive leather restraints that he loves to tie you up with or an array of different types of vibrators that he loves to turn on and watch you get off without his hand, he’s got just about one of everything so he’s always prepared

There are also times when he loves to let you take control as well

Sometimes it’s when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders and all he wants to do is let someone else take care of things for once or simply if he’s just in the mood to be submissive, the man truly has the range

But he will always reign as a soft dom

When he’s on tour, he loves calling you to help him get off

He’ll always do the same in return for you, but he misses your presence so much while he’s away that taking care of himself alone isn’t nearly the same

Which is why you sometimes receive texts or calls at odd hours of the night from Harry asking you to talk to him while he strokes his cock

He loves watching you get off as well, so if the timing lines up, he’s prone to video chatting you so that you can both watch each other while you work your way over the edge

Not to be a crackhead, but Harry definitely bought of those Clone-A-Willy’s for you to use while he’s away

I wouldn’t say Harry’s so much into the act of risky, public sex as much as he really is just that horny and utilizes every advantage he can to get you both off, even if it means everyone knows exactly what you two were doing when you both come out of the same room with ruffled hair and are breathing heavy like you just ran a marathon

After a high energy show, when his veins are pumping with adrenaline and he swears performing makes him feel higher than any drug, he’ll beeline to the room where you were waiting for him in and have his way with you right there on the couch (or the closet, or the bathroom, or the back of his bus if he’s using one)

When he comes home from the studio to see you cooking in only one of his ratty t-shirts and your underwear, he sees no problem in hoisting you up on the cold, marble countertop and letting his dinner burn in the name of a good shag

I also think Harry is an angry sex type of guy as well

The last thing he wants is to hold grudges over you, so if you’re arguing and only going in circles and Harry is well aware you both will be over whatever it was that you were mad about in the morning, said argument usually ends abruptly when Harry backs you up against the wall and smashes his lips against yours

His thrusts are even more intense and sharp and you can see the slight snarl in his lip as he grips the headboard harshly and properly makes a mess of you

Harry really is an every-occasion guy when it comes to sex and that is a given, but I also think he leans on sex when he’s sad or upset?

Like if he’s just having a day where everything is getting under his skin and he feels small, he comes to you with those lust blown, yet dull-looking eyes that let you know he really just needs you right now

You let him take what he needs, because he does more for you than you could ever explain with words and if what he needs is a little bit of sex to make everything feel okay, even if it’s only temporary relief, it’s the least you feel like you can do

To feel his hips roll lazily into yours and to feel his warm breath trailing all over your face and maybe the occasional tear fall from his cheek that you brush away with your thumb as you cradle his face

Times like these often resort in cockwarming, where Harry just needs to feel you and know that you’re there and you’re not going anywhere

He tries not to let things get to him and often regrets the ways he choses to cope with how he sometimes thinks he’ll never catch a break, but he always talks when he’s ready, so nothing ever goes unmentioned

Plus, he knows he’d do the same thing for you in a heart beat

Harry is the softest lover and those are just the facts!

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #asks

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meltwonu · 4 years

Text

s n a k e | e y e s [chapter 3]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; 🥺💕thank you for all the interest in snake eyes!! I can't believe it!! y’all don’t know how happy that makes me because I love this au!! 💕💕💕 in this chapter: jihoonie makes a small oopsies 🥴oral(female receiving), minor switch!woozi, hehehe... im sorry, im mean and u will know why 😭😭💕 also this chapter is long, strap in for the long ass ride!! yeehaw

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x - x - x

It takes a week and a half for you and Jihoon to really fall into a rhythm that suits his and your needs.

Jihoon is still shy around you, only spending an hour or two with you while you work until he feels too awkward again, slinking away back into his room. You wonder, periodically, if he happened to hear what you were doing in your bedroom the night he came to stay with you and if that was the reason he’d been so shy and quiet around you. But you quickly shake the thoughts out of your head, preferring to believe that he hadn’t, for your sake and his. Jihoon had never mentioned anything to you anyway, so you had no reason to believe he’d heard anything.

But it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon that has you bundled up in an oversized sweater on the living room sofa, laptop haphazardly on a side table while you take a break from writing. A movie plays quietly on the tv in front of you, but you don’t really pay attention to it. Jihoon emerges from his room, covered up in a big sweater and his sweats as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“It’s… r-really cold today…” His voice is soft, almost a whisper, as he pulls his legs up onto the sofa, crossing them as he tries to cover his skin. “I… kinda had a h-hard time sleeping.”

“Did you need more heaters? The forecast said it’s supposed to rain for the next couple days, Jihoon…” You trail off, already sliding off of the sofa as you fetch a blanket for the cold male. “I can go pick you up another one tomorrow, if you’d like?” Draping the soft blanket over him, he thanks you, snuggling into the soft material. “If it’s okay… I don’t want you to go out of your way if it’s too much.” You chuckle, settling into your spot on the sofa again as you pick up your laptop to get a bit of work done.

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable here.”

Jihoon’s stomach grumbles 45 minutes later as he sinks deeper into the plush blanket, hiding the flush that covers his cheeks. You laugh slightly, already hopping off to make him and yourself a snack to eat.

“You’re more than welcome to rummage the kitchen whenever you want, y’kno. Or if you want me to make you something to eat, you can always ask.”

“Sorry I’m just… still getting used to it. You’re definitely nicer than my past owners.” You hum, curious about how his previous owners treated him for him to be this shy, or if he was just naturally always this timid. “It’s okay! Take your time. I know it’s weird but I’m… I’m still getting used to it too.” You feel your body heating up, suddenly reminded of a questionable dream you’d had the previous night; the cute snake hybrid invading even your mind when you slept recently. God I really need to get laid somehow, you think, maybe that cute barista from down the street would be interested? I think his name was Jun. Reminder to self to get his number next time.

You grab a pan, setting it onto the stove as you gather ingredients to make ddeokbokki; something that Jihoon really loved to snack on. “Hey, Jihoon? Did you wanna help me make this? I can teach you a bit!”

There’s a shuffling from the living room before the blonde haired male steps into the kitchen, a curious look on his face.

“I’ve never cooked before though…”

“It’ s okay! I can teach you. Just so that.. Um, just in case I’m not home or something and you get hungry?” He nods, stepping closer towards you as you set various ingredients onto the counter top. “Okay, I’ll just... Watch you.” You smile at him, urging him to come closer as you begin explaining what to do. But Jihoon’s mind fixates on something else, your voice getting drowned out when he feels the warmth radiating off of your body when he steps closer. Unbeknownst to you, Jihoon decides to stand almost directly behind you as you continue to explain how to cook to him.

When his hands start to slide up the hem of your sweater, you pause, setting the measuring cup back onto the counter top where it was before. Jihoon’s cold fingertips begin traveling up your sides, delicately caressing your skin under your sweater. Your breath is caught in your throat when he then leans his head over your shoulder, his tongue softly lapping at the exposed skin of your neck. A moan catches in your throat when you realize your body’s already rapidly heating up at his touch, the snake hybrid behind you also letting out a tiny moan of his own when he realizes how warm you’ve gotten.

But you snap back to reality, panic taking over when you let out a garbled noise, pushing back against Jihoon.

“Oh my g-god, wait--wh--”

Jihoon panics, pupils shaking as he pulls away completely, pressing himself into the fridge for a second before immediately bolting out of the kitchen without a word; only a door slam in the distance letting you know where he is.

A couple hours pass, the rain still pattering against the window as the moon rises beyond the clouds.

The ddeokbokki from earlier went unmade; ingredients going back to their original places as you decided to retreat to your own bedroom to catch your breath and cool yourself down. You really hadn’t hated what happened earlier, but it was quite the shock, and you could only imagine what Jihoon was feeling as well. But you set those feelings aside, making your way down the hallway to his bedroom to ask him about dinner. Fuck, he must be starving. He didn’t even eat earlier, you think.

You knock on his door, a muffled “yes?” coming from the other side.

“Jihoon did you want to eat dinner with me or will you eat later?”

“Uhm, hmm, I’m…um, I’ll.. I’ll eat with y-you.”

You set up the dinner table, setting Jihoon’s food across from you. You were glad that he just ate normal human food as it made it easier for you to take care of him; unsure if you could sit and watch him eat what snakes normally did. Hearing a door click, you break out of your thoughts, seeing him walk towards the dining table with a blush on his face.

“I… um…”

“Yes Jihoon?”

“I just… about earlier, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have… um, stuck my hands in y-your shirt like that…”

The memory alone has you blushing, his delicate and cold fingertips brushing against your ribcage had a tingle traveling up your spine and down to your fingertips. You hadn’t hated it; just the shock from his touches had you initially recoiling, sending Jihoon running straight for his bedroom where he had holed up for hours.

“I… It was okay. I, um, didn’t hate it actually…”

“O-oh, uh, so… um, is it okay? If… If I do that sometimes? It’s… you feel nicer than, um, the h-heaters in my room so…”

“Y-yeah, I mean… y-yes, that would be… okay.” Shock momentarily flits over his features before a genuine smile etches onto his face. “Okay… U-um I mean, it---it won’t---I won’t, y’know, stick my hands in your shirt but maybe like---like we can, um, cuddle? Sometimes?” You almost choke on your food at his suggestion, suddenly too shy to make eye contact with him at how innocent it all sounded.

“Yeah that… that would be fine!”

The two of you have normal dinner conversations, you asking him about songs he’s been working on while he asks you about work. You remind him that you’ll pick up a new heater in the morning and begin clearing the table with his help.

When the dishes are cleared, you bid Jihoon a good night; thankful that the snake hybrid wasn’t too awkward after everything that had happened earlier in the day. He calls your name as you turn away from your doorway to face him again.

“Yes, Jihoon?”

“Um, I was wondering… If it’d be okay if I slept in your room? It’s just… Uh, it’s cold and raining and... yeah.”

You contemplate it for a second, wondering if that was really the best idea, all things considered. But you mentally shrug, thinking, it’s just sleep.

“Sure, why not. Why don’t you get ready for bed and just… come in when you’re ready?” He nods, thanking you before he slinks down the hallway to his bedroom to change. The entire thing feels a little questionable, but you shrug it off, getting ready for bed before Jihoon shows up.

Admittedly, you normally would sleep in a big shirt and panties since you slept alone. But since Jihoon would be joining you this time, you slip on a sweater and some pajama pants, opting to be completely covered in order to prevent any potential mishaps. You could only pray your dreams were normal.

There’s a knock on the door when you slide under the bed sheets, adjusting your pillows before you reply.

“Come in!”

Jihoon opens the door, shutting it behind him as he stands in front of it awkwardly. Much like yourself, he stands there in an oversized sweater and pajama pants, hands digging into the material of his sweater as he takes in the features of your bedroom. When his eyes finally land on you already under the sheets, you pat the side of the bed that’s empty, inviting him in.

“C’mon let’s sleep. I still need to go out tomorrow morning to get your things.”

The extra heater is forgotten the next morning when you wake up in his iron grip.

It’s not uncomfortable, but he’s only got one arm wrapped around your waist and you find it almost virtually impossible to escape his hold as he snores softly into your neck. So you lay there, listening to the pitter-patter of the non-stop rain and his soft breaths, thankful that the two of you had fallen asleep without a hitch and that your dreams were normal.

Jihoon had quietly slid into the large bed with you, muttering a ‘good night’ before your radiating warmth under the sheets had lulled him to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes as you lay there, but eventually Jihoon decides to wake up, a yawn and a simple ‘good morning’ muffled into your skin before he pulls away, turning to face the opposite side. You sit up, rubbing your tired eyes as you check the clock. 11:09am.

“Did you want breakfast?”

You never buy the heater; Jihoon happily moving some of his personal items to your bedroom after that late morning breakfast. And you didn’t mind, as long as the snake hybrid was happy, so were you.

He had dragged in a heater, using it on nights when you came to bed late, only for you to shut it off when you finally slid underneath the covers. He would easily find your warmth, rolling over to lock you into his grasp as you fell asleep.

It became routine over the next couple of weeks, even when the clouds cleared and the days and nights were warm. Jihoon opened up to you more as well, dragging his keyboard into the living room to play you some of the songs he’d been working on in his old bedroom, now a work space. You’d often work in your spare room but recently you’d been spending more time in the living room with Jihoon, finding the space more comfortable to be in. Setting your work away, you lay down on the sofa, a yawn on your lips.

“Hey, can I, um, ask you something?”

His voice breaks you out of your train of thought as you adjust your body. Jihoon sits on the floor near the window, fingers tapping random keys on the keyboard as he avoids eye contact.

“Yeah, what’s up?” There’s hesitance written all over his face before he nods to himself, exhaling sharply before he replies.

“I… I know maybe I’m asking for a lot and, I mean, feel free to say no because I know you probably will! And that’s--that’s okay but I was wondering… if--if I…” Jihoon pauses for much too long as you raise a brow.

“If you what? Jihoon, is everything okay?”

“I, yeah, everything’s fine, I just.. I’m sorry, I… It’s okay if you think it’s weird and I’ve never really done it before either but I just, I noticed when… when I touch you, you get really, um, warm and I… I like it a lot so I was wondering if I could try something?”

A million different thoughts float through your head in a millisecond and you can’t stop the blush that creeps up your neck and paints your face red.

“Um, I guess… it would depend? What exactly… did you want to try?” You bite the inside of your cheek, already trying to keep yourself from squirming around.

“I… can I try… eating you out? I wanna see something.”

The formality of Jihoon asking so politely if he could go down on you sends your brain short circuiting quicker than lightning.

He’s convinced at this point you hate him and will probably send him back to the adoption home the next day when he sees the blank look on your face as you process.

“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked that, I---”

“Y-yes…”

“Wait, what, hold--” Jihoon turns into a sputtering mess, his palms clammy against his sweats as he squirms. “Wait, did you say… yes?” You nod, already feeling the heat pooling in your lower abdomen as you shift awkwardly on the sofa. “Yeah I… um, I’d… be okay with that…” Trailing off, you try to look at everything but Jihoon, mildly embarrassed at how increasingly wet you were already getting.

“O-okay, um, when should we… do it?” Jihoon’s voice is shaky and to anyone else he sounded nervous, but inside he could barely contain his new found excitement.

“Now is okay? I… I’m okay with right now.” You finally look at him, finding him already crawling over to you on the floor before moving the coffee table enough to sit on his knees in front of you. “I guess, let’s start…?” He trails off, the blush never leaving his face as he twiddles his thumbs. You nod, sitting up to slide your shorts off, shimmying to the edge of the sofa as you spread your legs for him.

“Interesting.”

“W-what?” You stare at him from between your legs as he slots himself in front of you, cold palms holding your thighs open as you shiver from his touch. “Nothing, just… you’re already wet.”

If there was a sinkhole underneath you, you’d like for it to take you right about now. The embarrassment sets your body on fire as Jihoon chuckles under his breath. “And now you’re really warm? Interesting.” You bite your lip as he leans in closer to your clothed mound, his tongue peeking out from between his lips.

“Ready to test my theory?”

Gulping, he doesn’t even give you a chance to reply before he’s licking you through your panties, his tongue adding pressure along the wet patch growing on the fabric. Your thighs threaten to clamp shut around his head but his grip on you is too tight, prying your legs wide open as he continues to lick at your clothed entrance.

Jihoon pauses for a second, a groan leaving his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good, I need to get these panties off of you now.” Agreeing, you hook your fingers into the band of your panties, ready to get them off.

“Ah, ah, not like that.” There’s a ghost of a smirk on his face before he lets go of your thighs, fingertips pushing your hands away and replacing them with his before he tears them in half, the soaked material sliding off of your body as you stare at him in shock.

“Jihoon, what th---”

“What? Didn’t think I was capable?” You’re at a loss for words; the sudden change in his demeanor from shy to slightly dominating, intoxicating. “I’m just… wow.” He laughs at your lack of response, gripping your thighs again as he leans back in, his tongue already on your slit as he licks up a stripe from your clit to your entrance. Your hands immediately tangle into his hair, moaning as his tongue laps at your wetness.

You feel like you’re floating on clouds, warm and dreamy while Jihoon eats you out. He hadn’t even used his fingers on you yet, only sliding his tongue through your folds and prodding at your entrance and you were sure you could cum just like this.

“Ngh, Jihoon… Can you… make me cum?”

The male between your legs hums in response before his tongue flicks at your clit, a groan leaving you when he draws harsh circles around the nub. You can feel the pressure in your body cresting as you try to grind down on his waiting tongue.

“Jihoon, I’m---”

When you wake up, Jihoon is still by the window, notebook full of music related jargon as he glances up at you. “Oh hey, I was wondering when you’d wake up. You fell asleep so fast after you laid down, I was gonna ask if you wanted to hear some of the stuff I was working on but you were out like a light.”

Your head is void of any thoughts as you stare blankly into Jihoon’s face; the entire thing had been a dream. A cold sweat coats your body as you sit up, the wetness between your legs insanely real.

“I… yeah, I guess I was tired… I--I didn’t say anything weird in my sleep, did I?”

Jihoon ponders for a moment, lips tilting cutely up into a pout.

“No, I mean, you made some weird little squeaky noises but… that was it. Why? Did you have a weird dream or something?”

“Uh… no, just… wondering.”

Fuck.

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios

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dayseternal-blog · 4 years

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Summary: She knit a red scarf for him. She never gave it to him. Days turned into months, months turned into too late.

Naruto starts dating. Hinata decides to move on.

A sickness takes root in the heart.

Inspired by SasuSaku fanfic “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake

Rating: Mature

Read Chapter 1: Smoke on her tongue

Read Chapter 2: He’s not a ghost

Read Chapter 3: Weeds

Read Chapter 4: Leave himself behind

Read Chapter 5: She’s always (still here)

Chapter 6: Much more than friends

The bustling activity of the hospital fades away as soon as they step outside. The silence between them magnifies in the bright sunlight.

She feels anxious, a small excitement fluttering about, as she follows him toward the road. Naruto has always done the unexpected, and with today, she thinks he’s really lived up to that reputation…

She has no idea what’s coming next for them.

It leaves her hopeful, so, so hopeful, that she doesn’t dare speak. Out of fear of disturbing this dream, any wrong word could turn all of it into a terrible joke.

Naruto stops.

She freezes behind him.

He turns around, looks directly at her, and feels his stomach drop straight to his feet. The question he wanted to ask forgotten.

She’s blushing so much, and it’s adorable.

He stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, a reactive heat rising to his own face. The sudden onslaught of nerves makes him feel warm, as if someone just complimented him, and at the same time, he feels incredibly scatterbrained.

He feels like he can do anything or nothing.

Two steps away from remarkable or lost...

“Soo,” he regrettably starts, immediately and unfortunately finding himself weakly at her will, but he manages to continue, “...what are you doing now?”

“Oh, I, I guess I should meet up with my family...at the...cemetery. It should be about that time.” She sounds so soft, even to her own ears, she’s not sure if he could hear her.

But he nods. “Right...right.” Since the moment Hinata entered his room, he pretty much forgot what today was. So much happened just this morning, it’s a surprise that it’s still afternoon.

She peers up at him, trying to gauge his expression...muted, thoughtful. She decides against telling him that she went without him earlier. She knows the reason now why he didn’t show up, and she doesn’t want to make him feel bad about something that wasn’t in his control.

His disease, his explanation for it, it’s all something she still can’t quite wrap her mind around. And she’ll dedicate time to mull over it later, but for now… “Would you like to come with me?”

“With your family?” he asks, a hand swinging up to work the uncertainty from his neck.

“Mhm,” she quietly affirms. “They won’t mind. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He didn’t get a chance to go earlier, and he really does need to pay a visit. Maybe without the flowers, he’s seen enough flowers for awhile...Neji would understand...Neji probably doesn’t actually care about the flowers, right? And if Hinata’s family won’t be bothered by him... “Sure, yeah, thanks.”

She hums a disagreement at his appreciation. He doesn’t owe her that, it should be a matter of course that he would be invited.

He smiles at her.

And with the way his gaze lingers on her as they start walking once more, fluffed cotton fills her legs, her stomach, her head, and she feels she may be nothing more than a cloud in the sky. Any slight breeze from him would send her clear in any direction he pleases.

It’s headying.

It’s frightening.

Though no one gives them much of a passing glance, she wonders, what others must think of them together? How much distance between them is appropriate? How much distance was there before today?...Are they now more than friends?

So whenever thrust into an unexpected, socially nerve-wracking situation, her hands find each other, clasping together tightly.

His fingers interlace behind his neck, cradling his head, walking as if lying back in the grass. It’s always been a tried-and-true way to appear as relaxed as possible, even if he feels far from it. “You…” He frowns at the sky. “...didn’t go this morning, did you?” he finishes quietly.

“Ah...I did.”

She went. Of course she did. It’s Hinata, and she’s always been reliable like that. And he...he didn’t go. His guilt darkens even the blue sky above. “Sorry...I wasn’t there.”

“Oh no. You were in the hospital after all.”

“Yeah but still. Sorry, Hinata.”

She hums another disagreement quietly, trusting that the nearing view of the cemetery will lighten the air between them with shared purpose.

Murmurings from somber crowds carry over the field. Families pray around headstones. Little gifts and flowers decorate every grave across the field.

But despite the numerous people, Naruto sees that no one pays him any mind. It’s a welcome surprise.

And their presence seems to be a welcome surprise, too, for the rest of her family.

Hanabi’s eyes widen. “Oh, Nee-sama, we would have waited for you, but none of us knew where you went!”

“I’m sorry, I was helping Sakura-chan at the hospital. Naruto-kun was there, too, and I invited him with us.”

He takes this as his cue, slightly dipping his head in a bow, awkwardly, to her stoic family.

In the following beat of silence, his eyes draw directly to the only reaction...Hanabi’s expression: brows arched high, a quick glance at her older sister, mouthing a silent ohh. A look that sends self-conscious warmth to his cheeks.

“Thank you for coming today.” Hiashi is as serious as usual, but the words sound genuine.

He nods, for lack of anything else to say. In front of all of her family, some he knows by name, some strangers, all of them in quiet appreciation of the moment, he can’t help feeling a little out of place, like their collective pressure on him just forces him to shut up. Unlike other families, noisier in their prayers and conversation, the Hyuuga are quiet. Silently cleaning and visiting graves of others besides Neji who were lost in the war.

Hinata has always been quiet.

And as he expected, this is the quiet family she’s grown up in.

The people who raised her into the person she is today.

Like Neji.

Hinata mentioned to him in passing the things Neji had done for her. Helping her perfect a move, build stamina, assist her when she strained her eyes. When he asked why she calls Neji “Nii-san,” she explained that he was more of a brother to her than a cousin. She said she understands why it might sound silly to others, since during the chuunin exams, in front of everyone, he so vocally demeaned her. How maybe to others, it might sound silly that even through that difficult part of their relationship, she still saw him as her brother.

He quickly reassured her that “No, it’s not silly. I get it, believe me.” He understood. Perhaps better than anyone else ever could.

She looked at him, eyes, usually so pale, shining warm. She smiled. Her head tilted, her bangs sweeping over, the white skin of her forehead peeking through. “Sasuke-san?”

He smiled, too. “Yeah.” That asshole of a brother.

She nodded, her gaze drifting back to Neji’s grave, her smile muting to something lonely.

He remembers he wanted to hug her, words failing him when he could imagine what such a loss would feel like. He can still remember back on that time when he was afraid that he really did lose Sasuke. He turned his fear into determination to get him back...but Hinata can’t do the same. And in that moment, he wanted to hold her tight.

But he didn’t hug her, didn’t touch her. The very ache in his limbs to feel her weight solidly against his body, to squeeze her and never let go, made him freeze up. He couldn’t gather the courage to do it and he didn’t know why that would be so, when he’s touched her before.

He knows why, now. Aware of the heaviness in his heart, of how her loss felt like his own loss, of why standing next to her now makes him feel obscure, fuzzy, eclipsed by her.

The immediate thought that follows, each time, and he thinks he’ll never get over it, that it could have been her. It could have been her, and he always sensed that that loss would have left him utterly, terribly helpless, a million times worse than losing Neji.

“Thank you” will never be enough.

But he prays it over and over. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Neji.

It’s endless, a prayer never meant to find closure or be restricted by time.

Yet the sun begins to burn low, and Hiashi approaches their quiet vigil. “Naruto. If you are available, please join us for dinner. We would be honored to have you.”

Her father’s kind offer is surprising, and it brings her so much happiness to know that his attitude toward Naruto has changed with the rest of the village. “Yes, Naruto-kun, please join us,” she quietly adds, hoping he can hear her sincerity.

He gapes at their invitation. No one’s parents ever invited him over. None of the adults liked him, maybe except Iruka-sensei, but his old teacher claimed once that he’s not much good at cooking, so they always just ate out.

Hinata watches his hesitation, wondering.

Naruto studies the man’s stoic expression. Does her father really want him for dinner? He’s probably just asking out of courtesy... “That’s really kind of you, Hiashi-san, but I need to head to the Tower before it gets too late.”

She tries not to let her disappointment show. He had been saying since earlier that he wanted to get back to work.

“Sorry, Hinata.”

“Oh, no...” She supposes she was never any good at hiding her feelings from him.

Hiashi nods. “You must be busy. Thank you for joining us today.”

“No, thank you for allowing me to join your family today, Hiashi-san.”

Her family starts heading off down the street, away from the cemetery gates, but she lingers behind.

Everything that Naruto said to her at the hospital was clearly direct, leaving no room for confusion. So why does she feel unfinished?

“Your family is leaving-” he starts.

“I know.” She looks up at him, as if his face will clarify her incomplete thoughts.

He takes in her soft gaze and soaks her attention in. He doesn’t really want to go. He doesn’t want her to walk away, either. “Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun?”

He reaches out uncertainly, his hand folding with hers, his grip light. He held her hand in the hospital. But suddenly, out here, it’s just...different. As if the soft connection is a thin thread, gently tugging at his heart, pulling it toward their entwined fingers.

It’s a familiar warmth. She never got used to holding Susumu’s hand, probably because she was always comparing it to this. Naruto’s warmth almost feels natural against her. She dares to think that it’s meant to be. It’s where she always wanted to be, after all.

“...Let’s meet up again.”

She nods, her gaze leaving their hands to look into his eyes.

Her earnest expression makes his heart squeeze, his grip on her smaller hand tighten. “I don’t know when, though.”

She nods again. That's just how mission schedules are. “Then, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.”

She lets go of him reluctantly, backing away to rejoin her family, when she remembers. “Um, Naruto-kun?”

He perks up. “Yeah?”

“Happy birthday."

He shyly grins. “Thanks.” He’s not exactly sure if “happy” is the most accurate way to describe today, but it’s certainly been an unforgettable one.

She smiles a little more, taking in his warm expression, before reluctantly starting to turn around. She holds his gaze for one last second, then steps away to catch up to her family.

Naruto slowly turns toward the Tower. Some steps forward, though, has him glancing back, catching her looking back at him, too. Warmth rises to his face, as pink visibly tinges her cheeks. He smiles through it, widely, and turns around fully to wave at her.

She reddens even more. She waves a little, too, shyly, before turning around for good, dashing away.

She’s so cute.

And he’s so happy.

Kakashi puts him right to work.

He’s thankful for it. It’s such a relief to stretch out his muscles, to move, to get his chakra circulating and working in a healthy, normal way, to finally feel like his body is his own and not a victim to a force larger than himself.

That force being...death.

Missions remind him that he’s young and...not dying. Work makes him feel like he’s a functioning adult, doing what he’s supposed to do.

He remembers how he felt before. That month of confusion that led to anger, that spiraled into depression. A month of...kind of just...getting worse and worse and worse, and it was so completely unlike him. No energy. No direction. No sense of self-worth. He didn’t recognize himself.

He doesn’t even really know how to reflect on the whole thing.

Thing. He really doesn’t know what else to make of it.

The descent seemed to happen so slowly, and suddenly he was in the thick of his disease before he realized it.

Then as quick as a snap, he was fine.

...That, too, his cure…

He never gets too far in his reflection on everything he’s been through because he always pictures her soft, pink smile when they parted ways at the cemetery. She has the softest smile he’s ever seen, and he can’t wait to see her again, he just, can’t, wait.

He needs to verify her feelings again with his own two eyes and ears. With his hands, too. He’ll hold her hand again and maybe he can hug her. Maybe he can hold her.

He wants to hug her.

The thought always leave a vacancy he can feel against his body, like she should already be there in his arms but isn’t.

On a mission like this, even with a fun teammate like Shikamaru, he finds himself thinking about her in a moment of downtime. Thinking about when they’ll meet again and what it will be like.

It’s real.

His feelings for her are an excitement and distraction quite apart from anything he ever felt for his past girlfriends.

...He pretty much never thought about Rumi while on a mission.

...Rumi…

He tries not to think about her at all. The memory of her makes him feel like a piece of shit.

He really sucked. He couldn’t even be a decent person, he really…

Anyway, he should just focus on his mission.

He’s been really busy, and she knows she needs to be patient.

But she can’t help but wonder if she’s just his next girl. She knows that just a week ago, when he told her that he loves her, she thought that he didn’t need to prove anything to her. She knows that she’s supposed to trust him, after all, Sakura told her so, too.

She knows that she needs to not make any assumptions and just put her faith in him.

But...wasn’t it fast? Between his breakup with Rumi and his confession to her, wasn’t it...just...fast? She’s not sure exactly when he broke up with her, but Sakura would have told her something, probably, or the rumors would have traveled before Naruto would have gotten a chance to tell her. She thinks at the most, maybe a week passed since they broke up?

And, and! Between Kanae and Rumi! A little over one month. She thought that was fast, too…

She thought a lot of things.

She wondered if Rumi, a girl he seemed to hardly know, might be a quick relationship, like Kanae was. But Naruto and Rumi went out all the time. They seemed effortlessly happy together, going out on so many dates. They were seen all over town, eating meals at trendy restaurants, looking...cute...as everyone said.

And Naruto tells her now that dating Rumi was a mistake?

What exactly did he mean by that?

Is it because he was...jealous…...that she was with Susumu? And he got sick because of that? He...got...sick?

She even asked Sakura on a day-off what Naruto’s illness was really all about.

Sakura said almost the same things Naruto had said, just with more technical language.

That should be “proof” enough for her, right?

Somehow, it’s not enough.

...She needs to be patient.

She’s heading out on a mission with Kiba, Akamaru, and Shino when she notices Naruto with Shikamaru, making their way toward the Hokage Tower.

She doesn’t have time to wonder how to react when he completely stops in his tracks, obviously assesses that she’s leaving the village, and then runs right up to her. “Hinata! How long?”

She can sense Kiba’s and Shino’s curiosity. She wonders, too, at how obvious Naruto is making himself. But it’s also incredibly reassuring to know that he was hoping to meet up with her. “It’s just a one-way escort mission, estimated at nearly a week long.”

He nods, frowning, disappointment clutching his gut. “Alright.” He looks up to finally acknowledge her teammates. “Be safe, guys.”

Kiba smirks. “‘Course, man.”

Shino nods his appreciation.

“I’ll see you guys around when you get back.” Naruto’s gaze pauses on her, and she senses that he wants her to do more than just nod in agreement.

She tentatively smiles, hoping that he’ll smile back.

He does, a gentle one that she’s seen before from him on rare occasions.

It’s always made her heart flutter. She bites her lips, then responds, “We’ll be back soon, Naruto-kun.”

“‘Kay.” He takes a step back, knowing that he’s holding her team up from leaving.

She reluctantly turns around, waving goodbye as he waves a bit, too.

Kiba and Shino have the strangest look on their faces, like they’re thinking about a lot of things.

They don’t divulge their thoughts to her, but she knows their worry.

It’s her own concern, too, after all.

Be careful. But I can trust myself, too. And I can trust him...and be careful.

She wants to hurry back home, but as soon as they were ready to leave the Land of Water, a typhoon hit. All ships are docked until the typhoon passes and clears the surrounding waters.

So as rain lashes at the windows, they stay holed up in their accommodations, drinking tea and waiting out the storm.

Shino’s been unusually quiet.

She herself has had her own troubles, but both her teammates seem to already know that it’s regarding a certain old classmate of theirs (nothing new). However with Shino, who so rarely seems to have a problem he doesn’t already know how to deal with, she’s been wondering what could possibly be bothering him. So she asks directly, “What’s on your mind, Shino-kun?”

“Yeah, buddy, what’s on your mind?” Kiba and Akamaru jump onto a bed to listen in.

Shino adjusts his sunglasses. He takes a breath. “I have a decision to make.” He looks at them and sees that they’re listening. “I’m thinking of applying for the education program.”

Kiba’s eyes widen. “To teach at the Academy? That’s awesome!”

“...The application deadline is in two months.”

In two months?... “Good luck, Shino-kun. I know you’ll make a great teacher!”

“You’ll make a fantastic teacher! They’ll call you ‘Shino-sensei!’ like that,” Kiba cheers.

Shino looks between them, a tiny, amused smile on. “But I am hesitant. The reason is it would mean that I would not be able to go on regular missions with both of you anymore.”

Hinata and Kiba exchange looks, knowing that they both had already thought of that.

Kiba moves beside him, swinging an arm around Shino. “Listen, you’ll make the greatest teacher, even better than Iruka-sensei! Of course I’ll miss working with you, but, this is a great opportunity. And Hinata and I would never want to hold you back.”

Hinata is thankful for Kiba’s encouraging tones. It’s putting her in the right mindset, too. “Kiba-kun is right. We would never want to keep you from reaching for your goals. Do your best! We’ll be cheering for you all the way!”

“Thank you. I’ll miss both of you,” Shino says.

She shakes her head. “We’ll never be far away.”

“We’ll come and be guest instructors!” Kiba offers.

“Yes!” Hinata agrees. “We’ll always be your team.”

“Thank you.” His voice is heavy, emotional.

They smile together, and she feels tears coming on, but she doesn’t let them fall. She supposes they all knew this would eventually happen. The possibility of disbandment as they entered adulthood only increases with new responsibilities, new windows of opportunity, and challenges presented.

She just didn’t know it would happen so soon.

Sometimes she feels like it was only yesterday when she was selected for Kurenai’s Team 8. Sometimes it feels like a forever ago when the four of them were tasked with finding Madam Shijimi’s cat.

For the entire way home, they reminisce on their trainings and missions together and make promises to continue meeting up whenever they can.

It’s bittersweet.

To realize, not for the first time, how wonderful her team is. To hold so much excitement for Shino’s next stage in life. To hear Kiba’s plans for the future. To wonder about her own.

Maybe become a jounin sensei?

Maybe eventually work at the Academy, too?

To see that…

So much time has passed. She really has grown.

And she still has so much of life ahead of her. There’s no rush at all.

It’s a stroke of luck to see her coming out of the Hokage Tower. She’s smiling, looking well. She bends over to pet Akamaru.

She straightens and looks toward him, despite the distance.

So she knew that I was-- He bites down on that memory and runs forward to meet them. “You’re finally back!”

“We got held up in the Land of Water due to a typhoon,” Kiba answers.

“Good thing you guys didn’t get caught in it.” He nods at Kiba briefly before turning his attention back to Hinata. “How was the mission?”

She almost wants to shrink away from his obvious, directed attention. It’s almost too strong. But no, she wants this. She really wants this. “It went well. There was one scuffle along the way, but they weren’t a problem for us.”

“Yeah, I bet you beat them up easily.”

She blushes at his confidence in her. It’s almost like from before...It reminds her of those times before he started dating.

Shino clears his throat. “Are you hungry, Naruto? The reason is, we’re going out to get lunch together.”

“Oh yeah?” He was planning on trying to get Hinata alone, but this is almost just as good. “Can I join?”

“No! No, no.” Kiba leans forward, his voice cutting Shino off. “We’re doing Team bonding, and if you come along, you’ll just ignore us and try to hog all of Hinata’s attention!”

Naruto frowns. Yeah, he probably would’ve but… “The three of you were together for the past week! More than a week! Isn’t that enough bonding time?” he protests. “Plus, Shino was about to invite me!” He looks at the quiet guy for affirmation.

But Shino suddenly looks as silent as a rock.

Naruto’s jaw drops in disbelief and betrayal. “Shino!”

“The reason is that Kiba is right.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at Hinata. “Hinata? You’re just going to let these guys treat me like this?”

She’s still absolutely red from Kiba’s sudden and shameless words. It’s the first time he’s verbally acknowledged Naruto’s attentions toward her in almost a year, out of consideration for her feelings. “Oh, I would like to, Naruto-kun, but…” She looks at Shino. “We’re not going to be Team 8, officially, for much longer. Shino-kun is going into education.”

Naruto looks at the usually stoic bug boy. This guy? With kids? A sensei? “What?! No way! Shino?!”

“He’s going to be a wonderful teacher,” Hinata states solidly, not leaving any room for him to not believe her any further.

He nods, getting used to the idea. Certainly unexpected, but has Shino ever been anything other than surprising? “That’s really awesome.” And he means it.

“Thank you, Naruto.” Shino looks like maybe he’s smiling.

And so he takes a step back from them, now completely understanding what’s going on. What wouldn’t he do to have just one more meal with his team, as if time never happened? “Hinata.”

“Yes?”

“Tonight? Dinner?”

She tries not to feel Kiba and Shino’s stares boring into her as she gives a quiet hum of affirmation.

“I’ll see you at your place around 6, then.”

“Okay.” She tries not to look as shy as she feels because Naruto doesn’t seem shy at all. And she needs to do her best to keep up with him.

“Great! Have a good lunch then, guys.” He waves his goodbye and heads off.

And then it strikes her.

She’s having a date with Naruto.

She’s really having an actual date with her longtime love.

He simply asked her out like no big deal, like this was the idea all along, and that the two of them are really, actually--

“So the two of you are a thing?” Kiba bluntly asks.

She turns to look at him, blinking out her disbelief. “I think so.”

Kiba seems to hold back a frown. “What do you mean, you ‘think so’?”

“I mean, he…” Self-consciousness floods her, but Kiba and Shino are both waiting expectantly for her explanation. So she quietly continues, “...said he loves me.”

Kiba and Shino exchange looks, nodding.

“Well, that’s what we’ve thought for a long time,” Kiba states before leading them away from the Tower.

Hinata stares at them, finding their simple acceptance incredible. She really wasn’t the only one who felt there was something between them. But she can’t help needing that affirmation even more. It’s still something she can’t wrap her mind around. “You both thought that?”

“Yes, the reason is that Naruto has always paid more attention to you than any of us.”

She looks away, shyness warming her face. So it wasn’t her imagination? “...but…” Self-doubt rears up, making her feel suddenly slightly nauseous. “He dated others.”

“Oh yeah, Hinata,” Kiba starts, the roll of his eyes practically audible, “You could’ve…” His hands turn up in a shrug. “I dunno...tried to save his life a couple of times. Hold his hand in front of the enemy and the entire Shinobi Alliance. Eat out with him all by yourselves.” He gives her a pointed look. “And he wouldn’t have the faintest idea that any of it was romantic. Hm. I wonder why...maybe because he’s an idiot?”

She stares at him, processing his sarcasm, and Shino lets out the quietest cough of a laugh. She pouts at both of them for making fun of Naruto, but Shino clears his throat, obviously ready to launch into a long explanation.

And she really does want to hear it. Because, if anything, she has always interpreted Kiba’s list to mean that Naruto simply never returned her feelings.

“The reason is Naruto does what feels right, and if the outcome is fine, he will continue to move forward without reflection. Unless you force him to stop by questioning his actions, he will articulate neither his reasoning nor his purpose outside of the obvious goals, and he will not consider or care about how others might perceive him, so long as he was able to manipulate the situation to meet his ends. The reason is--”

“Naruto’s a gigantic idiot,” Kiba interrupts.

“--because Naruto thinks he has nothing to lose,” Shino continues, unfazed. “Therefore he acts accordingly, always behaving as rashly as possible, not realizing that anyone might value him as much as he values others.”

“Or that,” Kiba tags on in agreement.

“The reason for that is,” Shino says with a sense of finality, “not very many people have stopped him to ask for his opinion.”

“What? He’s always airing his opinions.”

Hinata shakes her head at Kiba’s denial. “No, I...I think I understand.”

“Did you ever ask him why he held your hand in the war?”

Her eyes widen at Shino’s question. Of course she hadn’t! How could she ever ask a question like that?!

“Did you ever ask him what he thought of your self-sacrifice?”

“No!” she defends. “That’s embarrassing, I couldn’t have asked something like that! And...and I didn’t do any of that expecting anything from him.”

Even with his dark sunglasses on, she can see Shino’s measured look.

Kiba lets out a big sigh. “Hinata...those exes were pushier than you. And, I don’t mean this in a bad way or anything, but, well, it’s not like, uhh, well, I mean, Naruto’s an idiot, so, anyway, I get what Shino’s saying, y’know, Shino’s right, like, Naruto didn’t know you value him.”

She blinks at him, feeling inexplicably hurt, recognizing that they’re putting some amount, however small, of blame on her. “But...I didn’t know he values...me…”

They pause outside of Yakiniku Q.

“And that’s why we didn’t say anything about this when you were dating Susumu! He’s ‘pushier’ than Naruto! You knew for sure that he at least valued you, it was obvious to you, and we thought it was good for you! Both you and Naruto are the same!” Kiba’s voice had risen enough that other pedestrians glance their way.

But she doesn’t take much notice of them. Their words are putting all of her decisions, all of her choices to back away, to give Naruto space, to listen instead of probe, to watch instead of interrupt, into a different perspective. She did that because she respected his decisions. So are they saying it was wrong of her? “I...didn’t know…”

“Yeah. We know. ‘S not your fault, Hinata, Naruto’s an idiot after all.” Kiba leads them into the restaurant, and the hostess takes them to their table.

When they’re seated, Kiba continues, “And anyway, the two of you are together now, so it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

She tilts her head, wondering if it’s true that it doesn’t “really matter”...

“I’m happy for you, Hinata.” Shino smiles at her.

She gratefully returns his smile.

“Yeah, we’ve all been waiting for this,” Kiba jokes. “Hinata, you have no idea, but this has been a long time coming between the two of you. Good luck with him.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs. Maybe Kiba’s right. Maybe it doesn’t really matter what happened before, who they dated, and what they thought the other was thinking. Because the truth is that...they love each other?

It’s a truth she’ll be able to experience later, and she’s left breathless in anticipation of the unknown. Logically, she shouldn’t feel nervous because she knows him so much better than she ever knew Susumu...but still…

Kiba snaps his fingers in her face. “Hey, focus on us.”

Her expression pulls down in an embarrassed frown. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She shakes her head.

Shino nods. “You’re just happy.”

She ponders that for a second. She was thinking, more nervous or worried, but… She agrees. “I am. But not just because of Naruto-kun. I’m so happy that I have you two as my teammates.”

Hinata knows that they feel the same way as her by their surprised yet pleased smiles. They were and are lucky to have each other. She couldn’t have asked for a better team.

Kiba huffs out a breath. “Before I start crying, let’s order some food.”

“Agreed,” Shino states, unfolding the menu.

She laughs, so, so, so appreciative.

No matter what happens to them in their futures, she’ll always have Team 8.

He restlessly waits outside, arriving much earlier than acceptable.

He’s been waiting for this for almost exactly two weeks. And he’s readier than he’s ever been for a date.

Because he knows exactly what to do to make her happy. He has a lot of money in his wallet. He’ll compliment her when she comes out. He’ll hold the door to let her in first, he’ll pay, and he’ll walk her home. And at the end of it all, maybe he’ll get to hug her, hold her, like he’s been yearning for, but only if she seems open to it.

Only if she wants to.

He won’t rush this.

He’ll make sure she understands how serious he is.

Because despite the break-ups, he’s learned. And he’s not going to mess this up with Hinata. He completely understands what he’s doing with her and what this means for them, and, he’s not just doing this for fun, or because she asked him to, or to have a girl flatter his ego.

He’s doing this because...

He hears quiet footsteps coming from beyond the wall.

The gate pulls open.

And she steps out with a tentative expression that lights up into the shyest, cutest smile he’s only ever seen on her.

He takes a deep breath, grinning, unable to contain his excitement.

“I’m sorry to make you wait.”

“Oh no,” he dismisses. “I got here too early. I hope I didn’t rush you.”

She shakes her head. The truth is, she had gotten ready really early, too. It was a surprise to see him outside when she thought she was just being too impatient.

He feels giddy, like they have so much to do, but he knows now that dates need to be taken at the girl’s pace. That, in general, his ideas aren’t the most reliable, and that he should just let the girl pick. He tries his best to calm all of the adrenaline dancing in his veins. “Anywhere you want to go?”

She blinks at him. “Oh. Um…” She hadn’t thought about it at all. She had assumed that since Naruto asked her to dinner, he had someplace in mind? Like Ichiraku?... “I don’t really know...”

“Anywhere is fine, Hinata!” he encourages. “Don’t worry about me, I’m up for anything.”

She bites her lips, still surprised, not ready to think of a good place for their first date. “Um…”

He watches her smile slip into a look of discomfort. And he realizes just as quickly...he fucking forgot. In his excitement, he forgot to compliment her. Kanae always wanted to see if he noticed her efforts. Is it too late to say something?... He looks her over to see if he needs to comment on her fashion choice. She’s wearing her comfy-looking jacket, appropriate for a chilly night. He remembers what she wore with her old boyfriend...how she looked...different...yet tonight, she looks like she normally does. Jealousy pinches his gut, but he forces that down. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he dressed any differently.

Just in case, he should say something, especially if that’s why she’s being so hesitant. And, anyway, it’s not a lie, either. No matter what she’s wearing, no matter if she’s clean or dirty from a mission, no matter if her hair is up or down, it makes no difference to him. “Hinata, you’re beautiful.”

She pulls out of her worries at the compliment.

His gaze is focused on her so intently.

Warmth seizes her face faster than anything else. How could he say something like that to her so casually without warning? Isn’t that too much? She wasn’t even paying attention! Embarrassment has her shaking her head, shrinking back a step, refusing to look him in the eyes again.

Her reaction isn’t what he expected. Instead of a coy, pleased expression, she looks like she honestly doesn’t believe him! “You are beautiful, Hinata.” Maybe she doesn’t believe him because she didn’t dress up? “You’re always beautiful.”

She gapes at him. Naruto has never lied to her. She has no reason to not believe that he actually feels that way. She squeezes herself together, trying to gather her wits about her. It’s hardly two minutes into their first date, and she’s already falling apart like she can’t handle him. Naruto deserves better from her.

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to really face him. Kiba told her that Naruto never knew how much she values him. And right now seems to be the time to start making amends. She steadies her gaze on his openly warm expression and finds the sparkling blue of his eyes. “Naruto-kun, you’re the one who’s beautiful.”

He squints at her. “What?” he can’t help bluntly asking, a weird grimace cracking open.

“I mean it,” she quietly asserts, trying desperately to keep her blush at bay.

He shakes his head and lets out an awkward laugh. “Don’t joke like that with me, Hinata, that’s not nice...so anyway, is there anywhere you want to go?”

She blinks, jarred by how quickly he dismissed her heartfelt confession. “I...I guess...Ramen Ichiraku would be nice.”

His brows furrow. Why would she want to go there? Is she just saying that because she knows it’s his favorite? Why won’t she tell him where she wants to go?

She doesn’t trust him enough?

She didn’t like that he called her beautiful, and then she turned it into a joke, too… Excitement begins to fade into worry. Why… “Hinata...we eat there all the time, it’s not special to you. You don’t have to choose that for me,” he awkwardly mumbles out.

She tilts her head and frowns, realizing the way she worded her request. “I do want to go to Ramen Ichiraku,” she repeats, simply and clearly. She knows for certain that they’ll both like it.

“Uh, okay,” he relents. And then unwilling to risk making more mistakes, he starts leading them away from the compound.

They walk together, and he tries to find words for conversation, but suddenly, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s already somehow messed up because of course he would mess up. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps his focus on the road.

After a few streets of unusually discomforting silence from him, she can only conclude that he’s bothered. She gathers her confidence together. “Naruto-kun? Do you not want to go to Ichiraku?” Maybe he actually wanted someplace fancier? Maybe his tastes have changed?

He shrugs. “You know I always want to go there,” he admits. “I just don’t want us to be going there if you don’t actually want to go.”

She...she was clear wasn’t she? She stated very clearly that she wants to go, didn’t she? “I want to go, Naruto-kun. I like their ramen a lot-” She recalls his earlier hesitation. “-And I think Ramen Ichiraku is special.” She smiles at him. “It’s your favorite. That makes it a special place to me, too.”

He processes her explanation, the reasoning almost too simple to accept. “So...I’m not, like, forcing you or anything, right?”

She smiles wider, unsure of where he’s getting the silly idea that he might be forcing her. “Of course not. If I didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t have chosen them.”

She’s saying that like it should’ve been obvious to him… It should’ve been. He forgot that Hinata’s always been easily uncomplicated with him.

“We’ve eaten there together before, like you said, Naruto-kun. And we’ve always had a good time there, right?”

He nods, recalling the same memories that she’s referring to. It’s sudden, a soothing balm over his nerves. Those times back then...she enjoyed them, too.

“It’s a good place,” she summarizes happily. “It’s a special place for me.”

Not that he wasn’t certain before, but he’s even more, completely, totally sure.

He really wants this to go well. Not just nicely, either. He wants Hinata to have the perfect date with him.

But he has no idea now how he’s supposed to make that happen. The date didn’t start off the way he thought it would. It’s not going the way he thought it would.

Hinata’s not acting the way he thought she would…

Instead, she’s acting the way she’s always been.

Has it been so long since he hung out with her? That he forgot how easy it is to just be with her...no need for plans or strategies...that whatever he thought, well, Hinata makes it so much better than that? “You’re really amazing,” he sighs out.

She shakes her head, believing him to be exaggerating over nothing. “Everyone knows how much you love their ramen, Naruto-kun.” She peeks up at his gaze, glad to see that he seems slightly more relaxed than earlier.

The storefront comes into view.

“I really did expect that we would be going here tonight,” she continues. “My heart’s been prepared, I was thinking about this all afternoon,” she laughs, breezing over the fact that it wasn’t really Ichiraku, but spending time with Naruto, that was on her mind.

He perks up at her giggle. “My heart never even needs to get prepared, I could walk here in my sleep!”

She nods, knowing full well that he probably already has. “Have you come in the middle of the night before?”

He raises his brows, grinning a What do you think?, and she laughs as they take seats at the counter of the familiar establishment. “Hinata, I’ve come here at every single hour, if not every single minute, on the clock.”

She considers that his obsession sounds a little worrisome, but it’s also just so him. “That’s impressive!”

“Yeah, it is,” he brags, proud of being a round-the-clock customer.

Ayame comes over to them, cheerily smiling. “Naruto, Hinata, welcome!”

“Ayame-neechan, long time no see!”

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it? Now, what shall I get for you two?”

“I’ll get the large miso ramen with extra char siu.”

“I would like the same thing, please.”

His eyes widen, and he turns to stare at her.

“Got it! Please wait for just a moment,” Ayame promises before hurrying off.

Hinata notices his shock, understands that it probably has to do with her order, but she still asks, “Ah, yes?”

He clutches his jacket over his heart, incredibly thankful to be here with her. “You’re really amazing,” he reiterates, not knowing how else to articulate himself.

She hesitantly explains, “I had all afternoon to think about what I’d want.”

He nods, recalling the last time they ate here together, just the two of them. “I almost forgot how much you can eat.”

She blushes, knowing it’s not exactly the most ladylike thing, but to the utmost of effort, they came all this way here, she might as well take the opportunity to eat. “I-I thought it would be better if I just get the large serving this time instead of smaller servings.”

“Yeah, Hinata, I love it,” he bluntly states. Then repeats as realization hits him, “I love it.”

Shyness freezes over her, and she timidly looks up at him. She can remember the last time they came...

He expressed enthusiasm about her order for another serving, saying, “Wow, you’re eating a lot, Hinata!”

And she fumbled out in excuse, “I guess I’m just hungry…” She actually just wanted to extend their time together.

He smiled widely, bright-eyed, excited, and eagerly ordered more for himself, too.

But this time, he carries that serious expression from earlier and leans down, ducking his head to be eye-level with her. “Hinata, I love you.”

She can see vulnerability there, a precious, precious balance of uncertainty and trust. Bare and unaffected. He really means it. Even at such a sudden moment as this, or maybe because it’s in such an inconsequential, unplanned moment, she knows he means it. He really wants her to know it. Emotion wells up, leaving no room for air, she can’t breathe, she can’t speak.

He straightens, starting to wonder at her silence, beginning to notice that he was expecting a response.

What he was expecting...the lack of anything empties him. “So uh Shino wants to become a teacher?”

She blinks at the sudden topic. She can’t let this happen again. Kiba was right. She hesitantly pulls on the sleeve of his jacket and draws herself closer.

Otherwise he won’t be able to hear her over the hammering in her heart.

She averts her eyes, feels the blush spreading over her face, and whispers, “I love you.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and lets an easing breath out.

This somehow felt so much harder than her confession two weeks ago at his bedside, but the accompanying fluttering warmth here is much, much nicer.

She settles back in her seat. Her gaze flicks up to his.

He smiles shyly, his pulse resetting double the pace as color floods his being.

He didn’t quite realize it, he had no idea how wonderful it would feel to hear those words returned to him.

He just carelessly tossed a part of himself out to her, expecting something, not knowing he expected those words, that exact piece of her given in exchange.

And it glows in him.

She can see it, just as much as she can feel the same blossoming within her. She thinks that if only he could see himself, he would see how beautiful he really is. She realizes she can’t let him get away without knowing she was being honest. If she needs to work on letting him know how much she values him, she’s the one who needs to prove herself to him, not the other way around... “Naruto-kun,” she whispers. She can feel herself growing even warmer. “I really do think you’re beautiful.”

Sudden self-consciousness grips him, and he focuses on her.

But she doesn’t let his puzzled expression deter her, not this time. “Your smile is beautiful. Your determination is beautiful.” She looks away, down at the counter, as her bashfulness fights against boldness. “Your laugh, and your bravery, and how you treat everyone...I think everything about you is beautiful.”

She timidly looks up to see his reaction, but he’s looking away now. A hand works obvious discomfort from the back of his neck.

It reminds him of Rumi’s blind admiration. Hinata doesn’t set him up on a pedestal, too, does she? She’s always been kind to him, built him up in ways that others haven’t, but still...

“You are,” she whispers again, wondering now if she was too forward.

Certainly she thinks so...she actually wasn’t joking earlier...but he knows better about himself. He shines a quick smile at her. “Thanks.”

She can tell he’s deflecting. After all the times she’s done that with Susumu, of course she would know. She tries to think of a way to respond when a cry of “Oh, isn’t that Naruto-senpai!” and hushed murmurings behind them catch her attention.

“I haven’t seen him in so long!”

“Should we go over and talk to him?”

“It looks like he’s with someone, though?”

“That’s not Rumi.”

“Didn’t they break up?”

“I think so--”

She shuts them out, second-guessing how “hushed” they’re actually trying to be. They want him to notice, don’t they...

He hears them, and Hinata’s uncertain look doesn’t quell his worries. Bringing up Rumi? Here? Now? The last person he wants Hinata to think about? “Sorry,” he mumbles out.

“Oh, no,” she denies. She should’ve expected this. Like they said, she’s not Rumi…someone who successfully made her status very public in a short amount of time...approved by the general crowd for her cute and bubbly demeanor...

The girls continue talking, his anxiety climbing as their voices get louder with their approach. He makes to stand. “Maybe I should...” deal with them?

Hinata’s eyes dart to him, silently wishing that he wouldn’t pay them any attention.

It strikes him through. “I’m not leaving! Hinata, I just don’t want them to bother us!”

She nods, biting her lips, surprised that he overreacted. “I understand.”

He hesitates, looking closely at her. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Once he catches the renewed faith in her eyes, he smiles, sealing his word. He hurries out past the curtain, to the group of girls’ great excitement, and he recognizes them...

“Good evening, Naruto-senpai~” Ahh, he should know her name.

“Are you busy?” That girl..he’s supposed to know her name, too.

The four gather around him, and he can’t quite establish any personal space. “Yeah, I’m busy right now.” They frown and sigh, then try to invite him out with them anyway.

In the past, he’s given in, having nowhere better to go necessarily. That’s not close to the case now. “I’m sorry, I’m on an important date.” He angles his body back toward Hinata.

They immediately quiet as their eyes dart to the girl, amongst each other, back up to him with much less giddiness in their gazes.

“I see, so sorry to interrupt!” one apologizes, and he thinks that’s pretty nice of her.

“We just wanted to say hi,” another says.

He smiles and nods, tries to steadily back away from them. “Good seeing you guys!” He gives a wave, hopefully finalizing the end of this exchange.

As soon as he sees them nod, hears them mumble out goodbyes and next times?, he blasts an appreciative grin and completely turns around.

Slipping into the seat next to Hinata has the same sense of completing a mission. He did it, and hopefully that didn’t take too long. He studies her...she’s not looking at him.

“I’m sorry...” she murmurs apologetically.

Sorry?

“Maybe you would’ve liked to-”

“No!” he interrupts, catching on almost too late. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all of that, for making you wait.”

She shakes her head firmly. “No, you were really fast, but you could’ve talked to them for longer if you liked.”

It seems he also forgot how stubborn she is. “...I didn’t want to talk to them. I just want to talk to you.”

Her cheeks pinken. She frowns, brows furrowing.

“This, our date, it’s really important to me, okay?”

She turns even redder and nods. “This is important to me, too.”

He smiles, satisfied. “So tell me about Shino! He really wants to be a teacher? What made him start thinking about that?”

She sees how much he’s trying to reassure her, and how easily he does it, too, never holding back, even in a moment like this. He leaves no room for her to doubt herself.

So she’ll stop thinking about other girls. She’ll focus only on him. “Have you seen Shino-kun with Mirai-chan?”

“Your sensei’s baby? Mmm...no, I don’t think so...”

“He’s really, really good with her, and he’s found that he likes kids a lot. Shino-kun's always been very empathetic, very understanding, so I think he relates to them easily.” She goes on to tell him about Shino’s expectations for the education course, and Naruto tells her about the times he’s visited Iruka’s class to assist or demonstrate. The kids he’s met and their terrible antics.

The conversation is easy, interesting, and Hinata marvels at how none of it feels forced.

She doesn’t have to count his good points.

She doesn’t have to add up everything she admires about him.

It’s so easy to talk with him, it’s so, so cute to see him joyfully eat his ramen, and it’s just so incredible to smile at him and receive his smiles in return.

His soft gaze is indescribably warm. Happy. The way she’s looked at him for so long…

To feel that from him, directed at her, it’s almost too much…

But she wants this. She wants all of it. To feel so free to look at him. To let her affection for him show in her gaze. To not have to put a cap on her love, bottle it up inside and hope none of it spills.

“Be careful,” she had told herself. But how? How can she possibly be careful? How can she possibly withhold all the love she’s been hurting to give him for so long?

She doesn’t want the night to end.

But eventually, they’re walking side-by-side back to her place, slowly, slowly, until there’s no more distance left to keep.

She faces him and smiles with as much appreciation as she can show. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He has no idea how the night ended so quickly when all they did was eat. Usually at this time, rather than only just finishing dinner, he’d be seeing Rumi off after all of the fooling around at his place-- Simply spending time with Hinata is even better than any of that perverted stuff. “Did you have fun tonight?”

She nods and hums her affirmation. “I did. Thank you for everything.”

His hands ache in his jacket pockets to hold her, but he’s going to be considerate even if it kills him.

“Did you have fun, Naruto-kun?”

He nods. “Yeah, I can’t believe how fast the time passed. It already got so late.”

“Mhm.” The fluttering feeling she’s felt all night continues unrelenting. “I didn’t notice how late it got, either.” Only now does the dark silence of the late night seem to close around them. Only the chilling wind creates a stir, but she failed to notice that, too.

He studies her cute, shy smile, can hardly believe that she enjoyed herself as much as he did. “Can we meet up again soon?”

“I’d really like that.”

“I don’t have a mission tomorrow.”

“Me, neither.”

“Then, tomorrow? I can come by around 11?”

“Okay.”

They both realize that the night is over. The only thing she has left to do is turn around and head inside.

But she wonders if that’s not good enough.

She knows this was never good enough for Susumu. And is this good enough, perfect enough, for herself?

She casts her eyes down, unwilling to let him see the wavering of her nerves.

She takes two steps, closing the space between them, and mercifully, he doesn’t back away. Carefully, she leans into him a bit, his body warmth flushing her entire system hot.

He only just gets his hands out of his pockets to touch when she backs up, his hands left mid-air.

She’s staring at him with the funniest, shyest expression he’s ever seen. “Good night, Naruto-kun. Thank you for tonight.”

But he’s still trying to process the one-second hug. “That’s not fair,” he accuses before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

“Hm?”

“You-” He bites his lip, remembering that he wasn’t supposed to rush her. But what’s he supposed to do with this? How could she do something so cute and innocent?

...How innocent is she?

And with that wondering burning a small pit of jealousy in his gut, he turns his hands, showing her how she left him hanging. “...Will you let me?”

She fidgets but nods, not making eye contact. She takes one step forward, and that warmth surrounds her, his hands at her back, gentle. She thinks she’s never felt anything nicer, warmer, so intimate.

To be so close to the one she loves, it’s different.

To touch the person she’s longed to touch, it’s unreal, a waking dream. The slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathes--isn’t that alarmingly amazing? She’s too happy. This is what she’s wanted for so long, what she didn’t want to share with anyone else. How could she have dared to force herself to touch another man?... Well, she didn’t know this would ever happen. “Naruto-kun…”

“Hinata?”

“I love you.”

He squeezes her a little closer, the intimacy of her words and body turning his face hot. Three times now, "I love you", and each time feels sweeter than the last. “I love you, too, really.”

“Mm.” It’s impossible for her to distrust his word. She tightens her grip, savoring him for one more second, breathing in his warmth, before letting go and stepping back.

She can barely look at him for how happy she is, but he’s smiling with a softness that’s as smushed up as her feelings.

He’s so beautiful.

“Good night, Naruto-kun,” she manages to breathe out.

“Good night, Hinata.” He watches her step away, give him a final, gorgeous smile, and then disappear behind the gate.

And suddenly, he’s left alone with only his heartbeat thudding out the slipping memory of her form.

It was too perfect.

He somehow messed up at the beginning, and then those girls interrupted the start of their dinner, but everything after, everything, just being with her, and then holding her, it was all perfect.

She was perfect.

When he was with Rumi, every moment was new and strange, and so he thought that’s how it must be.

Yet with Hinata? Familiar. Warm. Easy.

So comforting.

The whole night was dazzlingly wonderful. He could sprint the rest of the way home with how great he feels, give outlet to the elation jumping beneath his skin, and exclaim his delight to the stars in rushing breaths.

But he walks, choosing instead to wallow in his happiness and count his blessings quietly. The last thing he wants to do is tempt fate to twist up his fortunes and slide him backwards like he so rightly deserves.

One wrong move, and the universe might find him unworthy of its favor.

So he makes sure to arrive on-time again the next day.

When she steps out to meet him, she looks completely different, something about her demeanor, something about her smile. It’s not the clothing or her hair. Something softer? She’s not quite the daring warrior who stood at his side in the war, who protected him in battle, who’s sealed his tenketsu in spars or had dirt streaking her arms and legs after a mission. She’s not guarded at all.

She’s just...

This Hinata is somehow...

Still, warm familiarity flutters and warms him all over. It’s still Hinata, but this Hinata is only for him. He just wants to protect this. Rather than selfish, this feeling is purer than a kiss from the sun on a breezy day.

He used to feel a kind of self-gratification, a proud slickness that settled in his gut, when he walked around with Rumi. Each date felt like an accomplishment, each step closer to her an affirmation of his growth.

The comparison is a sickening damper on his mood, and he doesn’t dwell on his ex as they head onto the shopping arcade. “Have you tried that new game center people have been talking about?” he asks.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t mention that she assumed it was entertainment for kids, but they are not too old, yet, right? She can see some young teenagers crowding around machines inside the center. “Have you?”

“No…”

“It looks fun,” she observes aloud, noting machines filled with plush toys, screens with small dancing visuals, and the obvious tension stringing groups of friends to stay glued to their games.

He grins. “Shall we go in?”

And she nods, pleased that she read his hidden curiosity correctly.

They investigate one of the machines that advertises its mission simulation in neon lettering. A pixelated little man jumps around the screen, dodging what they imagine must be flying kunai and leaping across trees. Naruto tentatively hits a round button and the screen changes, names of people scrolling upwards. He taps a different round button and the screen shifts to instructions.

“How do we play this thing?” He jabs at a few more buttons randomly, and the words Insert Coins flash at the top.

“Um…” Hinata looks down at the rest of the machine. “Over there.”

They peer at the slot.

“Okay…” Naruto opens his wallet and slips coins in until the machine makes a startling amount of music. He stands up straight, suddenly realizing he has no idea how the game works. He hits a button, and the man jumps.

“Maybe these buttons make you move forward,” Hinata guesses.

He presses it and the man starts running.

“Oh, jump!” Hinata exclaims as a gap in the trees appears.

He hits the button to jump, and the man leaps up…

And falls in the hole.

Game Over flashes obnoxiously red on the screen.

They stare at it for a second, dumbfounded.

“What?!” Naruto argues. “Why did he jump in the hole?! Let’s try again.”

“Yes, try again,” Hinata encourages.

On a second try, he gets the timing of the trees, but only makes it to the flying kunai. “Whaaat!” he groans. He fishes out more coins and feeds them into the machine. “You wanna try this? Maybe you’ll be better than me,” he laughs.

“I think I know what to do.” She takes over and manages to get past the obstacles.

Naruto cheers her on throughout her play, then goes silent when she comes up against another little figure. He watches her throw shuriken at it, and eventually, the figure disappears. In its place poofs out a scroll, which her character seems to collect.

The game alerts them that she made it to level 2, where she promptly gets knocked out by a swinging log.

“Ah.” She watches the screen mock her in giant lettering and hears the intense music fizzle out. “Oh well,” she sighs.

“You made it to the next level!” he congratulates her. “Do you want to try again?”

She considers it for a second. She gets the feeling that she could be really good at this game if she kept playing, but then Naruto might get bored. “Maybe let’s look at the other games?”

“Hmmm.” He scans around the room and sees one that two people seem to be playing. “Maybe we can try something like that?”

“Oh, we can play together!” she happily observes.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

They settle on one that’s much simpler and less realistic, playing as two mice trying to collect as many blocks of cheese as possible without getting eaten by cats in a maze-like setting. It’s surprisingly harrowing, living the life of mice, and they both cry out in horror, then laugh, when a cat finally corners them.

He watches the smile bunching her cheeks and honestly feels relieved to see that she’s enjoying herself as they try out the different games. The new game center was a spur of the moment idea, and he didn’t actually think she would be interested. He’s pretty certain that Kanae and Rumi would not have been too keen on playing games that seem to be marketed for children.

When they finally decide to stop and get lunch at Ichiraku, they discuss the new experience, marveling at the technology.

“It’s like a television, but you can interact with it!” Hinata considers aloud. “I wonder how they did that?”

Naruto nods with equal fascination. “They had all kinds of games, too. Technology’s really changed in the past couple of years, hasn’t it, like people can have their own video recorders now. Makes you wonder what they’ll come up with next, you know.”

She blinks in surprise. Because actually, she hadn’t wondered about what will happen next. “Hmm…”

“Like that video game we played with the ninja character. Maybe they’ll make technology for shinobi.”

She tries to imagine what they could possibly need, but comes up empty. “...Like what?”

He shrugs. “Maybe different tools or medic-related things? I have no idea,” he laughs.

“Hmm… Technology that could make our work safer somehow would be nice.”

“Yeah. Or make communication faster when we’re on the job. There’s a lot of things we can do to ensure more safety for shinobi. Technology might be the key to that.”

She hums in thoughtful agreement. “You’ll be a great Hokage, Naruto-kun.”

He draws out of his musings and looks at her. His lifelong dream is more believable to the general public than it ever was before, but it’s still surprising to hear that kind of simple confidence in him.

She just took a mouthful of ramen, so she can’t do much to address his look. She tries to give him a closed-lipped smile and swallow as quickly as she can. “You’re always thinking about the future for us.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, inexplicably shy when usually he'd be peacocking at the recognition. Dazed, he slurps up more of his ramen to fill the silence.

She watches him eat through his blush, and she’s glad that at least this time, he’s taking her compliment without argument or deflection.

She sees that slowly but surely, they’ll grow more comfortable in each other’s presence. She looks forward to the day when he’ll acknowledge all that she sees in him. When that day will be exactly, she doesn’t know. Around 10 years worth of admiration and love would be a lot for anyone to take on, but she’ll do her best to convey all of it to him. In words and action.

So she lets herself enjoy his careful hug at the end of their date. It’s still daytime, and anyone could see them, but it’s still just as amazing as the night before. “Today was fun, Naruto-kun. Thank you.” She readies her heart for the separation, committing his warmth to memory, and steps back.

“Thank you, Hinata. I had a lot of fun, too.” He already misses her. He can’t wait for the next time, but… “I’ll see you when I come back from my border patrol.”

She nods. “Be safe.”

His heart grows heavy, the knowledge of a perfect date coming to an end disappointing. “You, too, if you get called for a mission in the meantime.”

“Of course.” She smiles to make her promise with confidence, and she can see his promise to return safely in his eyes, too.

In any downtime, he finds himself musing on Hinata. He’s eager to see her smile, hear her laugh, and hold her again. And supposedly she’s returning from a mission today after another week apart.

So he weaves through the busy throngs of people as he heads to the Hokage’s Office. He’ll be helping with some administration duties, and if he’s lucky, he’ll get to see her while he’s there.

He enters the spacious lobby, and instead, his hopeful look around lands on a small brunette.

Rumi with her team.

He hasn’t seen her since that awful night. Eyes averted, he walks past them with as normal a rushed gait as possible to the stairs.

“Naruto.”

And he stops, her voice, once so intimate to him, freezing him in anxious guilt. He turns back to see her.

Her gaze is steely, slightly pinched with a look akin to anger, but he’s not sure. Distrust? Hatred? Any of those is what he deserves.

But he doesn’t have any idea as to why she would call out to him. “Rumi,” he murmurs.

And she grimaces. She strides forward, leaving her teammates sides, who are both in unfriendly stances toward him. She takes an obvious breath as she looks up. Her brows furrow, and he realizes, he’s the enemy. “I want to hear it from you.”

He waits for clarification.

She takes another breath. “You’re dating...Hinata-san.”

He watches how she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t look at all broken like that night. She’s hard, defenses up, prepared for his blow. It’s relieving, while simultaneously condemning him even more on his folly. He misjudged her strength. “...Yeah,” he quietly affirms.

He hears the doors open, and he looks up.

It’s Team 8.

He sees Hinata’s bewilderment at the situation, how her eyes widen, her pace slows.

“You’re the worst.” Rumi’s voice, scathing.

He looks back to her, alarmed by such an unfamiliar tone from her.

Her eyes squint with obvious scorn. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you. I really-” She takes a step back. “You disgust me,” she gasps out. She turns around, rejoins her team, and walks out without hesitation.

He stands there stunned. He can’t bring himself to acknowledge Team 8’s uneasy presence, he can’t look at Hinata.

“We’ll go turn in our report,” Kiba murmurs.

Kiba and Shino leave.

He wishes she didn’t see that. Then he could at least try to pretend this never happened, suppress this memory like everything else he does when it comes to Rumi. He just wants to do better, be better. Move on. He doesn’t want Hinata to see what a disaster he’s been in the past.

She draws closer, though unsure of what to say. She can make a good guess as to why Rumi said those things to him. From what little Naruto told her at the hospital and what Sakura told her after, it seems like he broke up with Rumi so that he could be with her. If she didn't know that, then of course Rumi would be hurt to find out… “Naruto-kun?” she whispers.

He finally glances at her, surprised to see only concern in her eyes. “Sorry…” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, he just feels like he should.

“No…” She tries to dig for words to set him at ease. It’s obvious his break-up was bad, much messier than her own. And as far as she knows, he broke up with Rumi only about a month ago, or even less, for about the time that they’ve been together. Was their relationship just too soon? What can she say?

“...I’ll talk to you later, Hinata…”

“Oh, okay.” She watches him run up the steps and disappear. Is it her place to follow? Or is this where she needs to give him space?

She decides to do what she must do. First, she goes to report in with the Hokage and help her team. Then after she’ll go looking for him, at least to tell him that she’s available.

He hurries to the Analytics Office to log data with Shikamaru. He can bury himself in work, be productive at the same time, and hide from humiliation.

He was such a fool to date Rumi. If he had never dated her, he would have never made such stupid mistakes, hurt her, wasted her time, wasted his own time, made Hinata wait, made Hinata date that guy, made himself sick and jealous. If he had just figured out Hinata’s feelings sooner, or if he had figured out his own feelings sooner.

If he had been smarter or more mature.

If he hadn’t been so foolish...

She hovers in the doorway, hesitant to bother him, when he seems to be ignoring her. But she finally steps in, making her presence obvious.

He looks up, surprised. “Hinata...Sorry, I can talk to you later…I need to help Shikamaru with all of this.”

She nods, wondering if she should have given him more space. He already promised to talk to her later after all, and so maybe she didn’t need to go looking for him.

“How annoying,” Shikamaru groans, looking up from his journal. “I don’t need help.” He looks pointedly at Naruto. “No need to put on a professional front, you missed her, right? You can thank me later.”

Naruto gapes at his friend. His excuse from confronting his stupid life taken away, just like that. “There’s still a lot left.”

“Just go.”

“But I’ve only helped for less than a hour.”

“You can just come back after.”

“I-it’s okay, Shikamaru-san.” Each of Naruto’s protests tears at her a little. If he needs more time away from her, then she should give that to him. She didn’t realize that she’s been getting spoiled by the last two dates. “I didn’t mean to bother, I just wanted to tell Naruto-kun that I’m free this afternoon.”

He can feel the emotional distance he’s putting between them, but it just feels like the right thing to do for now. His mind is so scattered with regret. He wishes he never dated Rumi. He wishes he never got so full of himself. He wishes he wasn’t so stupid, so disgusting, the worst. “...Sorry, Hinata, I don’t want to leave Shikamaru with all of this.”

“I understand.” She smiles to show that she really does. “Both of you are working really hard. I’ll be checking in at home, then, okay?”

Her smile cuts him. He’s obviously not doing the right thing, but what is the right thing in this case? “Alright, I’ll see you later, Hinata.” He watches her turn away, disappear from view. But for now, just for now, he can’t talk to her. She said she understands, right? Can she tell that he doesn’t know what to do or say?

“What a drag. If you’re going to look so forlorn, then why the hell are you staying here?”

His gaze darts to his friend. “I’m not ‘forlorn’!”

Shikamaru presses his hand to his forehead, like he might have a headache. “I don’t want to ask. I’m asking anyway. What happened? You missed her all week, didn’t you?”

“...Yeah.” He frowns at the desk, not wanting to talk about this at all.

“...And?!”

“...And I saw Rumi downstairs.”

“...So?”

“Hinata saw us.”

“........So?! Isn’t that more reason to make sure that Hinata didn’t get the wrong idea?”

Naruto sits up, confused.

“Or are you thinking of breaking up already and going back to Rumi. Is that what happened?”

“No!” He stands, indignant at the suggestion. “Of course not!”

“Then why didn’t you want to talk to Hinata? She just came back from her mission.”

All of the fight drains out of him. “...I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s not like you,” Shikamaru intones. “Out of all of the times to choose to think first and act later, you’re choosing now to hesitate?”

“What do you mean? I just don’t know how to act! Rumi said some stuff in front of everyone, and it was really bad, embarrassing. I’m not hesitating!”

“What did Rumi- No, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to say or act anything special, Naruto. You should at least just greet Hinata properly.”

“...You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Get out of here already,” he sighs.

“Yeah. Sorry, Shikamaru.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says carelessly and waves him off.

He runs out of the building, and it doesn’t take long at all to catch up. “Hinata!”

She turns at his voice, surprised, but glad. “Naruto-kun!”

He walks in pace with her, energy falling just as quickly. “I’m sorry.”

She frowns. “No? There’s nothing to apologize for. I-I’m sorry for bothering you, I didn’t mean to be impatient.”

“No, I’m sorry for...earlier, and just now...”

The sight of Naruto and Rumi’s confrontation bothered her, but she doesn’t think she should push him about it. She’s not sure it’s her place to ask what happened. But she does want to know if… “Are you okay?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.” He still feels shitty about all of it, but it’s not like Rumi said anything untruthful. He already knows he’s the worst. And at least there’s some reprieve in knowing that...that he disgusts her…

She tries to assess his serious expression. Should she ask? Should she give him space? Do people talk about their exes with their new partner? In the past, he just talked about Kanae without any curiosity on her part, so she’s never had to ask before. “...Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

She nods silently.

“Ah!!” he shouts in realization. “I didn’t go up to her myself or anything like that, Hinata! She asked me if I was dating you, and I said yes, and then..yeah.”

She stares for a second, surprised by his sudden outburst, but she nods even harder. “I...I kind of thought so.”

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He realizes that Hinata could have interpreted everything differently. Like Shikamaru said, she could have suspected he approached Rumi first. But she didn’t. She trusted him. Out of her forgiveness, he somehow didn’t ruin the faith she’s putting into their new relationship. He can't take her patience for granted. He needs to try harder. He needs to do better for Hinata.

He stops in his tracks.

Noticing that he’s not keeping up, she turns around. “Naruto-kun?”

“You know that I’d never cheat on you, right?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to her at all.

“You know that my...previous relationships...don’t compare to this, how I feel for you?”

She feels a blush rise. “...Naruto-kun...you said something similar before…” Of course she didn’t forget!

“I’m sorry I dated them, I wish I never dated them. I wish I realized my feelings for you earlier, and I wish I only had had you this whole time.” The regrets that clamored about his mind rush out, and in his vulnerability, he watches, afraid that he’s only reminding her of his mistakes. Where does she draw the line in her patience? In her forgiveness?

“N-Naruto-kun,” she stutters out, flustered, “I didn’t think you were cheating on me.” It’s true that at the start of their relationship, she told herself to be careful, but he’s since given her the same concentrated attention that he would to a mission. She hasn’t once felt like his affection is a lie.

“Hinata…”

She nods. She swallows down the butterflies. “I get to be with you now, and I’m very happy. I’ve never been happier. So, don’t worry about me.”

Her warm smile sets him at ease. How fortunate is he to have someone like Hinata willing to deal with him? And on top of that, be happy about it? “I hope I can keep you happy. I’ll make sure you’re happy all the time.”

Her expression scrunches up. She doesn’t know whether to smile or reprimand him for such silly yet earnest promises. She can’t handle it. She shakes her head, and looks down. “Naruto-kun, that’s too much.”

Too much? “No, it’s not. It’s my job as your boyfriend.” If she’s not happy with him all the time, then she’ll leave. It’s the very least of his duties!

She meets his gaze again, slightly perplexed. “This isn’t your job, please don’t think of this as your job. When it’s us, it’s just us. Of course, I want to make you happy, too, Naruto-kun, but happiness is something we do together, right? We’re a team?”

“A team…”

“If we have bad days, or if we ever disagree on something, we work through it together, and we come out happier together.”

“Bad days? I’ll never let you have a bad day, Hinata!”

“W-what!” she laughs.

“I’ll protect you from everything bad, and we’ll never fight or argue or anything like that!”

“Naruto-kun!” she protests.

He knows it sounds silly, but he means it. “I never want to make you sad or mad.” ...It strikes him that he’s made this promise before, truly believing he would hold his end up. And he didn't, his words far lighter and more easily broken than he could have ever realized of himself. Now, a heavy shame he doesn't even know how to hold.

“I never want to make you sad or mad, either." She wonders at his sudden downcast expression, if he's still thinking about Rumi, and if he always puts so much pressure on himself for his relationships. She doesn't want to be another weight on his shoulders. She just wants to see his smile. "If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” She gazes up at him, hoping he sees that she needs nothing else.

Before her, his past guilt is forced back so easily. Everything with Hinata is so easy. He would have never known. He hurt Rumi for a reason, he broke that promise because they both have better things to move on to. Each moment with Hinata affirms his decision. No matter how selfish it was, if Hinata's happy, then it was worth it. She makes everything worth it. “I’m happy if you’re happy, too.”

Pink fills her cheeks as her smile brightens.

“Thank you for being my teammate, Hinata.”

She can’t help fidgeting from his sweetness. “Thank you for being my teammate, Naruto-kun.”

He lets her returned affection settle in, calm the vestiges of his anxiety. He’s constantly afraid that he’s going to mess up, but Hinata makes it seem as if he’s been doing fine this whole time.

It makes him hopeful that they will last. Past one month, today, tomorrow, next month, next year. This is only the start, but he’s already made so many promises to make up for everything he's lacking.

At the very least, he needs to prove his word is worth her faith.

That he has love, the real thing, behind each of his pitiful apologies.

He wants to start giving, not always receiving. Even if she says she's already happy, he knows he can do so much more. But how?

#white lilies #naruhina fanfic #naruhina angst #romance #canon divergent au #hanahaki #no the last #naruhina fanfiction #finally #only one more chapter of this fic and i'm done #thank you for reading!!

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