#wish i had her as my sib | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ja3yun · 4 months

Text

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header

‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.

With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.

You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.

While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.

You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything.

Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.

“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.

Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”

Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.

Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did.

It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.

You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.

But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.

Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.

"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.

Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever.

There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.

You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.

“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”

She was proud of you that day.

As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.”

Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.

“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.

_____

The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.

Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.

“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”

As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.

“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”

“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off.

“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”

The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?”

Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.

“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”

“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.

Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.”

“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.

There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.

“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”

Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move.

A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.

“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?”

Park Sunghoon.

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…

It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him.

“This is MY rink, Park.”

Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.

When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.

It was always like this.

Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.

He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present.

Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.

To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together.

“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”

“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.

Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”

Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”

“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”

If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.

“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.”

The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”

Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.

Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.

Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs.

Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”

“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.

Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.

“It’s a fucking promise, Park.”

No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line.

With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.

While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.

Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.

“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”

“A dick?”

“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”

Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.”

Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.

______

Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.

Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees.

Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.

That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be.

The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.

Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.

Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.

“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her.

With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.

“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.

As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.”

You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this.

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?”

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens.

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.”

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?”

He’s flabbergasted.

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you? You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.” It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates.

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

________

Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.

Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.

Dear Y/N Kang,

At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.

In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.

Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.

You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.

Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.

You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."

"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."

"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.

Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.

Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.

“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”

You had no choice but to understand.

“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."

There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.

In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.

How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all.

A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.

The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.

As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.

Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?

A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.

Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.

With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face.

Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.

He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.

Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.

What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.

Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”

His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.

“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.

“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.

Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”

“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.

Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?

Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”

“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”

“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.

“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.

“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”

Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.

The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins.

What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.

Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.

Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide.

“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.

The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.

“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.

“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.

Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!”

Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.

“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.

Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”

Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”

As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.

“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.

“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.”

It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.

“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.

“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.”

The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.

You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”

Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.

You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon.

If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.

Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.

Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.

“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?

“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”

He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.

Cute.

“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.

He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”

Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”

Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.

“So what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.

While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.

The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?”

Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty.

Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.

“Gonna need you to pump for me.”

It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.

He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”

Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy?

You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?”

His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.”

Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.

The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind.

“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.

Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.”

It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.

“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.

The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.

Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.

“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.

“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.

Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.

Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.

This has to be your decision. Something you want.

If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?

Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”

Oh.

All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.

Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.

Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.

“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.

He should have just kissed you.

The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes.

“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.

You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.

And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory.

As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.

The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.

Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.

“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.”

It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.”

With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.

The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.

Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.

The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”

Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy.

Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"

Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."

You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.

A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”

While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.

“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.

“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins.

What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.

Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.

Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.

Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.

"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"

Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."

You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.

“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?”

“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?”

Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.”

He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.

“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”

Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.

When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.

In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.

“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.

His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.

You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”

“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.

The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.”

My. She could have said ‘The’.

It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you.

“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis.

What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise.

“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.

“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.

It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.

“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”

Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”

Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him.

He understands the situation earlier a little better now.

“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?”

Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”

“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?”

“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”

“What was the good news?”

“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”

Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?”

“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.

“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”

You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over.

Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you.

One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.

Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.

“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.

“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”

“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.

“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“An avoider?”

Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.”

Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.

“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself, “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.”

“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.”

You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”

“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”

“Anything at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.

Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?”

Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”

“I was thinking about Minhee.”

Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.

Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”

The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”

“Yes.”

Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.

Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”

Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.

Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.

“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line.

It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.

Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.

“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.

Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen.

You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.”

Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever.

“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.

Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression.

“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.

“Hey, Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.

The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.

He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.

Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.

At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.

Except, perhaps, one person.

Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.

However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."

No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.

Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”

You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.

“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.

“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.

Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.

Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.

“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.

“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.

"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.

Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”

“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.

He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”

“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.

Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”

It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.

Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.

You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones.

“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest.

You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.”

Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.

“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.

Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.

Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.

Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”

“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.

It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this.

“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.

He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?”

Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.

Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?

Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.

Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."

"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.

"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time." Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.

“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.

With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?

“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.

“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.

Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was.

A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.

“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.

“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”

He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.

“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”

Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly.

Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.

“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”

That prick…Park Sunghoon.

You couldn’t have it all.

taglist: @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @ariadores @chwesuh-imnida

#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha fluff #sunghoon x reader

1K notes · View notes

chimivx · 6 months

Text

no matter what i do ↠ txt

now playing: 0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) • TXT

Two years after an end-all argument with Taehyun, you’re forced to spend Christmas weekend together at your mother’s, and his father’s. Once upon a time he meant the world to you. Now that you’re both married with kids, things are getting messy, and a little blurry. The longer you stick around in the home you both grew up in, the more secrets come out… It’s always been messy, it was always blurry. All you want, all you truly yearn for, is to get back on good terms with Taehyun.

word count↠ 33,944

warnings↠ MDNI. 18+. no graphic depictions of sex but it is heavily implied, drug use, teenage drug use, alcohol abuse, angst amongst taehyun and reader, insinuation that someone will s/a reader (briefly, not described), teenage pregnancy (age nineteen), step-cest before they are officially step siblings (growing up together in same house, not step-sibs until they are full adults), infidelity, not so fabulous parents, neglectful mother, biting at some point if you squint, crying, lots of crying, many many sex insinuations (not graphic)… if i missed anything PLEASE tell me.

a/n↠ i put my BACK into this one, i feel pretty proud of this. this may be extremely taboo to some people. this topic is frowned upon by most. if you don’t like it, simply scroll by, thank you. the idea sparked in my head, and i couldn’t let it go. to those of you intrigued, to those of you who end up reading- thank you. 🫶

posted↠ 12/20/23 ~ 12 a.m. est

White crystal snowflakes whirled through the brisk air, the wind nipping at your cheeks as you struggled with the car seat buckle for the third time this week. The toddler you were strapping in had her hand stretched out of the van door, trying to catch a snowflake filled with wonder as to why she couldn’t hold one in her warm mittens.

“No-flake, Mama,” she mumbled to you. “No-flake!”

“The snowflakes are so pretty, just like you, Mina,” you smiled at her, adjusting the straps over her shoulders, hoping to ease your struggle.

Behind you, the front door to your two story home flung open and slammed shut, the scuffle of snow boots plowing down the porch stairs followed. Equally shrill, loud mouthed shouts filled the quiet winter air.

“Boys, don’t jump in the-“

Glancing over your shoulder, it was too late. Your twin boys, Chan and Sunoo, were knee deep in the snowdrifts on top of the gardens that lined along the porch. Dark hair and matching brown eyes grinned maniacally at you.

“You both need to get in the car, we’re gonna be late!”

Mina shoved a mitten in her mouth, biting down on the fabric with her tiny teeth ripping it off of her hand. While you watched Sunoo and Chan trudge through the snow, each one trying to shove the other to the ground as they raced to the van, your two year old threw her mitten to the ground. And then the other one, with a shriek.

“I’m right here,” you soothed, turning back to your daughter with a sigh. “Meens, it’s cold baby,” you crouched to pick the little pink mittens up off the ground, “you have to wear these.”

“No wear,” she frowned, her eyebrows sinking over the eyes she shared with her father. She puffed out her pouty cheeks, becoming the carbon copy of him. Out of all of your kids, Mina looked the most like him.

“Yes, wear,” you said, reaching for one of her hands that both shot up into the air in an instant. Her bottom lip crinkled, and you withheld the groan you ever so wished to release from the depths of your being.

Christmas was supposed to get easier as the kids got older, not harder. All morning you had been arguing over clothes and trying to contain your chaotic twin five year olds to their bedroom just so you could brush their hair. Mina kicked you in the chin on accident while you were putting on her boots amidst an hour-long meltdown because she had barely slept the night before, which usually meant she was getting sick- another glorious thing to deal with while you traveled for the weekend.

Sunoo wanted to put on his pants himself, getting the fabric stuck in the zipper, and Chan insisted on helping him fix it. By the time you were back in their bedroom after Mina nearly knocked you out, the pants were ripped and Sunoo had to change his entire outfit, which meant the boys weren’t matching anymore. Meltdown number two. From the brother of a boy with ripped pants who’s favorite thing was getting to match with his twin.

Mina was set free to roam around the house, clunking around in her boots looking for her father, and you squeezed Sunoo into his outfit from last Christmas Eve, mentally preparing yourself to hear sly comments from your mother all weekend wondering why he wasn’t in the new clothes she bought him, and ‘those pants are way too short, dear, do you need me to go shopping with you?’.

The one thing, the one amazing, thoughtful thing that took some of the weight off of your shoulders was your husband taking care of the youngest of your crew, Wonwoo. A tiny, calm, beautiful six month old surprise you all only found out about ten months ago.

Mina had just turned two, the boys were about to graduate Pre-K, and you had run out of bedrooms. With four months to prepare for a new baby, your husband stepped up, with the help of his friend Kai, and converted half of the basement playroom into a bedroom for the twins, one they could grow into throughout the years. Mina moved into the boy's old room, painted purple by her father, and Wonwoo got his own room right next door to his sister.

You would put up with the boys, “Just because we’re twins means we don’t get our own rooms?!”, argument later. That was a problem for future you. Not the current you fighting with your two year old over mittens, dodging snowballs your five year olds were throwing at one another.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you muttered under your breath, knowing your curses couldn’t be heard over the boys shouts or Mina’s wailing. “Boys, in the car now!” One mitten wrestled onto Mina’s right hand. The twins didn’t hear you, or they ignored you. “Boys!” A snowball hit the ground by your feet. Two mittens on, and one seatbelt successfully buckled.

Ready to hoof it through the snow to put a twin on each hip, they were still small enough to do so, the front door shut followed by the jingling of keys as it was locked making both boys freeze in their boots.

Shooting you a look of reassurance before eyeing the boys, your husband, with a baby carrier in one hand and keys in the other, carefully started down the stairs. His smooth black hair that usually hung over his eyes was parted to the side, resting on top of his thin rimmed glasses that he pushed up his nose with his knuckle. A jean jacket not nearly warm enough for this weather hugged his stretch of a frame, hiding a white button up beneath it, the top two buttons undone with nothing under it.

It was a wonder why Wonwoo was such a surprise, your husband’s been a babe since the day you met. Fatherhood didn’t change him the slightest, if anything it made you want him more.

“Soobin,” you said through your teeth, placing your hands on top of your head. “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Speaking quietly as he came closer, you didn’t need your children hearing your moment of despair. They were all being a nuisance, but it was reasonable. The twins were excited, it was Christmas and they were about to spend the weekend with their family they rarely got to see, and Mina was getting sick. Not only that, Mina was two years old and still learning how to properly express the way she was feeling, still learning what emotions even were. Those words were bound to come out of Soobin at some point.

“You’re doing great,” Soobin said, handing you the carrier with your youngest snoozing away inside, bundled up in a bear onesie with ears on the hood, covered up with a fuzzy blanket to keep him warm and to make sure the seat buckles were on him securely. “Put him in his seat, I got tweedledee and tweedledum.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek as you giggled.

Since their father had stepped out of the house both Chan and Sunoo were attentive, one eye on Soobin and one eye on each other. They still made snowballs, but were hesitant to throw them.

Circling around the trunk of the van, taking a peek inside to make sure everyone's bags were there, you watched as Soobin put his hands on his hips, and asked the boys nicely why they weren’t listening to you. The snowballs fell from their gloved fingers and they both shrugged.

“Your mother has been taking care of your sister all morning,” he began, the boys looking up to him with wide eyes. “You know Mina can’t do the things that you can do yet, she still needs a lot of help. I’m so proud of you both for getting dressed on your own and helping each other, but now it’s time to help Mom, okay?”

Setting Wonwoo in his place, making sure everything was properly locked, twice, you tried to not let the twins' attentiveness to their father get you down. It seemed no matter what you did, no matter how you spoke to them, they chose to always, always, listen to Soobin.

Two tiny heads nodded, and two tiny voices spoke at once. “Okay, dad.”

“You’re excited it’s Christmas?” Soobin asked the boys, and they nodded again, faster this time. “Me too! You’re excited to see your cousins?” The boys smiled and nodded, starting to walk toward the car. “Me too, you know we haven’t seen your Uncle Taehyun in forever.”

Your step brother's name made you fumble, bumping the handle of Wonwoo’s carrier, making him stir. “No, no, no.” You whispered, freezing, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t wake.

Chan and Sunoo reached Soobin, both boys reaching up for him, tugging on his clothes in some way. “I can't pick you up right now, you decided to play in the snow and now you’re all wet.” Two pouty five year olds gazed up at him, big, round, sappy eyes. Mina may be his twin, but they all shared the same pouty face. You weren’t sure when the twins mastered it. “You made your decision. Now you have to climb over Mina to get in your seats because your brother is asleep.”

“She will kick us!” Chan nearly shouted, looking up to his father in shock. Sunoo’s glance exchanged between Soobin and his brother, anxious to see what he would say, because you all knew for a fact, that Mina wouldn’t hesitate to kick them.

The toddler had calmed her crying to watch her brothers, gnawing on one of the mittens you stuck back on her hands. Her tear stained cheeks perked up when she heard Soobin say her name. Either that, or she was proud that she already had a reputation at the ripe age of two.

“Mina won’t kick you,” you said, sliding the van door shut on Wonwoo’s side, walking around it to stand beside your husband. Gripping the handle of the passenger door, you raise a brow to Soobin and smirk. “We’re gonna be late, Soob. I’m already dreading seeing my family, I’d like to not pile on to the shit my mother has to say about me.”

“You said a bad word!” Sunoo gasped, pointing at you. Chan started to laugh. Soobin sighed.

“You said a bad word,” he said, completely serious.

Your husband was a lot of things. For starters he was stunning, he knew how to dress, he was an incredible caring man, an amazing father, and a beast in the sheets. Underneath all the dreamy qualities you were still in shock you secured nine years ago, he was an insufferably proper prude. Not that you’d ever tell him that to his face, though you’ve hinted at it just to tease him. He was a gentleman, and he was raising the boys to be the same. He’d be damned if his boys ended up like half of the jerks he grew up with or encountered in his lifetime. Your husband didn’t curse, he spoke with intention, and always thought through everything carefully, sometimes too much.

Nine years together, five and a half years married, he hasn’t seemed to completely rub off on you yet. The two of you were utter opposites, anyone with eyes could see that. Anyone who knew you nine years ago could tell you that.

You and Soobin? You… With Soobin.

You, the loud mouthed, hot headed, class skipper who had detention every other week, with straight edged, outstanding GPA, respectable Soobin. Opposites attract, you assumed. Though you’d be lying if you said the beginning of your relationship wasn’t an excuse to escape the life you used to live. You were in love, you created a beautiful family, and you lived a happy life… An hour and a half away from the family you used to know.

Turning your attention down to the twins, you smiled. “I’m sorry I said a bad word. I’m a little frustrated.”

“But, that’s not an excuse,” Soobin raised his brows, looking from you to the boys. Taking a deep breath, choking back a sigh, you nodded.

“No. It’s not,” you grit your teeth. “I shouldn’t have said that word. I’m sorry.”

Soobin smiled at you. “Into the car boys, if Mina kicks you I don’t think I blame her.” He flashed you a wink as you got into your seat. Now that was more your parenting style, though you understood and appreciated Soobins. You were raised differently, you were still unlearning a lot of things, and it got a little easier with each child that came out of you.

Once the boys were in their seats and buckled after Mina did try to kick them as they climbed over her, your family was on the road, forty five minutes later than you originally planned. Between Sunoo’s outfit mishap, and now being late, you mentally prepared yourself to be berated by your mother. With Soobin by your side it’d be a little bit easier to take. Your stepfather always had your back too, telling your mother to back off if she ever started to lay it on too thick. The one who always took the brunt of it though, the one who seemed to make it disappear, was Taehyun.

Since the start, since your two families blended together, he’d stick up for you no matter the consequence. When it came to school, the two of you in the same grade, inseparable since middle school, if the two of you were caught in trouble he’d take full blame. Of course that only worked until high school when you started to get into trouble on your own, but even then Taehyun would step in front of you at home, getting the worst of the punishment.

It’d been two years since you’d last seen Taehyun. Two summers ago at his eldest daughter's tenth birthday party in his backyard, an hour and a half away in the opposite direction of you. You were the halfway point between him and your parents.

You were both thirty, you were both married, you had three year old twins and a newborn Mina, and he had his freshly ten year old daughter and seven year old son.

His wife, Sana, waltzed around the backyard dressed to the nines with a glass of wine in one hand and her cell phone in the other, showing off her assets to anyone who cared to listen. The woman was a year younger than you both. Her hair, black as night, was pin straight down her slender back exposed by the deep purple low cut dress she had chosen to wear. Around her neck was a diamond necklace she would brag about, how grateful she was that her husband worked so hard to buy it for her, along with the gaudy wedding ring sitting on her left finger.

Their daughter, Rosie, a mini Sana, had clearly been dressed by her mother that morning. You can remember how many times Soobin mumbled, “If Mina ever…” angrily to you, offended that his sister-in-law would allow her daughter to dress that way at ten years of age. The second he brought your step brother into the mix, you shut your husband right down.

Taehyun wasn’t seen with Sana the entire party. He was with his boy, Minho, enjoying what seemed like a very expensive day you were certain he dropped every penny for.

Taking care of Mina while Soobin watched over the twins running around the colorful water sprinklers, you were able to catch Taehyun’s ear only momentarily. A conversation that shoved a knife through your heart, even now if you thought about it for too long.

He was tired, Taehyun. Even though you were the one with a sleeping newborn slung over your shoulder in a dark, quiet hallway of his home. You could see it in his eyes that were once full of life beneath his messy dark hair. He wasn’t the man you knew anymore, and the weighted words you threw at each other when you were twenty came back to haunt you. Both of you.

Twenty was when everything changed. Taehyun got Sana pregnant. To which you begged him to not go through with, knowing what type of girl Sana was, even at nineteen years old. It was an accident, he once called it. Until the accident’s tenth birthday, where he nearly spat at your feet and admitted he did it on purpose.

He knocked Sana up on purpose to get away from you, to erase the past you shared, to which you sneered that that’s the very reason you wound up with Soobin. To get away from him, to erase the past you shared. The hurt that drowned his tired eyes was something you’d never be able to unsee.

Your sharp, hushed, venom laced voices were cut off by your husbands calling up to you from the bottom of Taehyun's carpeted stairs. With two hands on the banisters, Soobin had daggers for eyes, directing them only at Taehyun who you didn’t realize almost had you caged to the wall, the two of you entirely too close considering you had a baby across your chest. Soobin’s baby.

The end played out in your mind, regretting everything that had happened the moment you had collected your boys and gotten into the car. After Taehyun handed over two letters addressed to your twins, you hadn’t spoken since that moment.

Soobin’s hand slid over the soft, flowing fabric of your pants, bringing you back to present time. The twins were babbling away to one another in the third row, Mina was humming to herself, and Wonwoo was still sound asleep. Looking over at your husband, you find him glancing at you ever so often with a soft smile on his lips.

“You alright?” he asked. Grabbing his hand, you laced your fingers together and took a breath.

“Yeah,” you said, half convincing. “Just… tired. Between nursing Wonwoo and Mina fighting sleep last night, I just…”

“Right,” Soobin said, focused on the snowy road ahead. You’ve been on the road for about twenty minutes already. “Why don’t you rest until we get there?” Dragging a thumb over the back of his hand, you shrugged. Much like the needs of your children last night, your racing thoughts and pounding heart weren’t exactly going to soothe you to sleep.

Soobin lowered his brows, along with his voice. “What else is bothering you?” Though he could probably take a wild guess. Hesitating, you made your husband chuckle. “It’s going to be fine. When I talked to your mom she said he was excited to see everyone.”

“He was lying,” you whispered.

“You don’t know that,” Soobin said.

“Yes, I do.”

Pulling up to a red light, Soobin let go of your hand and touched the bottom of your chin, turning you so you would look at him. “It’s been two years. You’re thirty-two, and so is he. He’s your brother, surely you guys can use this weekend to make up and end this sibling tiff.”

The light turned green and he grabbed your hand again, his attention on the street and keeping his family safe on the hazardous roads.

Toying with his fingers, you mumbled, “He’s not my brother,” and ignored Soobin’s eyeroll and the way he pulled his hand away from you to grip the steering wheel.

“I’d also love to go this weekend without any of that,” he said, voice low.

With a heavy exhale, you twisted yourself nearly sideways to face him. “Don’t do that.”

He shot you a glare. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“Soobin.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “There’s four kids back there now, baby- Ugh, babe- Love, Jesus Christ.” Your bottom lip escaped between your teeth. Soobin shook his head. “Maybe since you’re fighting he won’t call you that. One less thing to worry about.”

Your relationship with Taehyun was a rocky path that Soobin somehow understood since day one. At the start of your relationship and up until Rosie’s tenth birthday, Soobin had never been too fond of him, knowing that Taehyun was ‘one of the jerk’s’ he didn’t want his sons becoming. At this point in your life, you’re saddened you’d have to agree.

The house you grew up in was nothing short of spectacular. Two stories high with staircases on each end of the house, it was a classically built home that your mother and step father took excellent care of. Half of the outside of the home was grey stone, while the other half, sunken back a bit, was a wash of sky blue. The driveway was grand and stretched up the blue side of the house to two chestnut brown garage doors, and from the paved driveway a sidewalk lined with gardens wound up the lawn to the front door that matched the garage.

Everything was covered in snow, making the house draped in twinkling white Christmas lights appear like it was on the cover of a magazine. From the bay window on the stone side of the house you could see the Christmas tree all lit up, wrapped in silver garland with an ornament on each branch. Every Christmas was the same. Dazzling lights outside, a show stopping display of a tree, and an anxiety attack that one of your kids would break a decoration around each corner of the house. It was like your mother forgot what it was like to have toddlers, they were worse than cats, they touched anything and everything.

Pulling into the shoveled driveway, the snow was still coming down and had worsened on the drive, both you and Soobin peeked behind you at the quiet car as soon as it was in park.

Mina, out. Wonwoo, out. Chan, out. Sunoo, sitting with his hands in his lap, smiling at his parents.

“Hi honey,” you cooed. “Thought you were asleep like everyone else.” Soobin laughed.

“What’s up, bud,” he said. “You’ve been pretty quiet. You didn’t want to talk to mom and dad?”

Sunoo shrugged, his smile still puffing out his cheeks. “I was just watching.” The five year old gestured out the window with one hand before slapping it on top of his other one, gazing out at the snow.

You and Soobin shared a look of adoration. “Just watching,” you both said at the same time with a soft laugh.

“Do you wanna wake up Chan, or do you want Daddy to do it?”

Sunoo glanced at his snoozing brother and his crooked neck, then shrugged again. “Will he be cranky if I wake him up?”

Soobin bit back another laugh. “He’s always cranky,” he mumbled for only you to hear, then said to his son, “Wake him up and tell him he has to help me bring in our things. So do you.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Sunoo said, reaching over as far as he could in his carseat to tap his brother's arm that dangled off the side.

Looking at Soobin, you nodded. “I got the babies. Why don’t you come say hi first, then we can all come back out here for everything else once my mom has hold of Meens?”

“She’s going to pass her off to Jin, you really think she’s going to let Wonwoo stay asleep?” Soobin smirked. He glanced past you out the window and took a breath. “Taehyun’s here, he can hold the baby. He hasn’t met him yet.”

Peeking out the window, the old, black Jeep Wrangler littered with different stickers made your stomach sink to your knees. He’s driven that thing since he got his license. When you met Soobin’s gaze you could tell he was serious.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking note of Chan in the back of the van who was rubbing his eyes vigorously. “He can hold him.”

Soobin reached across your seat, touching beneath your chin like he once did about an hour ago. “Listen,” he said softly, dragging a thumb over your cheek. “We’re going to have a good weekend. I promise. It’s Wonwoo’s first Christmas,” he dropped his voice to a whisper for a second, “The boys are getting their first bikes,” you both smiled, “And you and Taehyun… You’re going to make things right. It’s time to make things right. To… move on.”

“Don’t make it sound weird,” you muttered. Soobin perked a brow. “No, come on,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Your husband laughed, then leaned forward to give you a kiss.

Both Sunoo and Chan shrieked, “EWE!”

“I love you, you weirdo,” Soobin smiled. Mina stirred behind you, catching his attention for a second. Grabbing onto his hand you pressed a kiss to his fingers and sighed.

“I love you too, Soob, so much.”

His smile grew. “I know.”

Within minutes your entire crew was up the winding sidewalk, taking your sweet, sweet time because the kids found the lights so interesting. Mina, curled up into your shoulder, could've stared at the twinkling snowflakes hanging from the trees for hours. The twins led you up the couple of steps to the front door, telling both you and Soobin to be careful because it was slippery. Car seat in hand, Soobin saluted them as a thank you, and then insisted that they were the ones to knock on the door. Their faces lit up, their tiny fists going to town on the chestnut wood, the wreath hanging on it shaking like crazy.

A sing-songy voice could be heard on the other side along with another. Your blood pressure was through the roof. Catching a glimpse of Soobin watching the boys with pride helped ease the nerves, at least you’d be here with him, with all of them, your mini me’s you created with his help. Soobin was right, this was going to be a great weekend, you were here together, and that was enough.

The doorknob to the door rattled, and it swung open in a flash, your heart rate skyrocketing for a millisecond until your mother cheered, throwing her arms around your boys.

“Finally!” Fabulous as always, she wore a champagne colored chiffon dress cut off at her knees with flowing sleeves and matching Loubuittons. Diamonds hung around her neck and dripped from her ears and her wrists. Her hair was curled, and her makeup was pristine. Always the picture of perfection.

“Hi Mom,” you smiled, pressing your lips together, firm. With a twin on each leg, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and shot you an award winning grin.

“Hello my dear,” she crooned. “Hi Soobin, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Joy,” Soobin smiled.

“Come in! Come in! God, it’s freezing out here,” Joy shuffled herself inside with the boys attached to her, making them giggle like crazy. Exchanging a look with Soobin, you both rolled your eyes.

“Rosie and Minho are in here somewhere,” Joy began, detaching the twins from her. Sunoo and Chan lifted their chins and looked around the house, taking it in as if they had never seen it before. “You’ll find them eventually, they’re not good at hiding.”

Your mother laughed toward you as if you’d get her joke. You settled for a sympathy laugh regardless, one she didn’t notice. Mouth agape, she tiptoed to your side, sliding a hand over Mina’s back.

“Think we’re coming down with something,” you said, giving your girl a gentle bounce. “She’s gonna be clingy all weekend.”

Joy pouted her silicone filled lips and held open her arms. “Be clingy right here, darling. Come ‘ere, sweetie.”

Kissing the top of Mina’s head you spoke quietly to her. “Go see your grandma, Meens.” You attempted to take her off your hip, but your girl held on tight.

“Oh, Mina,” Joy sang. “Joy has cookies in the kitchen, do you want some cookies?” Mina picked her head up, her heavy eyes blinking a couple of times before she held up a hand.

“Cookie,” she babbled.

“Cookie?” Chan whined. “Cookies? Joy, you have cookies?”

“Can we have cookies too?” Sunoo asked, looking up at you and Soobin. “I want some cookies too, please.”

Joy waited for the parents to answer, giving you eyes as persuasive as your kids.

“Well,” Soobin said, looking at you. “Can’t say no, you already brought it up. You can each have one cookie.”

Joy held her hands up and Mina nearly jumped into them. Wiggling your daughter out of her winter coat and mittens, Soobin took care of the boys and helped you hang everything up in the closet by the door after Joy hurried off to the kitchen with the kids. Sliding a hand around your back, he kissed your cheek and chuckled to himself.

“What?” Smiling up at him, you wrapped your arms around his back. He nuzzled his nose against yours and took a breath.

“Mm, nothing,” he shrugged. “Just thinking about how those kids are going to be glued to your mom all weekend.” His hands slipped lower over your pants, smoothing over the flowing fabric. “They’re going to forget about us, and we can get lost in this big house, and-” A whine slipped out of the carseat a few feet away from you. Soobin waited with baited breath for the baby to make another noise. You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face into the collar of his jacket.

“Unfortunately that one can smell if I’ve ventured too far away from him,” you said. Soobin, still smiling, shook his head and kissed you much deeper than he had all day.

“Guess she was going to let him sleep,” Soobin said, untangling himself from you. He started for the carseat, greeting his youngest son with the sweetest voice.

“Yeah, I guess,” you furrowed your brows and glanced down the hall toward the kitchen where commotion was evident. “Here.” Turning to your husband who had Wonwoo out of the seat, tucked in the air in a newborn scrunch, you held out your arms to scoop up your little one. “He’s gonna be hungry soon.”

Adjusting the hood on his head while he was cradled in your arms, Soobin cocked his head to the side. “Give him to Joy, he can have a cookie.”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. Tapping your baby’s bottom, you turn around to peek down the hall again. “Shall we? Surely someone in there with arms will take him. I’ll help you bring in our stuff.”

“The boys will help me,” Soobin said, following you as you started down the long hall lined with galleries of photos of your family, both immediate and distant. There were plenty of you and Taehyun.

“The boys are five, and we have a lot of stuff,” you said. “They’re going to carry two bags and then they’ll hear Joy say something that sparks their interest and like you said, they’ll forget we’re here.”

The hardwood floor clicked beneath your shoes, echoing up into the high ceilings lined with wooden beams. The beige walls in this place seemed to stretch for miles, and just as you expected, there was some sort of Christmas pizzazz on every square inch. Turning into the kitchen that was toasty warm, you find the entire room was brand new. The last time you were here was shortly before Wonwoo was born, so that means in the past six months this kitchen had had another facelift.

The tile was marble, the counters were marble, and the cabinets were a dark forest green. On the end of the house, the ceiling on the kitchen was slanted and adorned with a massive skylight lined with spotlights shining down into the room.

“Mom, what the hell,” you said a little too loud.

“Bad word!” Sunoo pointed at you.

Joy, at the island counter with Mina sitting on the marble with a cookie in her hand and both boys standing beside her, looked toward you curiously. “What's the matter, honey?”

“This,” you gestured around the kitchen you had to admit was gorgeous. “It’s like the fifth time you’ve redone it.”

Joy frowned. “You don’t sound happy, what is it ugly? What did I miss?” She parroted her head around like she’d find an imperfection somewhere. Mina copied her, glancing around before she spotted you and Soobin and smiled.

“Mama,” she said, waving her cookie toward you.

“Hi Mina,” you nodded, stepping closer to her. “No, Mom, it’s… stunning. Just wish you’d commit to an aesthetic. This shit’s expensive.”

“Bad wooord!” Sunoo and Chan shouted.

“Babe,” Soobin’s tone was flat.

“This shit is very expensive, darling, but my God, it’s gorgeous,” Joy waved a hand around, flicking her diamond bracelet up and down her wrist.

“Joy! Bad word!” Chan pouted, looking up at his grandmother in defeat. Soobin sighed heavily, and you wanted to apologize, but he pulled the boys out of the kitchen before you had the chance to do so.

“We’re going to bring our things inside,” your husband said to you, disappearing with the boys down the hall.

Once he was gone Joy wiggled her brows. “Daddy Soobin still strict as ever, huh?”

“He’s not strict, Mom,” you shook your head. “He’s far from it.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, taking a bite out of a cookie. Mina tried to grab it from her, but she pulled it away. “Sweetie, you’ve got your own, and your military boot camp daddy said only one.”

“One,” Mina smiled, holding up a finger. Joy’s face lit up, making your daughter laugh.

“Good job, Mina,” she cooed. “How’s that baby of yours?” She asked you while she played with Mina.

Looking down at Wonwoo who was gazing up at the skylight, you smiled at him. “He’s perfect.”

“You feeling better about adjusting to four?” Joy snuck a glimpse of you, her eyes written with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I am,” you nodded. “Wonwoo’s an angel, so he made it too easy. Makes me feel like we could do five.” Joy thankfully laughed along with your joke.

“Yeah, well, if my husband looked like that I don’t think we’d stop.”

“Mom!” Your eyes went wild as she laughed.

“Come on, I’ve said it since you started dating him, Soobin’s a good one.”

Looking down at your baby again, you smiled. “He is a good one.” The kitchen went quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from Mina as she tried to put a cookie into Joy's mouth, and cheering to herself as she did. Praising her, Joy took a bite of the sugary snack and put it down, meeting your unreadable gaze.

“What’s the matter? You’re pregnant again, aren’t you.”

“Mom!”

“You have that look on your face,” she circled her finger toward you. Mina grabbed onto it and tried to put it in her mouth. “No, honey, you can’t eat my jewelry… What’s going on?”

With a breath, you shrugged and forced the words out of your mouth, attempting to sound as casual as possible. “Taehyun and Sana here?”

Joy lifted a brow. “Taehyun’s here. No Sana.”

“No?” you questioned in surprise. Joy eyed you curiously.

“Sweetie, they’ve been divorced for almost a year,” she said. Placing her palms flat on the marble counter around your daughter to keep her in a safe space, Joy narrowed her eyes. “You’re telling me you didn’t know that?”

Mouth wide open, you scoffed. “Had no idea. How did this not come up this summer?”

Joy shrugged. “I dunno, I figured the two of you had talked, and it’s his business, he didn’t need me spreading it around.”

She had a point.

“When was the last time you spoke to your brother?”

The word made your skin crawl.

“He’s not…” you nearly sneered, but stopped yourself before you opened a can of worms. “We haven’t talked… in a long time.”

Joy dodged a Mina kick, but still swam in her laughter, squeezing her cheeks with glee. “Tell me when that was.”

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath. “Rosie’s tenth birthday party.”

“What!” Joy shouted, startling Mina. “I’m sorry, honey, c’mere.” She popped your daughter on her hip and scrambled out of the kitchen. “Follow me.”

Doing what you were told, you shifted Wonwoo over your shoulder and followed your mother to the other side of her home down the stretch of another hall. On the way you passed by a full bathroom, an office space and a living room with a TV screen as large as one in a movie theater. You ended up at the bottom of a staircase with your heart at the bottom of your stomach.

“Taehyun!” Joy shouted up the wooden dual level stairs.

“Mom, stop, we’ll talk,” you whispered, but your cries for help went unnoticed.

“Kang Taehyun!”

“Tae-yun,” Mina said, observing her grandmother. “Tae-yun!”

“Great,” you mumbled. What a fantastic word for her to learn and bring home with her.

“I’m coming!” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Hang on!” Even muffled by walls it churned your stomach into knots.

“You’re gonna talk now,” Joy shot you a glare over her shoulder. “It is Christmas goddamnit, I won’t have my kids fighting on Christmas.”

All you could give her was a sigh. From the front of the house you heard the door open and close. Poor boys were only on trip number one.

“Mom, I have to help Soobin with the car-”

Her hand cut you off. “Hush, he’s coming.”

Footsteps sounded upstairs, hurried footsteps, ones you would recognize blindfolded. You spent years listening to and memorizing the footsteps of the people you shared this house with.

“Taehyun!” Joy shouted for the last time.

He appeared at the top of the stairs with a grin, and the wind was knocked out of you. Meeting your eyes first he must’ve read your energy, because he blinked a couple of times and retreated down a single step hesitantly. You wanted to greet him somehow, this was no way for you to see somebody for the first time in two years, standing at the bottom of a staircase speechless.

He looked different. His hair was a little lighter, and you wondered if it was done on purpose or if age was already getting to him. Dressed the same as he usually would be, dark ripped jeans and a band tee that finally fit him properly instead of hanging off of his skinny frame. He hated the gym, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d been working out… But, then how would he be filling out the sleeves of the tee the way he was if he wasn’t lifting… something.

There was color in his cheeks and life in his big brown eyes. He looked happy. And it tore your heart apart.

“Hi, Baby,” he shot you a big, toothy grin. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Long time no see.” Taehyun's gaze dropped to the baby in your arms. You swore his smile faltered before he met your eyes once more.

“Care to explain to me why your sister told me the two of you haven’t spoken in two years?” Joy cut the ever so joyous reunion off, and for once you were grateful for her obliviousness. Taehyun tilted his head to the side to think, but you know he knew damn well why the two of you haven’t spoken. It just wasn’t something you could share in front of Joy.

“Uhm, it’s just… Life, I guess,” Taehyun shrugged twice, looking at you for help. Either that or he was mentally crucifying you for opening your mouth.

Joy popped a hip and clicked her tongue. “You’re a shit liar, just like your father,” she said. “Whatever is going on, you two work it out before dinner please.” Stepping away from the stairs, Mina in her arms, she held up a hand and shouted, “No fighting on Christmas!”

You watched her walk away, and the moment she was out of earshot you pointed your attention up to the top of the stairs. Taehyun’s eyes were wide, and his smile was gone. Both of his hands held onto the wooden railing, like he was ready to prop himself up on it and slide down like he’s done before many times. He tried to teach you how to do it a long, long time ago, but you ended up with stitches in your elbow instead.

“You really said something to her?” Taehyun broke the minute of silence that was beginning to suffocate you both. “I was fully prepared for you to walk in here and we just pretend like everything is okay for a couple days for her sake.”

“I can’t do that,” you whispered.

His jaw tightened. “I need you to do that.” He started down the stairs, his chunky sneakers clunking with every rushed step he took. Brushing past you, his scent was familiar. He still wore the same cologne.

“And what if I can’t?” Your voice made him freeze. He turned around halfway.

“Then, I’m gonna take my kids and we’re gonna leave,” he said, then continued down the hall.

“We’re really not gonna talk about this?” you asked. “We’re not even gonna try to fix it?”

He whirled around, swinging his hands at his sides before he crossed them over his chest. His biceps bulged out of his sleeves. “We’re not,” he gritted his teeth. He took two steps closer to you. “We can’t. There is nothing to fix.”

“It’s Christmas.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

Taehyun glanced down to where Wonwoo laid. “Yeah. It’s Christmas. You keep having babies, and I’m divorced. You’re happily married, playing house with your amazing husband, and keep pulling me back under whenever you come around and wanna talk.” You gulped, he watched you do so. “We’re done. We were a long time ago. Now, we act like everything is fucking perfect, or I’m gonna get called into work tonight and break Joys heart.”

Staring each other down, he didn’t walk away until you nodded. Wonwoo stirred on your shoulder, a small sound slipping out of the boy's mouth. Rubbing his back you watched Taehyun disappear around a corner wrapped in silver garland. Resting your cheek on the hood of Wonwoo’s onesie, you soothed him with a gentle hush, bouncing him ever so gently, turning away from the hall.

An empty cry came out of the infant you cradled, one that made you laugh. “I know, lovie,” you breathed. “I feel the same way.”

Your eyes landed on a set of photos on the wall in a sleek black frame. Both photos, top and bottom, were from you and Taehyun’s first day of high school. Joy took your picture before you got on the bus in the morning, and then again when you got home.

In the photo on top you were both dressed nice and your hair was done. Taehyun, as skinny as a rail, was covered in black with a red checkered flannel around his shoulders, and you were in a yellow sundress. You would’ve never worn it if Taehyun didn’t tell you it made you look pretty. Hanging around your bedroom door all morning while you tried to put on a little makeup that Joy had given you, he wouldn’t leave you alone.

At that point, freshman year of high school, your families had been living together for four years. Jin and Joy weren’t married yet, you can still hear the distant jokes they’d make about living in sin.

The bottom photo was hysterical, it honestly made you smile. Standing out front on the sidewalk both you and Taehyun struck funny poses, and on the bus ride home, you’d almost switched outfits. His flannel was tied around your waist, and the two of you tried to switch shoes even though his feet were three sizes bigger than yours. Every piece of jewelry you had put on that morning was given to him, which would mark this as the day that Jin and Joy found out he had pierced his ears himself, without your help, of course.

Neither your mother nor his father, still to this day, ever found out that sometime that July the two of you went full Parent Trap and stabbed needles through his earlobes in the bathroom you shared. Lindsay Lohan really made it seem entirely too easy, it took three tries to get the needle through his skin. Practice makes perfect though, because when you were eighteen you pierced each other's second and third holes in that bathroom at four in the morning after downing half of Joys Svedka. You made sure to fill it up with water before she and Jin came home from their second cruise of the year.

Low and behold, in true Joy fashion, she never found out.

He had three silver studs in each ear today. Two summers ago he had three silver studs in each ear. You wondered if changing the jewelry gave him the same numb feeling it gave you. He used to wear diamonds, and sometimes he’d wear hoops, or chains that hung from each piercing. Either he didn’t care to switch out the earrings now, in which case he could just take the jewelry out and let the holes close, or he cared too much, and couldn’t touch them.

Scoffing under your breath at yourself, you shake your head. Thirty-two years old and you were still wallowing in the halls of your mothers home trying to put the puzzle pieces together to figure out if Taehyun cared about you. “Grow up,” you mumbled, spinning around your heels to find your boys. They’d pull you out of this.

“Hope you aren’t talking to me,” Soobin said with a smile, turning the corner just as you were about to sprint out of the hall.

Startled, you huff a laugh and meet him at his side. “No, not you,” you said. “Myself.” Soobin poked one of Wonwoo’s hands, letting the infant latch onto it, squeezing it with might. Only your husband's eyes flickered up to question you.

“Taehyun said you needed me?”

Your face twisted in confusion. “What?”

Thinning his lips into a line, Soobin bobbed his head. “He insisted on helping bring our stuff inside, and when I refused, politely, he told me that you needed me and sent me this way.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“What?” Soobin tilted his head. “I mean- Yeah, but, what happened? Are you okay?”

The sigh you let out ended with a gravely groan. “I’m fine, Soob. I told Joy we haven’t spoken, and she went… All Joy. He’s mad I told her. Said it’s something we can’t work out, ever. Guess he sent you this way ‘cause he thinks I’ll be emotional about it.”

Soobins sparkling eyes studied your being. “Are you?”

“Do I look like I’m throwing a tantrum?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he paused, looking down at his son who was getting more vocal. “I do know you expected things to get back to normal after you saw each other, though. You wanted to talk it out.”

“I did,” you said, averting your gaze to the floor. “As normal as our normal is.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, but not to degrade you. “Yeah, babe, I wanted you guys to work this out.” Snapping your eyes to his, your lips parted in shock. It made him smirk and roll his eyes again. “As much as I… dislike…” he waved his free hand behind him, “Most of this, and what it put you through… He was your best friend. You can’t deny that.”

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered, and Soobin smized before he shook his head.

“That’s sweet,” he smiled. “But, we know that’s not true.”

Wonwoo broke out into a cry, a real one this time. Shifting him to a cradle you bounced him and hummed.

“Hungry,” you whispered to the baby. Soobin took a step closer, closing the empty space between you. “Imma go upstairs to feed him.”

Soobin smoothed a hand over yours. “Give him to me. He can have a bottle for now.” Meeting his gaze, you purse your lips. “Go make sure Taehyun didn’t let Chan and Sunoo in the snow.”

Following you out into the foyer where there were a plethora of bags and suitcases, you helped Soobin with Wonwoo’s diaper bag, a battered blue thing that had ‘C. & S.’ stitched into the material right beneath the zipper. All four of your babies have used this bag, and you intended to follow through with the tradition no matter how many times Jin and Joy tried to gift you a brand new, brand name expensive one. Neither you or your husband have gotten a glimpse of the tree yet, but you could make a huge assumption that there would be one wrapped up for you beneath those glittering branches.

Kids were messy, and baby’s were no better. Between you and Soobin, you’ve both told them that they didn’t need to give you the high end things with marked up prices that would be ruined in a few days. You were doing perfectly fine with what you had. And Wonwoo is the baby of four! Back home you had a house filled to brim with enough to have you settled for a fifth or even a sixth.

“Everything is in here, right?” Slinging the bag over Soobin’s shoulder that didn’t have an infant over it, your voice was quiet. Moving at about a mile a minute, you popped the bag open to double check your husband would have what he needed, and listened to him as he laughed.

“I packed the bag, darling, everything’s there,” he said. Looking up at him, you blinked a couple of times. “I’ll be in the kitchen feeding him, okay?” You bobbed your head, rubbing Wonwoo’s back. “I’ll also be looking for our daughter, she and Joy are very quiet.” Darting his eyes down the hall, a snicker escaped you both before he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Come find us when you grab the boys.”

A well-oiled, beautifully communicative team. Soobin truly was the greatest. Coming with so many faults and so much baggage, just look at where you are for the weekend, your husband very rarely, and almost never at all, brings you down for it. Trips like these are always a reminder that you struck gold nine years ago when you decided to take him up on that date night.

Ice cream and a movie. The simplest night, yet one you’ll cherish and remember forever. He picked you up in his used white, two door BMW, from the front porch of this very house. Knocking on the door, Jin was the one to answer. Soobin, in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, stepped up and held out his hand to shake your step-fathers. Back then he wore thick rimmed glasses, nothing like the skinny frames he wears now. They sat on the edge of his nose, and his dark bangs that used to hang in front of his face brushed right over the top of them.

He was totally boy next door, entirely pure, and all the more sweet. A gentleman, he paid for it all, he held your hand during the movie, and when he dropped you off, he walked you to the door and kissed your cheek. It wasn’t anything like you were used to, you had never, ever in your life had a date, yet alone one like Soobin. That one Friday night turned into every Friday night, and four kids later here you were.

Tugging the front door open to fetch your boys, Taehyun seemed to be walking in at the same exact time, bumping directly into you as he fumbled with the door. Nose to nose, you didn’t have a second to even see if the twins were covered in snow as they bolted over the threshold past your legs.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he muttered. His eyes darted away from yours, watching the boys fly down one of the halls, you weren’t sure which.

Still gripping the door handle, digging your fingertips into the gold, you were certain your knuckles were white. Jaw as tight as can be, you sucked in a breath, his cologne surrounding you both comforting and all the more repulsive. Centimeters between you, you wanted nothing more than to release the door and lay your palm out on the side of his face, preferably at a speed that would knock some sense into him. Though you aren’t sure for what.

Taehyun looked down at you, his round lips pursing slightly as he read your expression. A snarky breath of air came out of him as he rolled his eyes. “Give it up,” he said. There was an insatiable itch lying just beneath your skin.

“Yanno, I would, actually,” you began, your eyebrows plummeting. “But, you listened to me.”

A real smirk graced his lips, flashing you his perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Sana,” you said. Your entire being filled with glee when his cocky smile fell off his face. “What was it, two years ago? Something like that right?” He rolled his eyes again, his staple. “Someone told me that they were… happy? Was that it? That they were happy, and not exhausting themselves for love? Overworking themselves to get out of their house, to get away from their wife? To get-” “Oh my god, shut up!” Taehyun groaned, dipping his head forward.

The newfound life in his eyes you caught a glimpse of was very much real. The big, round, chocolatey brown, galaxy filled eyes were back. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed them. They were set perfectly on his face, the buttery olive color of his skin making them pop right above his sculpted nose and cheekbones. His face was slender, and a little small, but his eyes were oceans, filled with wonder. They always have been.

Boys always got the things girls didn’t, like the eyelashes, and Taehyun had plenty to spare. With each blink they fluttered, the chocolate brown turning into a daydream the longer you gazed up at him. His hardened, annoyed expression softened, and you felt yours do the same. His pink lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes flickered between yours, slowly, like they were trying to drink up this moment, as if it would never happen again.

Thirty-two looked good, the years were clearly kind to him, and you only hoped he was thinking the same. After four kids and five years of sleepless nights, you weren’t feeling your best. Not only that, you were also six months postpartum, wearing clothes that barely hugged your figure so you’d be comfortable. After those four kids, comfort had become a priority.

Taehyun was single now, he had bulked up, and you figured out in these two minutes that he colored his hair lighter on purpose. He looked good. He looked nice. He looked like himself. His entire fit tumbled you back almost twelve years, before Sana, before kids, before everything went to shit. It left you unsettled, but it also wrapped around you with warmth, and safety. Normal, and happy, and comforting, like home should be.

A pout snuck onto your lips, one that Taehyun shifted his gaze toward. “Tae,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“No, no, no, you’re gonna cry,” he shook his head the slightest. “Don’t cry.”

“But I will,” you pressed your lips together tight after the words left you. “Talk to me. Please. Especially now, please.”

A sharp breath shot through him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours. “I don’t know if I can handle going there again.” His voice was a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” your eyebrows flipped over, pleading with him. Now he looked away, toward the floor between you. “We can start from two years ago, or we can start over, we can be brand new, we can be…” you gulped, “Brother and sister.”

His shoulders shot back as he stood up straight and plastered the cocky smirk back on his lips. “You really think we can do that?”

Nodding, you tried to smile, but it wouldn’t work. “I do,” you lied to keep him talking. Taehyun shrugged and dropped his smug act that never stood a chance around you, you weren’t even sure why he still tried. “For the sake of our families and our futures, I do.” His eyes melted into yours. The lump lodged in your throat forced a tiny tear out of the corner of your eye. “You were my best friend, Tae.”

“We were codependent and stupid,” he sighed. The words shoved a knife into your gut.

“I don’t disagree,” you said to his surprise. “Codependent and stupid. But, you were my best friend. I miss you.”

Hesitating, Taehyun danced his eyes all around your face, studying you, taking you in. With a breath and a heavy exhale, he nodded, swallowing hard. “I miss you, too.”

“Not lying?”

He shook his head. “Not lying.”

A smile lit up your face. “Joy still has those pictures of us on the wall, the ones from freshman year?”

“The clothes switch?” You both said at the same time and laughed.

“Oh god, they couldn’t take us anywhere,” Taehyun said.

“Menaces, both of us,” you giggled.

Taehyun quirked a brow. “I think I still have those earrings, the ones you had on that day.”

“Now you’re lying, there’s no way you have the-”

“Dangly silver diamonds Joy gave me for our middle school graduation.”

“Dangly silver diamonds Joy gave you for our middle school graduation.”

The both of you screwed your mouths shut and held in a laugh. Taehyun's cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink, and it wasn’t from the open door you were both still standing in. Peeking at the floor like a flustered teenager, he licked his lips and huffed a laugh.

“See,” you said, getting his attention. “We keep talking at the same time, that’s something siblings do, right?”

Taehyun cringed, the physical reaction he had to the words was the same as you.

“That’s…” he began, curling his lip.

“Weird?” you added quietly, and he nodded. “Agreed. I hate it.”

“Friends?” he offered, his voice jumping up at the end, preparing himself for you to hate it. “Is that… less weird?”

“Friends,” you smiled, bouncing your knees once to signify your delight. It was going to have to be something you both worked for, but it was better than nothing. “Thank you.” Reaching between you, you rested your hand on his arm and tried to not express your shock over the muscles that rippled beneath your touch.

Taehyun glanced at your fingers for a moment, then he smiled and gave his full attention back to you. Lifting a hand, he brushed it over your cheek and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers dance over the earrings you chose to wear. Breath hitching in your throat, your grip tensed on his arm, squeezing accidentally. Time slowed, and for a moment you forgot where you were. A screech from the kitchen from one of your kids brought you back, and both of your hands dropped in an instant. Neither of you had anything to say.

“No wonder it’s freezing!” Joy’s voice carried from around the corner where she appeared from. Whipping yourself around, jumping away from Taehyun, you smiled and took a deep breath. “Shut the damn door!” She was kidless with one arm tucked under the other.

“Sorry,” you said in a hurry, bringing yourself closer to her so that Taehyun could follow orders and push the door shut, clicking the lock into place. Joy took her hands to your shoulders and rubbed your arms, flashing you a curious brow. “We brought the house with us, clearly.” Peeking over your shoulder, you meet Taehyun’s eyes, watching you.

Joy looked from Taehyun, to you, then back to Taehyun. “Did we make up?” She forced her serious tone out of the depths of where she locked away all her parenting skills. Both you and Taehyun gave her a nod.

“All good, Mom,” you said. “Can I help you with dinner? Are we getting anything started yet?”

Joy pressed a hand to your cheek, right where Taehyun’s had been. “Jin’s at the store picking up a couple of last minute things, when he gets back we’ll really get started.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s got my kids,” Taehyun snickered, waltzing past the two of you toward the kitchen.

“Does he?!” Joy shouted. “This whole time I thought they were getting into trouble somewhere up there!” She gestured to the floor above her.

Taehyun paused beside her and grabbed her shoulder. “Joy, be honest, you never knew what happened up there.”

“I knew enough, okay?” Defending herself, she held up a hand. “You were two teenagers going through everything at the same exact time, I was not going to get in your way! I was a teenager before, okay? I hated when my mother was in my space. When we moved into this house you both got the second floor for a reason!”

“A+ parenting, Joy,” Taehyun nodded, and you did your best to swallow a giggle.

Joy groaned. “Come on you two, I’ve been up there. I wasn’t a neglectful mother! Taehyun, we helped you move out, I saw the walls and the carpets in both your rooms, and the tile in the bathroom. You were kids, you were stupid, but you had your own space and it made you two closer than ever, and as a mother, I couldn’t ask for more.”

Tiny feet running down the hall stole everyone's attention. Chan and Sunoo, at the speed of light, wearing wicked smiles, were flying toward the other end of the hall. As they passed by the three of you, Sunoo latched onto Taehyun's legs, his short arms just making it around them.

“Whoa!” Taehyun shouted, gripping the little one by the back to make sure he wouldn’t fall, his voice signaling to Chan that his brother had stopped shorthand.

“What the heck are you two doing?” You watched Chan turn around and wrap himself around Taehyun's other leg, his arms just barely reaching his brother's shoulders. The twins laughed maniacally, then gazed up at Taehyun.

“We was racing, Mom!” Chan said, sucking down deep breaths.

“We were racing,” Taehyun corrected.

Sunoo’s smile was so wide it almost hid the tired in his eyes. The only one out of four to not have a car nap. “We raced to Uncle Taehyun! I won!”

Joy planted a hand over heart. “How sweet,” she said, giving you a look.

Chan leapt away from his uncle and crossed his arms over his tucked in button down. Dark brows lowered furiously, your five year old scolded his copy. “We was not, Sunoo!” A little performer, Chan stomped a foot. “You said the hallway!”

“We were not, Chan,” Taehyun corrected him again. He crouched down and wrapped an arm around Sunoo, then motioned for Chan to join him in his other one. “Besides, it doesn't matter who won, right?” Sunoo opened his mouth to object, but Taehyun moved right along. “It’s Christmas, and Santa comes tonight.” The boy's eyes shot open wide, and you and Joy laughed quietly.

“He’s so good with them,” Joy said to you under her breath.

“We can’t be mad at each other when Santa’s coming, can we?!” Taehyun asked, and both boys shook their heads. “Right,” he grinned, the sight making your stomach flip. “Now, I say we go upstairs and look for something to do while we wait for Rosie and Minho to come back and play. Sounds good?”

“Good!” Sunoo and Chan shouted.

“Yanno, it’s uncanny,” Joy said as she took a step backward toward the kitchen. You both watched Taehyun take a twin with each hand and start for the stairs on the opposite end of the house. “They share no relation, but those boys have his damn eyes.” Shooting you a smile like she didn’t just send your stomach plummeting for the floor, she turned around for the kitchen and shouted, “Soobin, I want my grandson! Give him up!”

Arms slung around Soobin’s shoulders where he sat at the kitchen table, you rested your chin on the top of his head, watching Joy rock Wonwoo in her arms. The chiffon fabric that hung from her arms brushed over his face occasionally, making him giggle, and in return, making everyone else giggle. Still swaddled in his teddy bear onesie, Wonwoo stared at his grandmother in awe, his stubby fingers trying to reach for her shiny jewelry.

“I love it when they can’t run away,” Joy cooed, nuzzling her nose on Wonwoo’s. “In a couple months he’ll be on the move, then you won’t be able to do this anymore.”

“Ouch, okay, don’t do that to me,” you said, and Soobin agreed.

“That’s our baby,” Soobin frowned. “Please don’t rush it.”

Joy smiled toward you two, nodding to Mina who was cuddled up on Soobins lap. Her thumb was in her mouth and her eyes were halfway shut. She was completely dead weight, Soobin already tried to move her. She wouldn’t budge.

“Least that one’s still cuddly,” she said. Blowing a raspberry, you glanced down at your daughter. “Your only girl… Consider another.” Eyes boggling out of your head, you and Soobin both, you laughed and held each other tighter. Soobin had his hand wrapped around one of your wrists.

“Four seems like quite enough, Joy,” Soobin said. Joy raised her eyebrows, shrugged, and cooed down at Wonwoo. “We didn’t even know that one was coming!”

Joy’s attention shot up. “Exactly,” she smized. “It could happen again!”

You and Soobin shared a quick look. “Mm,” you hummed. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t be so silly,” Joy said to the baby, directed at you. “Anything can happen, anything is possible… Right, Wonwoo?” Your son cooed at his grandmother. “That’s right, sweetie pie.”

Watching your mother cradle the baby and talk about having more kids as if it were nothing but a past time nauseated you. Here, in a kitchen that’s been redone oodles of times, in a house that was oodles of dollars you cannot even begin to comprehend, with a woman who had one daughter with a man she was married to for not even a year.

Dating men on and off throughout your childhood before she met Jin, you encountered a lot of strange and unusual people who somehow, conveniently, always had money. They would spoil your mother and buy her things she didn’t need that she’d give to you. Plenty of them offered her marriage, but she refused for whatever good reason she had in her materialistic mind.

It wasn’t that she was a bad mother, she didn’t neglect you, or brush you off, or set you aside… It was more of the fact that she was rarely present, and if she was present, she wasn’t paying attention.

Most of the men she dealt with were way older than her and typically kidless. If they did have kids, they were old enough to be out of the picture without having to be around to see their father mess around with a gold digger single mother. You really don’t know how she did it, maintaining multiple relationships at once without them figuring each other out. But, everything changed when she met Jin. Taehyun’s father.

Neither of you liked to say it was your fault they ended up together, but ultimately it was your fault that they ended up together. An elementary school incident that had both of your parents meeting in front of the teachers desk at the end of a long winter's day.

Taehyun had been pulling on your pigtails, and you didn’t like it very much, so you took it upon yourself to push him to the floor. When he fell he knocked over one of the toy bins, and stuffed animals poured out on the floor everywhere, and Taehyun saw an opportunity. He picked one up and threw it at you. Thus beginning a stuffy fight with every first grader in the class.

It took two years for them to start dating, it wasn’t official until you were in third grade and you hadn’t spoken to Taehyun in a while because you had girl friends at that point, and boys had cooties, and besides, Taehyun would always be the boy who used to pull your hair.

Joy and Jin kept a lot of things separate for a while, they didn’t let you or Taehyun see them together, interact, or just simply know if they were going out together. It was some well kept secret, one that was hidden out of sight for about a year and half, until the summer of sixth grade when they decided to buy a house and move everybody in together. Taehyun wasn’t happy. At first, neither of you were. You adjusted a lot faster, loving the big, brand new room where you’d have complete interior design control, and long halls, stretchy walls, and echoey ceilings. A touch of Joy's materialism may have rubbed off on you at some point.

The boy who now lived across the hall from you struggled for almost a year. Joy had found her perfect match, because Jin had no idea. Taehyun would spend too much time in his room blasting loud music, and shortly after living together you found out that he knew how to sneak in and out of his bedroom window, shimmying down a tree that hugged the back edge of the house. Eventually you would learn how to do that, too. And it was painful. But, it was entirely too much fun. You figured out quickly how to get friends into your rooms from that tree.

Joy was half right when she told you she didn’t neglect you, but that didn’t mean she was winning Mother Of The Year. When she held your kids and cuddled them, and kissed their noses, and gave them treats, her intentions were genuine. It healed some part of you deep down inside, while it simultaneously crushed your heart into a trillion pieces. They were getting a side of her you didn’t get.

The moment you found out you were pregnant in the upstairs bathroom of this house, not even knowing it was twins, you vowed to be the mother to them you never had. You would give your kids a beautiful life, one where they’d never have to question whether or not their parents loved them.

That’s also part of the reason why you married Soobin. He was a good man, he always has been, and he’s proven that he’s an even better father. Soobin became your peace amongst the chaos, your rock. At home, when it’s just the six of you, you’re calm, level headed, and able to think clearly thanks to your husband's guidance that took years for you to adapt to. When you’re here, at home, back in a life you were hardwired to always live, things got a little blurry.

“Do I hear Jin?” Joy glanced to the arched doorway of the kitchen, narrowing her eyes like it would help her hear better. On the opposite side of the house, away from the garage, one would think it’d be impossible to hear the doors open, but like the footsteps around the house, you were conditioned and your ears were trained to hear that sound from a mile away.

“Yeah, he’s back,” you said. Soobin laced his brows together, looking up at you. He didn’t have ears in this house like you. “I’ll go help him.”

Your husband started to stand up, gracefully sliding your daughter into your arms. “She’s about to knock out, I’ll go help him.” Wrapping your arms around Mina, the two year old buried herself in your chest, her arms clinging to the fabric of your sweater. “Baby girl needs her mom,” Soobin whispered, his lips perking up into a small smile. “I’ll have the boys come down too.”

“He’s so good with them, isn’t he, Soobin?” Joy spoke up. Your husband turned to flash your mother a grin. “Taehyun? So good with kids.” “Somebody’s got to be the fun guy, right?” Soobin half laughed, then looked at you with his lips completely flat.

“I talked to him,” you said under your breath, and Soobins eyes narrowed. “Before he took the boys upstairs, we spoke.” Peeking behind him finding Joy invested in Wonwoo, Soobin faced you completely and kissed your cheek.

“It’s going to be okay,” he mumbled, though it sounded more like a question.

Nodding fast, you smiled. “It’s gonna be okay.”

With a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, Soobin left the kitchen, leaving you with your mother and your babies. Taking the seat your husband was just in, you adjusted Mina so she was comfy, and kissed the top of her head. Her forehead was warm and her cheeks were rosy.

“Mom, you have any Tylenol…” Your voice faded as you looked up, finding her staring at you with a studious look. She was focused, eyes pointed at you with an intent you couldn’t seem to read. “What now?”

Joy shook her head, dangly earrings bouncing below her ears. “Just thinking.”

“Uh oh,” you said, and she scoffed. “I’m kidding,” you dipped your chin to apologize, “What’re you thinking about?”

Joy teetered her head side to side, glancing about her thirty thousand dollar kitchen. “I dunno, I’m just so happy to have you and Taehyun here, and your families.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you started to frown, and a nervousness settled into your chest, much like how it would when you were a kid and your mother put on her serious face. It was just you and her in the kitchen, there wasn’t a stray Taehyun around to save you.

“No, I am, truly,” she said. “When you both said you’d be here I couldn’t wait to have you both under one roof again, for an entire weekend. You’re both adults, you both are so busy, we haven’t gotten to be a family in a long, long time.” Joy copied your frown, averting her gaze to the table in front of her, then to your baby in her arms. “If I think about it for too long… I wonder if we’ve ever… been a family.”

“Mom,” you sang. She looked up to you and shrugged. “We’ve been a family for such a long time, you know that right? Taehyun and I were twelve when we moved here, that’s… that’s like, holy shit, that’s like twenty years.”

“Twenty years of what?” Joy asked, purely genuine. Her eyes begged yours for help. The nervousness in your chest spread to your stomach, filling your entire being with unease.

“What are you getting at, Joy?” you almost snapped.

Your mother’s bottom lip crinkled. “You didn’t know he was divorced, you haven’t spoken in two years, what kind of mother have I been? A mother should know this about her kids.”

“Technically he’s not yours,” you joked, hoping she would laugh. She did not.

“He has been for ten years through the law.”

“Yeah, but even then, we were, what? Twenty-two when you and Jin officially got married?”

Joy pressed her lips together, firm. “What do you have against us being a family?” Her voice was quiet, incredibly hushed that not even the baby’s stirred, but her tone was packed full of venom. Eyes going wide, you sat back in the chair and took a shallow breath. For a minute she stared at you. Then, she shook her head and looked down at Wonwoo who dozed off. “Why didn’t you two speak for so long?”

Rolling your eyes you held Mina closer and sighed. You’ve relived the fight you and Taehyun had at his daughter's tenth birthday party so many times, most times with Soobin when it became unbearable to stay in your head. Neither one of your parents cared, until now it seemed, but that’s how it went. Selective parenting, like she was playing make believe.

“I told him…” You weren’t sure how to begin. It might be a whole lot better if you just ripped off the bandaid. “I told him to divorce her.”

Joy's expression went unchanged. “Why would you… How could you even say those words?”

“Mom, do you remember how he used to be? Sure, he looks fantastic now, but two, three years ago? He was miserable!” Your volume had raised, Mina shifted on your lap.

“They were a family.” “She was using him for his money, Mom, come on,” you spat back, feeling your veins fill with fire. “You and this preconceived idea of family. We could all see what she was doing to him, I’m shocked she didn’t force five more fuckin’ kids out of him.”

“He loves those kids.”

Your eyes were ready to roll out of your head, the amount of times they’ve spun already. “Of course he does, he’s a great father. He could have a billion of them and he’d love them all the same. That doesn’t mean he was happy with Sana, though.” Joy’s glare had softened at some point. “I was the only one who cared enough to speak up, to help him realize, wake him up! And it made him hate me.”

Joy nodded, pursing her lips. “Is that the only reason?”

“Yes, Joy, it is,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on hers. Not letting her see through the half lie you forced past your lips.

“Okay,” she said. “But, you guys talked it out.”

“Somewhat.”

A small nod was all she could give you before two bodies strolled into the kitchen, all carrying shopping bags.

“We’re back!” An enthusiastic, young, happy voice filled the air. Turning to the commotion, you gave the young boy who looked back at you a huge smile. Dark hair and round brown eyes, Minho was the spitting image of his father. His smile was a bit like his mothers, smaller and poutier, but the rest of him was straight Taehyun.

Dressing like him too, the eight year old wore black ripped jeans and an oversized grey hoodie with a band you used to know on the front. Converse high tops were laced on his feet and a black beanie covered his head. He looked at you from beneath his bangs that almost covered his eyes. He and Taehyun both needed haircuts.

“Hi, Minho,” you said softly.

The boy gave you a small wave. “Hi. Is that Mina?” He pointed to the baby on your lap, and you frowned.

“It is,” you said. “She’s not feeling good.”

“Don’t let her near me,” a shrill, higher pitched voice said from behind the kitchen island. Shifting your eyes over to the twelve year old in wedged chelsea boots, you flashed her your best smile.

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” you breathed. “It’s just a little cold.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she sneered, walking over to Joy, letting you get a glimpse of what she was wearing for the day. You wanted to gasp in disbelief. “Mom’s taking me to New York City when we leave here, I cannot get sick.”

The twelve year old wore an emerald green silk dress that wrapped around her neck and covered her left arm, leaving the right one exposed to the winter air. The dress stopped above her knees. On her legs she wore shimmering black stockings that went into her, you guessed it right, three inch high black boots that lived at her ankle. Silver bracelets jingled on her right wrist, and diamonds were in her ears. She flashed them to you whenever she swung her shoulder length black hair back and forth.

Rosie leaned against Joy, who wrapped her arm around her back, and looked down at Wonwoo. “Who’s baby?”

Joy laughed, but you wanted to scream.

“Your aunt’s, silly,” Joy said to her. “They had another baby, her and Soobin.”

Rosie was unimpressed. “Do you guys ever stop doing it?” She looked at you with her nose turned up. You could’ve choked on air at her words. If Soobin were in the room he’d be throwing a fit. Joy, no surprise, laughed at her granddaughter.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Minho asked, stepping closer to you curiously. He went from watching Mina, to watching you, to looking for Wonwoo. Giving him your full attention, turning away from the Sana clone at the other end of the table, you smiled.

“A boy, his name is Wonwoo,” you said. Minho shared your smile and nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Weird name,” Rosie muttered. “Where’s my dad?”

“Upstairs with Chan and Sunoo, your Uncle Soobin just went looking for them,” Joy said. “Why don’t you go find them and tell them we’re starting dinner.” Rosie groaned, tipping her head backward, and strutted off, boots clacking on the floor with every step.

“I don’t wanna cook. Mom doesn’t make me cook,” her voice faded away as she entered the hall.

Shooting your mother a look she didn’t share with you, you said, “She’s… something.”

“She’s adjusting.” Joy’s whisper was a tad harsh, nicking your skin with a bite.

“Did Mina have to take medicine?” Minho asked, the sweet boy thankfully taking your attention. “My dad makes me drink this gross stuff when I have a cold.” The boy climbed into the chair next to you and watched his sleeping cousin.

“She didn’t yet, I wasn’t sure she’d need any, but now I’m thinking that she does. What gross stuff does he make you drink?” Crinkling your nose, you made him giggle.

“It’s orange, and it says it tastes like honey, but I don’t think it does,” Minho made a face and shook his head. “He calls it-”

“Bee Juice,” you said.

“Yeah!” Minho’s face lit up. “How did you know that?”

“We used to drink that when we were sick,” you said, your smile growing as you watched him settle in to listen to your story. “This one time, we were around Rosies’ age, I was really sick, and I refused to take any kind of medicine to help me feel better. Your dad tried to help me, and he was making all these funny jokes about it. There’s bees on the bottle right?” Minho nodded. “He called it Bee Juice, and for some reason that made me take it, and it made it taste good.”

“That’s funny,” Minho said. “Mina needs Bee Juice. I know my dad has some, he brought it with him.”

Your smile faltered. “He did?”

“Yeah, he says he keeps it just in case. Do you want me to tell him Mina needs it?”

“No, Minho, that’s okay,” you said. “I can ask him later.”

“Ask him now,” Joy said, gesturing to the doorway.

The kitchen filled with shouts, laughter and life. Taehyun barreled through the doorway with Sunoo on his back and three shopping bags in his hands. Chan hurried beside him, holding a quarter gallon of milk in his hands.

“We’ve got it,” Sunoo announced to the room, acquiring a round of laughter. “No one worry.”

Soobin trailed behind him, chatting with Jin who had Rosie attached to his side. Both adults had bags in their hands as well, lifting them onto the island Taehyun sat Sunoo on. Deep in conversation, probably something about work, Jin still made a move to hug you tight as best as he could without disturbing Mina, then went back to Soobin, helping him unload some of the plastic bags.

Rosie wandered to the table with her nose now in a cell phone that had a clear hot pink case with a polaroid photo shoved in the back of some celebrity she probably loved. Her glossed lips were pulled into a frown as she tapped away at the screen furiously.

After sliding the milk onto the counter carefully, Chan came to your side and peeked over your arm to check on his sister. “She is asleep?”

“She is,” you said softly. “Were you worried about her?”

Chan nodded. “She will be okay for Santa, right?”

“Santa!?” Rosie roared from her seat.

You shut her down quickly with a glare, not caring if Sana heard about it, then turned to your son. “She’ll be okay, love, I promise.”

“Okay, mom,” Chan said.

“Did you see Minho? Did you say hi?”

Chan looked to his right and smiled something small, feeling shy beside an unfamiliar face. The last time they saw each other Minho was six, and the twins were three. Minho probably remembered them, but your boys were just becoming aware of their own arms at the time, you weren’t sure they’d remember.

“Are you Chan or Sunoo?” Minho asked, looking between the twin in front of him and the twin crawling on top of the counter in front of his own father.

Chan almost gasped and put his hands on his hips. A smirk found your lips. Drama queen incoming. “I am Chan,” the five year old said loud and clear. “That is Sunoo,” he pointed to his brother. “You can tell us a part, my favorite color is blue, and Sunoo’s favorite color is red.”

Minho laughed, looking to you for a second. “You guys look exactly alike.”

“We are twins!” Chan exclaimed, tossing his arms out to the side. “This is my sister Mina, and that is my brother Wonwoo, he is new.”

“That’s my sister, Rose,” Minho nodded to his sister who didn’t bother to look up. “We call her Rosie.”

“Rosie,” Chan whispered as if he was mentally logging her name.

“She’s mean,” Minho admitted, and Chan gasped. You held yours back, waiting for him to say more.

“Why is she mean?” Chan’s eyebrows dropped low.

Minho shrugged. “She just is. Don’t talk to her.”

Leaning toward the two boys, you whispered, “I second that. Don’t talk to her.” Chan smiled, and Minho laughed, seeming surprised. Winking at him, he tried to give one back, the two of you solidifying some sort of alliance in this moment, though your aversion stemmed from your resentment for Sana.

“Minnie!” Taehyun shouted, rounding the kitchen counters to hurry over to his son. Throwing his arms around the boy's shoulders, he squeezed him tight and shook his side to side, pressing kisses to his cheek. His boy laughed, trying to shy away from him, but it was clear that he loved it. “Were you good for your grandpa?”

“Yeah,” Minho said, looking up at Taehyun.

“‘Course you were,” he grinned, then glanced to his daughter. “Rosie?”

“Hm?” She didn’t take her eyes off her phone screen. Taehyun didn’t lose his smile. He didn’t have to for you to see the disappointment within him.

“Were you good for Grandpa Jin?” he asked her.

Rosie glared at her father, holding eye contact for a few seconds. She didn’t say a word, and she didn’t need to. When she focused back down on her phone, Minho, still in Taehyun’s arms, looked at you.

“See? Mean,” he said.

Taehyun clicked his tongue. “Don’t talk about your sister like that. One day she could be all you have.” Your cheeks flushed as he glanced to you. Pressing a kiss to his son's head, he stood up and attended to your son calling his name from the kitchen counter.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” His silvery hair bounced as he rushed. Gathering Sunoo in his arms he twirled once and set him on the ground. Your five year olds giggle sounded through the kitchen, standing out amongst the other chatter.

Joy had left her seat, and Wonwoo was in Soobin’s arms now, still snoozing. This ambiance was the same as the one from home, that little boy could sleep through it all. Your husband rocked the baby while he bounced his knees, still deep in conversation with Jin. Those two have gotten along since the very first day Soobin showed up at the front door.

Putting away groceries, Joy had acquired Taehyun’s help, who had recruited Sunoo. The little one puttered around and did his absolute best to follow directions. Chan was asking Minho questions, ones you couldn’t make out over the noise, and Rosie was unbothered, tapping away at her phone.

On your lap Mina moved, her rosy cheeks looking up to find you. A soft, “Mama,” escaped her, and you both pouted.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” you whispered, kissing her head gently. “We brought you here when you don’t feel well, that’s so unfair.” Across the kitchen you caught Soobin’s eye, your husband leaning against the counter. When you met his gaze he gave you a sympathetic smile. Pushing your chair back, you let Chan know where you were going as he turned to look at you, and laughed as he climbed into the vacant chair at lightning speed. Minho grabbed the bottom of it and pulled it closer to him, the two chatting away.

“Those two were fast friends,” Soobin said when you reached his side, nodding at your son and his cousin. Jin joined Joy, Taehyun and Sunoo in the unloading of the groceries and the prep for dinner. Looking back at the kids, Minho had his phone out now and was showing Chan something that had him giggling. “Should I go see what they’re looking at?”

“No,” you said a little too fast for Soobin’s liking. Flashing him a soft gaze, you smiled. “They both tell us everything, you know that. Besides, Chan’s a rule follower. I guarantee you he’ll have parental locks on both those kids’ phones by the end of this weekend.”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “Our kids aren’t getting phones till they're thirty.”

“Agreed,” you said. “I find it a little crazy Minho has one at eight.”

Soobin hummed, then said, “I mean it makes sense.”

“How?” you scoffed.

“Their parents are divorced,” he nearly mumbled, shooting you a look.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second. “Right. Joy was just blaming me for ruining their lives, how could I forget.”

Though your sarcasm was evident, Soobin’s eyes went wild. “What are you talking about?”

“Rosie’s attitude, toward everyone apparently,” you began, scanning the kitchen. “I’m sure somethings going on with Minho, Taehyun may not be as well as I thought he was, and it’s all my fault, all of it. I told her what I said to him.”

Something of a groan came from Soobins chest. “None of it is your fault, don’t let her do that to you.” His hardened, protective glare was coming out. It made you smile. “He made his choice, he did that to his family. And as for Rosie?” He widened his eyes. “Full blame is on Sana. I feel like she’s here.”

“Hang on! I left it upstairs, gimme a minute, I’ll be right back,” Taehyuns voice echoed to his family as he rushed by you and Soobin into the hall.

Watching him fly by, you turned to Soobin and said, “Minho told me Taehyun’s got cough medicine.”

“Oh?” Soobin raised a brow.

“Mhm,” you gritted your teeth and widened your eyes. “I’m gonna go see if Mina can take it, and try to find out why he has it.”

Soobin took a breath, appearing like he wanted to tell you not to do it. “For Mina.”

“Yes, for Mina,” you repeated. Your husband tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slowly. “Soobin,” your tone was flat.

“I’ll have a drink ready for you when you come back, what do you want?” he asked, expertly switching the subject.

A small smile popped onto your lips, one Soobin returned. “Just a glass of water, please.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Down the hall and up the stairs you used to run up and down as a teenager, you stared at the stretch of a corridor that had two doors on either side, two bedrooms, and a pushed back bathroom to your right on the other side of the railing. Many, many, many feet across from you was the other staircase that wound down to the first floor near the kitchen. They opened up to the living room where a fireplace and the giant TV lived, right by a little hallway that took you to a sliding glass door and spacious backyard.

The floor was wooden, like the stairs. A deep, chestnut color that matched every door in this place. There wasn’t a single window in the hall, but there was a long one in the bathroom next to the shower, and both bedrooms had three. Your bedroom was to the left. Taehyuns was to the right. Outside of your door sat most of your bags from downstairs, all of them brought up for you. Taking your time toward them in the quiet air, you let your gaze fawn over every mark on the wall, every scuff, every memory that was crammed into every inch of this second floor. It was a lot cleaner now that no one occupied this space.

Jin and Joy’s bedroom was on the first floor, they rarely had a reason to come up here.

The door to the bathroom was cracked open, the tile on the floor lit up by the sun peeking through the window curtain, illuminating the shadows of a past you seemed to be longing for.

Adjusting Mina on your front, you cradled her head and sighed. This little one was a reminder that your life had turned for the better, that the past was in the past, and that it was something you needed to leave behind, though here in this quiet hall it seemed impossible. You used to laugh until your stomach hurt, the sleepless nights up here were endless. Sneaking your friends in through Taehyun’s window, hiding bottles of drinks you shouldn’t have underneath your bed so your parents wouldn’t find them, getting so stupidly under the influence that led to hookups, and more hookups.

You were young, you were stupid, you were having fun. You weren’t knee deep in diapers, playing peek-a-boo, or worried about bills. Life was exciting, and you were as light as a feather, letting life take you where it wanted to, which most times was through the door Taehyun stepped out of now. Startling each other, you gasped, then let out a soft laugh. He had a phone in his hand and a small smile on his face.

“I didn’t even hear you come up here,” he said, taking a step toward you.

“Guess I still know how to be sneaky,” you smirked. He was enamored by it for all of two seconds, then his smile dropped as he cleared his throat. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” he nodded, then attempted another smile. It was quiet for a moment before he said, “Strange up here now.”

“Definitely,” you sighed. Taehyun peeked at his phone that vibrated twice, then looked back up at you.

“I, uh, brought up your stuff,” he gestured to your bags, “You have a lot of shit.” You both laughed.

“I have four kids,” you raised your eyebrows. “My shit has a lot of shit.”

Taehyun flashed his grin. You ignored the cartwheel in your stomach. “Congratulations, by the way,” he said. “He’s beautiful. Wonwoo.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, proud. “He was a perfect little surprise.”

“Joy told me,” he said, nodding his head.

Your eyes narrowed. “When?”

“This past summer,” his volume dropped. “We celebrated Rosie’s birthday here.”

Your heart sunk to your knees. Shaking your head, you held back a sigh. “We were here this summer, right before Wonwoo was born, I knew nothing about it.”

Taehyun shrugged. “Yeah, well…”

“You have to go past me to come here,” you said, adjusting Mina on your front once more. “Jin or Joy didn’t even tell us?!”

“I told them not to,” he admitted.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you straighten out your back and tighten your jaw.

“Are you really surprised?” Taehyun asked. “We hadn’t seen each other in forever.” He took two more steps toward you, shoving his phone in his back pocket. “The last time we spoke, you were yelling in my face.”

“I distinctly remember you yelling in my face,” you said just above a whisper, taking a step toward him. The anger you used to feel when this topic came up bubbled to the surface, simmering beneath your skin. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“You always want to talk to me,” he said. The two of you had a foot of space between you now, and you could tell you shared the rage you were feeling inside. “It took me a while to realize that you don’t know this, but when people break up they don’t do this.”

Jaw clenched, eyes as wide as the moon, you shook your head. “Do what.”

Taehyun tipped his head back and huffed a laugh, looking elsewhere for a second. “This. Talk to each other, stay involved, unless…”

“Unless what?” your voice trembled, a mere whisper.

Darting his tongue out between his lips, he swallowed hard, and muttered, “Unless they still love each other.”

“That bullshit doesn’t apply here,” you said quickly, and quietly. “This is different, we are different.”

Taehyun lowered his chin. “We are fucked up.”

Taking a long, deep breath, you took a step away from him and spun in a slow circle, collecting your thoughts and your composure. “Friends, we said we can be friends.” Facing him, his eyes were solemn.

“Yeah, and be honest with me now that shock of seeing each other is gone,” he said. “You really think we can do that?”

A piece of you needed to make it work. Standing up here in this hallway now with him, coming to the full realization that he used to be the only stable thing in your life, you needed to make it work. He was your best friend, your other half, your partner in crime. Home, he was home.

“I said it downstairs, we can work for it,” you said. “I want you in my life, Taehyun. I need you in my life. We’re… family. I want my kids to know you, I want our kids to grow up together. Life feels right when we’re in a good place, when there isn’t so much space between us.”

“And what happens when that space gets too small?” Taehyun was a rock, eyes locked on yours as you spoke.

“It won’t,” you exhaled heavily, letting your knees give a bit. “We can-”

“It will,” Taehyun cut you off, closing the space between you completely. “It always does. It happened six years ago, it will happen again.” His tone was rough, but it didn’t correlate with the way he was gazing down at you. “Maybe you can pretend that we can try to be friends. But… I got a divorce ‘cause a girl I love helped me realize I was killing myself. And she was the only one who cared. For twenty years… you’re the only one who cared. You still are, and it hurts like hell.”

“Taehyun…”

“I told you I didn’t wanna go here,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Stupid of me to think that we could avoid it.” He stepped away from you, heading towards the staircase behind you. The loss of his warmth in front of you was disappointing. Turning around, cradling your daughter, you stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Bee Juice,” you said. He peered over his shoulder with one hand on the railing.

“What?”

“Bee Juice,” you nodded. “Mina’s sick, I didn’t bring anything with me. Do you think Joy has something?” Taehyuns eyes drew up and down your body, ending on the little one latched to your front.

“Um, I dunno,” he said. “I might? Minho was sick a little while ago when he was with Sana, lemme see if I brought anything with me.” When he walked by you he didn’t bother to look at you. Walking straight into his old bedroom, he left the door ajar. Unsure whether or not it was an invitation to follow him, you took a few timid steps into the doorway and felt every joint in your body tighten at the sight of his walls.

Posters, polaroid pictures and flags covered the dark grey paint, the artwork spilling onto the ceiling as well. His king sized bed was shoved into the far left corner, with what looked like a hundred pillows tossed onto the top. The comforter was still black, and fluffy. Your fingers can feel the softness without having to touch it.

A nightstand that once was messy and littered with life, was clean and housed a stack of three books he’d read religiously throughout the year, every year, and a lamp without a shade. There was a drawer on it that was all banged up, and you wondered if it was still full of things it shouldn’t be full of. Plenty of late nights were spent rummaging through the drawer in the dark, the light of the moon guiding you both through your bad decisions.

The dressers on the opposite wall were the same, and the walk in closet still had mirrors for doors. It was as if the years had been preserved, and this was a time capsule of beautiful mistakes you were sentenced for life to remember.

Taehyun rummaged through a suitcase at the end of his bed. He side eyed you as you walked in the door. You didn’t dare take a step closer to him or offer him help, because low and behold, he found what he was looking for, and more. As he pulled the orange bottle of Dayquil out of his bag, a small, round black bottle, one that photographers used for film, rolled out onto the floor and rattled loud. You both looked at it, then you looked at him before he grew the balls to look up too.

“Taehyun.”

“I don’t take them,” he muttered, looking up with only his eyes. “It’s been years, I swear. Even this,” he held up the bottle of cough medicine, “Nothing.”

Bee Juice was two words you weren’t expecting to hear this weekend. They were two words you hadn’t heard in a long, long time. In fact, the last time you even said them was probably in here in his room, with two other friends who’d join in on figuring out how much of the shit you can drink before you make yourselves sick. It was the type of high you’d never want to experience ever again. Just the thought of it turned your stomach. Taehyun was the only one to stick with it out of the four of you, the rest of you turned to other things, other drugs, or simply drinking, but he’d put that garbage in anything and everything.

Knowing he had the bottle on him made you nervous. Throughout his marriage you knew he wasn’t completely sober, he’d never grown out of that part of his life, he’d use it to cope. With how his marriage began, he was a child having a child, he became incredibly dependent on both bottles that came out of his bag.

“Why do you have it all with you?” you asked softly, hoping he’d talk it out.

Picking the bottle of pills off the floor he tossed them back into his suitcase and rubbed his forehead, his nervous eyes glancing to you a couple of times. “I don’t… I can’t explain it.”

“Try,” you said, taking a step toward him.

“I guess I just… I feel better, knowing it’s here, yanno?” Raking a hand through his hair exposing his forehead, he shrugged. “I don’t take any of it, but it’s here.” He faced you. “I’ve been sober for over a year, since I decided to leave her. I haven’t taken anything, I haven’t had a drink, I haven’t smoked anything.”

“I’m sober too,” you nodded, and watched as relief flooded his being. “It would be… six years.” Taehyun furrowed his brow. “But, it’s two, almost three.”

After a gulp Taehyun asked, “Don’t tell me… After we…”

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’ and shot him a sarcastic smile. “It was just a… bottle, maybe.” Taehyun shook his head. “And, yanno, the more I think about it, it should really be nine years, but…”

“Six years ago we were getting fucked up at Beomgyu’s,” he said. One of the old friends you shared. He was at Rosie’s tenth birthday two years ago, but you hadn’t seen him since. The other friend was Yeonjun. He’s been off the grid since you were twenty-one. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He shrugged again. “All of that was my fault.”

Scoffing, you walked further into his bedroom. “Taehyun, it was my choice to do it. You didn’t put the drugs in me.”

“Sometimes I did.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “‘Cause I told you to.” Approaching his side slowly, you took the bottle from him and retreated a couple steps. “I’m gonna believe you, but only because you look good, Tae.”

“Thanks, Baby,” he whispered with a smirk.

“If Soobin hears you say that he’ll lose his mind,” you warned.

Throwing his hands out to the side, Taehyun audibly expressed his frustration. “That’s been your name since we were fifteen!”

“Yeah, when we started sleeping in the same bed,” you widened your eyes. Holding up the bottle, you thanked him and sulked into the hall, pausing to process… all of that.

You could hear him zipping up the suitcase, putting it back where he’d found it. Walking across the hall, wanting to avoid him when he left his bedroom, you open your door and quickly shut it behind you, propping yourself up against the wood with a breath. Bare, sage green walls glared at you from all angles. In the center of the room underneath one of the three windows was your bed, also king sized, with four different knitted blankets thrown on top joined by matching pillows. The mattress wasn’t nearly as crowded as Taehyun’s.

Two redwood nightstands were on either side of the bed, both empty. The two dressers on the opposite wall were empty as well, except for the picture frames sitting on top. Three photos. One of you, Taehyun, Yeonjun and Beomgyu at a park across town at some ungodly hour of the morning. The second was you and Taehyun, seventeen years old, with your cheeks squeezed together and your eyes crossed with your lips squished all silly. The third was you and your mother when you were just five years old, the same age as your boys. They may have learned to copy Soobins pout, but those boys were all you, and this photo was proof.

Your room was eerie compared to Taehyun’s, his for some reason had life, while yours was completely still and quiet. Laying Mina down on your bed where you used to sleep, you kiss her cheek and kneel down on the floor beside her, putting the Dayquil on the nightstand. Your two year old lifted her head and whined, holding out her arms for you.

“I’m gonna help you, Meens,” you whispered, unscrewing the top of the bottle. The smell smacked you in the face, almost making you gag. Gripping the bottle with one hand, you went to pour a little bit into the lid, but froze as the alarms went off in your brain. “What the hell,” you sighed, turning the bottle around to read it. “I can’t give you this. What am I doing?”

Mina found her thumb, shoving it in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

Bringing the bottle to your nose, your eyes watered, and a chill ran down your spine. For a brief second you’re reminded of what it was like… How it used to be. How you’d walk by your parents totally fried, and they’d have no idea. The euphoria was so intense some nights all you could do was lay on Taehyun’s floor with your head in his lap while he and your friends listened to music you could barely make out.

You can feel his fingers running through your hair as your eyes shut, body vibrating at a frequency unknown to most, leaving you with nothing to do then hold onto him for some sort of stability. If you started to come down, when the rest of them were ready for more, you’d let Taehyun hold beneath your chin, coercing your lips apart to give you more to drink, sometimes from between his own lips.

Enchanted by the scent, lost in the memories, you didn’t even hear the bedroom door creak open.

“Babe?” Soobins voice bounced off the judgey walls. Jumping a mile, you whipped yourself around and fell onto your bottom on the floor. With half a smile on his face, you found your husband standing in the doorway holding up a box of children's Tylenol in his hand.

Catching a glimpse of the Dayquil, he took a breath and shut the door behind him, joining you at your side on the floor, tucking his long legs under him. Capping the bottle, you immediately handed it to him.

“Did you give her any of this?” he asked, making sure you were keeping your eyes on him. His tone wasn’t derogatory, but it was strict.

“No, I was just reading the label,” you said. “She can’t have it.”

Soobins nod was slow, and careful. “You know she can’t have this,” he said. “I realized what you had said after you walked away, that’s why I searched for this.” He gave the box a shake. “Jin found it in the back of their medicine cabinet.”

“Good,” you said, taking the Tylenol from him, getting the box open, taking out the bottle and the syringe it came with. “Little Miss needs it.”

Soobin glanced from the bottle in his hand, then to you. “Did you, uh… You didn’t take any of this did you?” His voice was soft, not the slightest bit accusatory.

“No.” Taking out the appropriate amount of medicine for Mina, you avoided Soobins eyes and tended to your daughter. Maneuvering the little ones thumb out of her mouth, and the syringe into it, she screwed her face up and tried to cry. “Oh, it’s gross, I know.”

Soobin put his elbows on the bed and grabbed Mina’s feet, playing with them to distract her. “She’s going to sleep for forever,” he said, then smiled as his daughter noted his presence in the room. “Hi, sweetie, you’re doing so good.” Calm in seconds, Mina focused on her father and swallowed the medicine, throwing her thumb back in her mouth as soon as she was finished.

“See?” you sneered. “A brat for me, an angel for you.” Thrusting the bottle back in the box, you accidentally tossed it onto Soobins lap. “Our kids hate me.”

“First of all,” Soobin eyed you, laying the box on the bed after he picked it up reluctantly. “She’s sick. She’s going to be a brat, she doesn’t know how to act. Second of all, our kids don’t hate you.” Studying you, you could tell he couldn’t place whether or not your behavior was purely satirical.

“They don’t listen to me,” you whispered. “They listen to you. I’m there to give them what they need, but they look up to you. You can handle them no matter what decibel they’re at. I can’t.”

After a glance to Mina who had dozed off, Soobin reached for one of your hands. “Where is this coming from?”

A shrug of your shoulders wasn’t enough to appease him.

“Talk to me.” His voice dropped a couple octaves. Another shrug.

“I just…” Vaguely gesturing around your room, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. How were you supposed to tell your husband that the ghosts of your past plastered in these walls haunted you to your very core?

What were you supposed to tell him? That a piece of you was still yearning to live the life you thought you were supposed to live? That you loved the boy across the hall, but you were both destined to live confined to the chains your mother loved to call family. That if nine years ago, Taehyun hadn’t dropped a lit match on top of your relationship doused in kerosene, everything would be perfect.

“Listen,” Soobin started softly, as if he read your inner turmoil on your forehead. “I know this is hard. I know it’s a lot. You’re doing a great job, being here, dealing with them all. You and Taehyun, you’re speaking, that’s what we wanted.”

“Soob, we’ve said so much,” you whispered, feeling your eyes well up with tears. “And I feel like it hasn’t been enough.”

“Sweetie, I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.” Dragging his thumb over the back of your hand, Soobin bit his lip. “You guys have years, upon years, and a history so deep I don’t think you and I will ever share.”

“Don’t say that,” you cried, sniffling, crawling into his arms. Sitting in his lap, he wrapped his arms around your middle and placed his chin on your head. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, still somehow level headed as ever. “I knew exactly what I was getting into when I asked that sleepless, hungover girl out on a date. Walking home with Beomgyu? From…”

“Oh god,” you groaned. “His brother's house.”

“Mm,” Soobin hummed, the memory a happy one for him, clearly. “You were beautiful. I always thought you were. Smudged mascara and all.” He got you to laugh, and for him that was all he needed. “I knew who you were, I knew what you did, I knew who you did, even though everyone else thought it was just Beomgyu.”

You picked your head up, eyebrows as low as they could be. “That is not when you knew.”

Soobin wiped a finger under one of your eyes, fixing the smudged mascara he apparently loved so much. “That is when I knew,” he nodded, letting a finger drag over your lips. “You get this… look in your eye when you see him. Still do.”

“I love you.” His smile grew from your whisper.

“I know,” he crooned. “I love you, too. So much. And so do our kids.” Pausing to nibble his lip like he was, he bobbed his head and whispered, “Work through what you’ve got to work through this weekend, but don’t make me look like an idiot.”

“Again,” you added, sensing he wanted to tack the word on to the end of his lament.

Six years ago, amidst what you called your gap year with Soobin, when the two of you took a break to cool off, to see if this was what you both wanted for yourselves. Soobin wanted to get married. You didn’t feel quite ready yet. Soobin knew where your head was stuck, so he unofficially set you free to sort out your thoughts.

It wasn’t a break up, the two of you didn’t part ways completely, but part of you wishes you had so you could’ve avoided the heartbreak surrounding Soobin when you told him what you ran back to, and where you had been. That winter was fuzzy, one you couldn’t piece together if it weren’t for Soobin’s ingenious memory. A few months later you were engaged, and pregnant, and married a month or so after that. You understood Soobin’s heart and his love for you and your family, but deciding to marry you was one thing he did that you couldn’t understand why.

“I wasn’t even going that far,” Soobin smirked. “But, thanks for letting me know I don’t have to worry about that.”

“You don’t,” you said. “I just want us in a good, decent place where we won’t want to rip each other's heads off. We get under each other's skin too easily.”

Soobin took a deep breath and turned his attention to his sleeping daughter. Her hand had slipped out of her mouth and was laying on her belly, her lips parted with steady breaths.

“K-O,” he joked, kissing your forehead. “Shall we go make sure Wreck It Ralph and Fix It Felix are okay downstairs?”

A smile pricked your lips. “You talkin’ ‘bout our boys, or Joy and Jin?”

Dinner was ready by six. Taehyun’s kids set the table while your twins followed them around carrying the dishes for them, carefully. Joy had no issue handing your five year olds two stacks of her finest, pure white ceramic dishes with the silverware thrown on top.

Once you and Soobin rejoined the chaos, you found Taehyun had beaten you to the kitchen. While the family hustled around the tile, cooking, putting dishes together, pouring drinks, he didn’t spare you glance. He was attentive to his children and his nephews, getting his hands on Wonwoo once to pass him to Jin so Joy could assist Rosie with her cranberry juice in a wine glass. You and Soobin met eyes and held in a laugh. When Sunoo asked if he could have a fancy glass as well, Soobin placed the boy's metallic blue tumbler full of milk in his hands and told him to find his seat at the table.

A long stretch of pine by the windows on the back end of the kitchen, the table was decorated beautifully already, but with the added pizazz of the dishes, candles and steaming food, you had to admit that Joy outdid herself for another year in a row. The warmth from the oven radiated around the room, wrapping your family in a cozy haze, keeping you snug by the frosted glass of the wide paneled windows. The snow hadn’t let up yet, and the kids were giddy.

Jin took his place at the head of the table, Joy beside him and Rosie across from her. Minho hopped into the seat next to his sister, leaving a seat available for you where Sunoo refused to sit. Chan quickly swiped it from you, wanting to spend more time with his cousin, which meant you got to sit on the end, across from Taehyun.

Soobin found himself next to Joy, Sunoo wanting to sit between his father and his uncle. The grown men couldn’t refuse his offer. Noticing who you were across from, Soobin shot you a soft smile and a mere nod of his head. Truthfully, after four kids the two of you didn’t get to sit next to each other anymore anywhere. The highchair at the other end of the table next to you could attest to that. Mina, feeling a bit more up for food now that she’d taken the medicine, was already reaching for the steamed buttery carrots that sat in front of her.

“Good job everybody,” Joy beamed. “Eat, please, eat.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” Minho was smug, diving into one of the bowls nearby. Laughter rolled through the room, and everyone followed suit, filling their plates. It didn’t take long for ample chatter to fill the air, mostly the kids asking questions about Christmas and talking about school or the snow.

“But, I asked for a Playstation,” Minho said between bites, glancing at Chan. “Do you know what that is?” Your big eyed boy watched him in awe, shaking his head. “I’ll show you. I have almost every version, at least of the new ones. Some of them are so old.”

“You don’t have every version, Minnie,” Taehyun chuckled, sitting back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. At the other end of the table Rosie was chatting away with her grandparents, Soobin listening in without presenting his judgment on his face.

“Yes I do, Dad,” Minho’s eyebrows shot into the sky. “Heeseung found me a PS One on eBay! He bought it for me weeks ago, it’s so cool.” Plopping a small scoop of sweet potatoes onto Mina’s plate, you glance at Taehyun who rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. “Well, I had no idea.” Chan asked Minho about the Playstation, the two boys were excited and curious. Taehyun drug his glare over toward you and blew a raspberry on his lips. It made Mina giggle.

“Heeseung?” Raising your brow, you smiled when he leaned over to your girl and blew another one, making her laugh even harder.

Taehyun sat back, satisfied his audience was entertained. “Yeah, Heeseung,” he said under his breath. Arms still folded, he shrugged. “Sana’s boyfriend.”

If you had anything in your mouth you would’ve choked, and nearly did on air. “When did that happen?” Dropping your tone to a whisper, you tried your best to keep this conversation between the two of you, unsure of how aware Joy and Jin were of the situation.

“Well, let’s see,” his entire demeanor dropped, a glint of something heavy flashing in his eyes. “They worked together for a few years-” “Sana worked?”

Taehyun smirked. “Focus please.”

“Sorry,” you breathed a laugh, tending to your daughter who whined for her drink.

“They were working together, they both did that buying shit, yanno?” Taehyun started to talk with his hands, waving one around to piece the story together. You both ignored your boys as they informed him he used a bad word. “He was one of her closest work friends, he would be at our house from time to time to hang out, he came to all the kids birthday parties-”

“Oh my god, the stone faced babe with the nose,” you gasped, placing your chin in your hand.

Taehyun waited for you to finish. You felt your cheeks flush after realizing you had cut him off again.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” he smiled. “Yes, him.”

“I thought he was gay.” You both spoke at once, breaking into crass laughter that triggered the table to look your way.

Joy, chewing away behind a promising grin, with bright eyes said, “See? I knew you two would be fine.”

Jin, focused on his plate, frowned. “Were we not fine?” Looking down to the other end of the table, you and Taehyun sat up straight like you’d been caught. Taehyun’s father waited for an answer, shifting his gaze between his wife and his family. “What’d I miss?”

Soobin lowered his chin and leaned into Sunoo, whispering something to him about his dinner. The five year old pouted, waving away the meat on his plate. Pressing a kiss to his son's head, Soobin took it off his plate and put it on his own.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Taehyun brushed the matter off, picking up his fork to shovel food into his mouth, hoping that’d get you two out of the hot seat. Your mother snickered, using the cloth napkin that was at every setting to wipe the corners of her mouth.

“You two are funny,” she said. Soobins eyes flickered up toward you, then quickly shot back to his son. Rosie was leaning forward, her elbows on the table, enthralled with what was about to ensue. A drama lover, just like her mother. “My love,” Joy said, turning to her husband. “They weren’t speaking for two years. I had just found out today, when the Choi’s arrived.”

“The Choi’s,” you scoffed, shaking your head. Leave it to her to address your family like you were all foreign visitors. “Mom, we can let it go. It’s not a big deal.”

“The hell it isn’t!?” Joy dropped her fork.

“Bad word!” Chan and Sunoo looked to Soobin for help, but all he could do was shake his head and quiet them down.

“Joy, really,” Taehyun added weight to his words.

“Joy this, Mom that,” she appeared ready to leap out of her chair. “Look at us! All of us here. A family.”

You snuck a glance at Taehyun who had his eyes glued to Joy. He seemed like he was sinking backward into his chair, hoping it would crumble or somehow swallow him whole, anything to get him out of this room.

“This is how it should be. Always.” Joy whipped her head toward the two of you. “You’re both so far away, I’m grateful we were able to spend this weekend together, aren’t you?” Nods of everyone's heads was enough to encourage her to go on. “I miss this, I miss you both being here, running around upstairs. Hearing you laugh, hearing you talk to each other… It feels like it was.”

Jin reached for his wife’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “We feel whole having you all here.” He made it a point to look at each of you. With another glance to Taehyun you watched him roll his eyes.

“To find out about you not talking, not seeing each other… That hurt,” Joy wore the apparent pain on her face. It made you want to laugh. “You were best friends. Every waking moment was spent together, I can’t imagine anything that would break that up.”

Swapping a glance now, Taehyun finally looking at you, you shared a deep breath.

“What would they do together?” Rosie asked, chiming in to take the attention. Joy and Jin laughed.

“Oh, they’d do everything, Rosie,” Jin smiled. “They went everywhere together, they had the same friends. You know the cabinet full of movies we keep underneath the television?” The twelve year old nodded. “It’s theirs, they collected those together and would watch them all the time.”

“We would wake up some mornings and they’d be fast asleep on the couches together,” Joy smiled at Jin, then turned to her granddaughter. “They would spend weekends in the living room with their friends if they were too bored to stay upstairs.”

Jin laughed to himself, shooting a finger in the air. “I can remember getting up for work one morning, and there were four of them knocked out at the kitchen table. Back when we had the booth seat that wrapped around the circular table?”

“Yes!” Joy clapped her hands together, like the memory was near and dear to heart, like it didn’t have you cringing and wishing they’d both shut up. “I still have that picture! They had to be around nineteen,” Joy looked at Rosie, “Our house was clearly the cool house.”

Taehyun forced air through his lips and shook his head, and you’d agree if you weren’t paralyzed in place. Thankfully your boys were occupied between Soobin and Minho, not letting any of these memories sink in.

Our house was clearly the cool house.

You wanted to scream back in her face that her house was the house with little to no supervision, and that was why you and your friends would come here to get shitfaced again and again. Her cool house taught you how to mix drinks before you were of legal age, pummeling you headfirst into blurry years you can hardly put together. Their cool house and their happy memories of you two asleep in the living room after a night of movies you’d hardly watch, the two of them completely unaware that you and Taehyun would be-

“Oh!” Joy exclaimed, knocking you from your spiraling thoughts. Her earrings swung vigorously at her ears as she bounced around, excited.

“Oh!” Mina copied her. The room was buzzing with energy, Taehyun’s kids wound up from listening to these stories, and your children messing with the food on their plates. Soobin and Taehyun were stiff, as were you, pointed gazes beckoning Joy to shut the fuck up.

“Videos!” Joy cheered, slamming her hands onto the wood edge of the table. She looked up and down the table. “We have videos,” she said, pointing to you and Taehyun, “Of you two!” Turning to Jin she gripped his wrist and shook it around. “We’ll do that thing on the TV, connect your phone to it.” Taehyun shot you a look, brows slightly concerned. Joy’s body whirled back around. “How fun to show the kids! Oh, I’ve always wanted to be this kind of family during the holidays.”

Rosie beamed with Joy, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen. She truly was a beautiful little girl underneath her wanna-be old attitude. “They did this on Fuller House at Christmas.”

Joy's hands clapped together once more, her expression falling smug. “Oh my god,” she said, looking straight at you. “We’re gonna be a Full House family.”

Stomach churning, worried about what was in those videos that probably haven’t been looked at… ever, you sat back in your chair as Joy and Rosie fell into a discussion over the difference between Full House and Fuller House. Chan asked Minho about the band on his hoodie, and Soobin listened to Sunoo talk about Fuller House too, the five year old pretending as if he knew what that was.

Watching them all move on, even Taehyun who helped Minho out with the pronunciation of the band he wore, you crossed your arms and gulped. How developed were five year old brains? Were they about to witness footage of you in your early twenties that would permanently alter how they saw their mother? Would there be something within the videos that was supposed to stay hidden, or in the past? What would it do to Soobin, to watch you at your worst, his wife, the mother of his children?

Underneath the table something tapped your ankle. Glancing to Chan, who probably kicked you, you found the boy sitting on his feet, facing his cousin. Something tapped your ankle again, then two feet encased it, pulling it away from you. Shooting a look at Taehyun, he was focused on his son. No one was paying attention, so you took a peek.

It was Taehyun, his legs quickly wrapping around your own, his smile growing as you looked back up at him. His focus was on his son thankfully, he wouldn’t get to watch your eyes bug out of your head.

“They started in the eighties technically,” Taehyun said to the boys, shamelessly rubbing his legs on yours. “Grohl didn’t join until the nineties.”

“Who is Grohl?” Chan asked, eyes narrowed and focused. Taehyun shifted his legs, crossing one over the other, his foot nudging your thigh shamelessly. “Dave Grohl,” he smiled. “He played the drums for Nirvana. He had long hair down to here,” Taehyun gestured at the length below his shoulders, “And he was so cool.” His foot traveled further up your thigh, you fought away the chill that ran down your spine.

“Wait, he was on your wall upstairs,” Chan said.

“He sure is,” Taehyun nodded. “They all are.”

Chan leaned over the table, little elbows holding him up. “Uncle Taehyun, you're so cool, too. Like Grohl.”

Taehyun flashed his grin, looking at you for a few seconds. “Yeah, I am.”

“On those videos we’ll get to see how cool he really was, right Dad?” Minho was smiling, looking from his cousin to his father, who hadn’t stopped looking at you. His gaze shifted to something of slight concern, both of you knowing what the other was thinking.

Taehyun gave his son a slight shrug. “Maybe we will.” He shot Minho a smile, and when the two cousins started to eat and talk amongst one another, the smile fell and the grip he had around your leg loosened.

“I don’t wanna watch ‘em either,” you mumbled. Taehyun shook his head, a miniscule moment only for you to see before he sighed. And it wasn’t brought up again.

“Cell phones are for big kids.”

Chan wasn’t impressed. Tiny fingers pressing into the marble of the kitchen counter, dangling backward on his heels, the five year old whined and whined. Drying the last dish that Soobin handed to you over his shoulder, he shot a look to his son, one that whipped him into shape.

“You can play with Minho’s for now, okay?” Giving him a smile, you placed the dish in a cabinet and tossed the towel onto the counter by the sink. The little one murmured his agreement, hurrying off to follow the other kids' shouts.

Soobin, after folding the towel you threw, slid his arms around your shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck, one that sent a chill down your spine. Grabbing onto his hands you peered toward him and smirked.

“Let’s skip the movies,” you whispered in the empty kitchen.

Soobin’s grin widened. “Oh, no, I think I want to see this.” With a groan you spun around in his arms, his hands falling to your waist. Cupping his cheeks, you pouted.

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Darling, I know,” his tone was soft, gentle. “I already know what to expect. After everything, don’t you think if I had a problem I wouldn’t be standing here?”

Averting your gaze to the floor, you shrugged. “I just don’t know what’s gonna be on them, that’s all. I never really remember them having cameras around.”

Soobin took a finger to your chin, tipping it upward for him to kiss the tip of your nose. “It’s okay. Surely if it was anything too bad Jin or Joy wouldn’t show it. Or, they would’ve said something to you by now.”

“Joy’s been acting weirder than usual,” you said, dragging your thumbs along your husband's cheeks. “She’s always inappropriate, and has no filter, but… I dunno. What if watching this stuff makes her realize her daughter was fucked up almost everyday of her life since, like, high school. What if they caught us doing the dr-”

Feet scurrying in the hall stole your attention, both you and Soobin turning to the doorway in record time.

“Who was that?” You breathed. Soobins grip tightened around your waist. Shooting him a look, a wide eyed, worried look, he returned an unknowing one back. “Shit,” you sighed.

“Bad word,” Soobin whispered. For a few seconds neither of you moved, and then it was all too funny, both of you breaking out into giggles that echoed in the empty air. “Let’s go find some seats, if the little’s didn't take them all. I’ll grab the baby, I’ll meet you there.”

Wonwoo, snug in his carseat, had been snoozing on and off throughout dinner. Soobin tucked his arm beneath the handle and hoisted the carrier up, following you into the living room through an archway that was halfway down the hall toward the opposite staircase.

Inside the glorious room with the giant screen, expensive sound system and cozy grey, velvety couches, the boys had all piled up on the loveseat, the twins on either side of Minho. All three of them had kicked off their shoes, the two pairs of dress shoes flung sporadically amongst Minho’s sneakers. Rosie was in the armchair that matched the other furniture, her legs crossed delicately while she tapped away at her phone screen.

A large couch lay between the loveseat and the chair, a couch you had spent many nights on. Out of all rooms to redecorate and change again and again, you really had hopes that Joy would’ve chosen this one. The deep bluish-grey of the walls that reflected the furniture had your stomach rolling. While warm and cozy to others, this room made your blood run cold.

A square glass coffee table was in the center of the room. A vase of Christmas flowers spilled out on top of it, and books and magazines circled the sparkling vase. Crystalized, glass coasters were strategically placed over the top, with matching glasses at the bar behind the sitting area. You didn’t even need to look, you could tell exactly where each bottle of liquor lived. It never changed. For twenty years, it’s been the same. You did glance toward it as you walked in the room, and Soobin took note.

Jin and Joy stood by the television, mumbling to one another, trying to figure out how to connect their phones to the screen. The point of Joy's heels dug into the plushness of the rug beneath her feet that extended throughout the room, all the way to the bar. On her tush, staring up at her grandparents working, sat Mina. She was barefoot as well, teetering around in her socks. When she caught wind you had walked into the room she whined and started to crawl toward you.

“No walkin’, huh?” Soobin laughed from behind you as you scooped her up into your arms. “Medicine must be wearing off,” you said, kissing her cheek. Weaving around the furniture you chose to sit on the edge of the couch, letting Soobin plop down beside you, setting Wonwoo on the floor next to his feet. The infant had just opened his eyes, blinking a few times at his father.

“Hey, Soobin,” Jin began, turning around. He didn’t look up from his phone. “Think you can help me figure this out? I thought I knew how…”

“Of course,” your husband smiled, on his feet in an instant.

Wonwoo’s face scrunched up like it would before he would cry, and sure enough, he started to cry. Mina expressed her shock on her face, looking at you, then her baby brother. “Baby cry,” she said, pointing toward him. Shifting Mina to the side, you sat her down on the couch cushion she was nearly swallowed up by, then reached forward for Wonwoo.

“Get him, Mama,” Mina said quietly. The two year old was always intrigued when it came to the baby. Curious as ever, her attentive eyes studied you as you carefully placed him in your hands and lifted him out of the carseat, kissing his cheek before cradling him in your arms.

“Shut it up,” Rosie groaned from somewhere in the room you didn’t care to acknowledge, but could feel the heat in Soobin’s eyes as he shot her a glare.

Mina leaned over your arms, holding onto your bicep with all of her might, watching you bounce Wonwoo to calm him down. Her pink cheeks and glassy eyes were full of adoration. “Shhh, baby. Shhh.” Wonwoo sucked in a deep breath, quieting down at the sound of his sister's voice.

“Good job, Meens,” you gasped, smiling at her. “Say it again, tell him he’s okay.”

A wail about to escape the infant was stolen by his sister's caring words. “S’okay, baby. Shhh.” As the crying came to an end, Mina gasped and looked to you for approval. Putting one of your arms around her, you tucked her into your side and kissed her head. “Best big sister,” you said.

“Boooring,” Rosie sang. Looking over at her, she was looking back at you. Her phone was on her lap, and her chin was in her hand. For a second she appeared as her mother, sharp eyes, pursed lips and pointed cheekbones. Since she was born it was hard to believe Taehyun had a part in her procreation. For years you had a quiet, delusional, but harmless joke that Sana made Rose herself to trap Taehyun with her. Anything to ease the pain from the night you found out about her. Milliseconds away from opening your mouth, unsure of what to say to the twelve year old you used to blame for ruining your life, her father hustling into the living room took the heat off of you.

“Did I miss it?” Breathless, he glanced about the room. Finding that nothing had even happened yet, he sighed and trudged his way across the carpet.

“Daddy!” Rosie shouted, throwing her arms into the air. Taehyun beamed, a light pouring out of his heart like it was the first time the child had ever said the word. It made you wonder how often she showed him love. This was the first time today you’ve seen her give him any sort of attention.

Taehyun, holding his own arms out, rushed for his daughter and caught her in his arms as she leapt out of the chair and fell into them. She squeezed him tight, pressing her cheek into his chest with her eyes shut. The smile on his face made your heart flutter. Holding his firstborn, his little girl, the one who stole his heart the second she was born… The only one he’d love more than any other girl who walked into his life. It made you smile, truly. When Taehyun was with his kids, he was happy. And whenever you witnessed moments like this, it healed something broken within yourself.

Sure, that little girl he held and sat down on his lap in the oversized armchair wrecked everything between you two twelve years ago. No, he didn’t care that it wrecked everything you and him once shared. But, he was happy. And you’d do anything, give up anything, to see him happy. Even if it meant watching him walk away after you begged him not go through with fathering the spawn of Satan.

“Here we go!” Jin cheered as the television flashed and the scene of two kitchen remodel’s ago popped up on the screen. The boys' necks snapped to the TV, excitement buzzing off of them as they bounced around to get even more comfortable. Chan had an arm wrapped around Minho’s. “Okay everybody! Thanks to my amazing son-in-law,” Soobin smirked and shook his head as he hurried to sit down beside you, Mina getting squished between your bodies, “We get to see some home movies.” The kids erupted in cheers. Well, the boy's couch did. Rosie just nibbled one of her nails.

“Oh, I am SO ready,” Joy shook her shoulders. “I’ll get the lights, everyone has a seat?” Your mother scrambled for a remote on top of the shelf below the television, clicking it toward the ceiling to shut off the lights built into the top of the room. “If we’re lucky maybe we’ll get to see some of you guys as babies!” She gestured to all the kids as she worked her way through the room to sit on the other side of Soobin, Jin joining her soon after with his phone in hand.

The boys whispered quiet things to one another, and Rosie said something to Taehyun. Soobin gave you a sideways smile, slipping an arm around your back, over your shoulders.

And the clips, shuffled throughout the years, began.

~ august 18th, 2010 ~

Windows open in the house, a refreshing summer breeze flowing through the white curtains that hung to the floor, everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The sun had set about an hour ago, leaving everything washed in a deep orange haze that would linger for another twenty minutes.

Dressed in soft checkered high waisted shorts with a white cropped tee on top, one that you stole from Taehyun and cut in half, your bare feet slammed on the wood of the second floor as you darted from your bedroom toward the stairs to the kitchen. Laughter flooded the air, coming out of you, straight from your heart. Gripping the railing, you’re seconds away from leaping down to the dual level landing, but skinny arms wrap around your waist, yanking you backward, lifting you in the air. Screeching, you curl your knees into your chest and accept defeat, throwing your head backward onto his shoulder.

“Lemme go!” Your cackles were meaningless, and he wouldn’t listen anyway. Stumbling backward into one of the walls you’re certain his elbow almost went through, he laughed and put you down on your feet, making sure you didn’t fall over. “Gyu is here!”

“I don-care,” Taehyun breathed, whirling you around in his arms to press you against the wall, caging you in with his hands planted on the drywall. His smile was wide, bright, and blurry. “How dare you leave m’like this.” Glancing down between the two of you, you followed his eyes and almost snorted, throwing your head back again, this time against the wall.

Heart pounding in your chest, skin ablaze with warmth, veins pumping, extremely intoxicated (both of you), you throw your arms around his shoulders and grip his neck, clawing with your nails, gently. Taehyun sucked a harsh breath between his teeth and let his forehead fall onto yours, his smile still evident on his glistening lips as your hands traveled down his body, over his t-shirt, slipping within the waistband of his sweats where he was bare, wearing nothing beneath them.

“Slut,” you muttered within the shared air, making both of you laugh.

“Mm, mhm, hang on,” he mumbled, sliding a hand beneath your shirt, purposely dragging his fingers lightly up your side to tickle you before he grabs a handful of one of your breasts, where you were bare, wearing nothing beneath the fabric. His smile fell into a smirk when he watched you gasp. “Slut,” he whispered, tone incredulously harsh.

“Stop, Gyu’s here,” you said within a deep breath, feeling your knees buckle.

Taehyun’s brows plummeted. “You know he don’t care. Once he takes what we got he’ll be on another planet, won’t even be able to tell if you’re on top or if he’s takin’ you from the back-”

“M-my moms here.” Your hushed tone and blushed cheeks had his ego blooming with utmost power, and you knew it too.

“Um,” he chuckled. “Never stopped us before, Baby.”

“You two up there?” Joy’s voice carried up the stairs, making the two of you leap a part, taking your hands back to yourselves. “Beomgyu is here!”

Taehyun looked you up and down, licked his lips and shook his head. “We’ll be right down!”

With a deep breath you glanced down to his sweats, where he was still hard, eager for you. Shooting him a quick wink, he groaned from his chest, letting out a laugh after you whispered, “Slut,” and hurried down the stairs.

Balancing once your feet hit the floor, you reared to the side and almost knocked into a wall full of pictures, but a pair of strong hands caught your shoulders before you went down. Looking up at the boy almost a foot taller than you, his shoulder length, shaggy dark hair made you grin. Skin pale and cheeks rosy, Beomgyu was stunning, and pure boy, from his smile to his lanky, defined build.

“Start without me?” he grumbled, smoothing out your hair. “Where’s the loser?”

“I can hear you!” Taehyun shouted from upstairs, getting a giggle out of you.

Beomgyu shot you a lazy smile and shook his head. “You guys are so stupid.”

“I’m hungry, actu-lly,” you whispered, leaning into him on your tiptoes, throwing your arms around his shoulders to hug him.

Beomgyu laughed, wrapping an arm around your back, pressing his hand into your bare skin. Turning around so he could guide you into the kitchen, from over your shoulder he spots Joy, at the counter messing with a new iPhone, holding it up toward the two of you.

Standing on the top of Beomgyu’s shoes, letting him waltz you around the kitchen, you hear your mother laugh and tip your head backward, noticing she was filming you and Beomgyu.

“Mommy!” you shouted into the air, laughing like crazy.

“Oh, you guys are so cute,” Joy smiled, laughing with you, making sure the camera was catching everything. “Where’s Taehyun? He finally let you two spend some time alone?”

Scrunching your face up in disgust, you stood up straight to face Beomgyu, finding him making the same exact face. Laughter corrupted you, going completely limp in his arms.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Taehyun appeared through the archway, his hair pushed back, his skin alive with what looked like a gleam of sweat. Rushing toward you and Beomgyu, Taehyun grabbed a fistful of his friend's hair and yanked his head back, clamping his teeth on the base of his neck, making the boy yelp. Watching Taehyun as he parted from him, the indentation left on his skin turned your stomach, made you want to drag your tongue over the marks.

“Gyu’s mine, Joy,” Taehyun teased, releasing him. He jabbed a finger into your side, laughing as you shrieked, then approached Joy, putting his face up in the camera. “How do I look? Good, probably.” He winked at the camera and laughed, looking up at Joy who giggled behind the phone.

Adjusting your arms around Beomgyu’s shoulders, you hike your legs up his side and wrap them around his waist, going full koala on his front. He let out a gasp and caught you, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” he whispered to you, still laughing, the camera catching none of his words.

“Um!” You half shouted, taking the attention. “What if Gyu is MINE!”

Meeting Taehyun’s eyes you could see the jealousy that immediately pooled within them. You knew he had to keep his cool in front of Joy, and her camera. Normally you wouldn’t be pulling stunts like this, but you were high. You were high and needy for him, you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“Uh oh, Taehyun, you’ve got competition,” Joy played right along, fueling the intoxicated fire.

“You have three seconds,” Taehyun said, his hardened glare hitting you right where you wanted it to. “One…” Laying your head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, you hummed and smiled, letting your eyes close.

“Two!”

Beomgyu bounced you in his arms, laughing, trying to get you to move, but you wouldn’t budge.

“What happens on three!” Joy was ecstatic, beaming behind her phone, her eyes darting between all three of you.

“Yeah, what happens on three,” you teased, shooting Taehyun the calmest smile you could possibly conjure.

“Wouldn’t you love to find out,” he gritted his teeth. “Three!”

A scream came out of you as Taehyun darted toward you and Beomgyu, his arms grabbing your waist, pulling you off of your friend. Beomgyu stumbled back, ready to catch you both if you fell over, his laughter bouncing through the air along with your own. Taehyun put you on your feet, spun you around, then crouched down and threw you over his shoulder.

“Tae!” Reaching your arms out to Beomgyu, you kicked your feet and almost kicked him in the face. “Gyu, help me,” you giggled.

Taehyun turned to him and shot him a wicked grin. “Let’s go.” Looking at Joy, and her camera, he winked again. “See ya, Joy.”

“Bye,” Joy smiled. “Good luck, Beomgyu.” The boy gave her his charming smile, and followed you and Taehyun upstairs, out of the sight of the camera, and your mother.

“What happened on three?” Minho inquired, looking out amongst the group as the video ended.

Unbelievable that was the first video to play. You can vaguely recall what had happened before you walked into the kitchen attached to Beomgyu, and you can barely put anything together as to what happened after.

You have no idea what happened on three. Taehyun had no idea what happened on three, you were sure of it. After he ran up the stairs with you hanging over his shoulder like a helpless ragdoll, you’re pretty sure the three of you drank until you passed out in your bed. Waking up, you can remember having an arm thrown over Beomgyu’s bare waist where he laid on his back with his arms over his head, upside down on the covers. Taehyun was the only one laying properly, fully clothed, his legs tangled with your own.

“How old were you guys?” Rosie asked, smiling at her father.

“Nineteen,” Taehyun said quietly, his focus on the TV.

Joy and Jin were swiping through the phone, too occupied to pay attention to anything anyone was saying.

“How did you pick up my mom like that?” Sunoo asked Taehyun, eyes wide. His uncle gave him a soft smile.

“I’m pretty strong,” he shrugged.

“Uncle Beomgyu was cute,” Rosie giggled, nibbling on one of her fingernails. Taehyun simply laughed and shook his head. The twelve year old turned to look at you, and you stiffened beneath her curious gaze. “You guys were dating?”

“No,” you answered fast. A little too fast. “He was one of my best friends, one of… our best friends.” Taehyun got the courage to look at you, both of you sharing the smallest, most innocent look just as Joy clicked play on the next video.

~ june 3rd, 2012 ~

The sun beating down on your bare back was anything but comforting. Standing in your backyard with a crystal champagne glass in your hand on the edge of the commotion, you eyed the guests waltzing about in their dress clothes with a grimace.

Atop the balcony of the porch, pink streamers and pink balloons hung down, keeping the place on theme. Pink plates, pink tablecloths, pink cutlery, pink candy, pink napkins, pink, pink, pink… You were sick of it. All the pink.

Women and men, most you didn’t even know, all paraded around with smiles and witty comments of grace for you and your family and the beautiful home that you have.

Oh, it’s just glorious isn’t it?

Yes, thank you my mother knows how to spend that man's money, that’s for certain.

He hee!

Ha ha!

It meant nothing. This whole event, it meant nothing. It felt like some sort of glorified apology.

We’re so sorry my son knocked up your daughter, here, have a disgustingly expensive baby shower, on us!

Downing the rest of your glass, you placed it on the tray of a waiter who came close to you and took two full ones off of it. Knocking back one of them real quick, you returned it to where it came from and decided to nurse the other.

Messing with one of the thin straps of your dress that dug into your shoulder, a floor length floral thing that Joy picked out for you a couple weeks ago, you groaned and cracked your neck, rubbing the muscle with a sigh. Across the party you spot your mother doting on the guest of honor, Sana, wearing a baby pink strapless gown. Her black hair was pinned up in a bun with a pink ribbon tied around it.

She was glowing, and you hated it.

Her belly was round as ever, almost one month away from popping. It was the only thing on her to change throughout this pregnancy, not that you were keeping track. She kept her slender figure, her smooth skin, her bright eyes, her luxurious hair… It was wretched. Maybe she was just nineteen, and that was it. You couldn’t believe your family, or hers, was allowing any of this to happen.

Jin hovered around her with his camera, making sure he captured every detail about this momentous day, this memorable occasion. His first grandchild, a baby girl that you knew he would love no matter where she came from. He and Joy were either in shock, or they truly were the ditzy idiots they made themselves out to be.

You didn’t think you’d be able to drink enough champagne to make it through.

Pressing your glossed lips to the rim of your glass, you let the drink spill into you, finishing it quick, actively pursuing another. Hurrying into the house, slamming the sliding door shut, the mouth watering smell of food and baked goods hit you, drawing you toward the kitchen. Heels clicking on the floor, you walked as fast as the torture devices could take you until you were kicking them off, picking them up by the strap, letting them dangle between two fingers. Stepping into the doorway of the kitchen, completely new and redone, everything a sparkling shade of blue, you find, like, eleven women standing around talking with their noses in the air. You didn’t know a soul.

Spinning around on your toes, desperate for an escape, you rushed into the living room where some of the guys were hiding out with a couple of random kids. Beelining for the bar in the back of the room, you drop your heels on top of it, push by two guys standing nearby and bring yourself behind it. Grabbing onto the neck of a tequila bottle, you acquire a shot glass from one of the shelves and fill it up to the top. It went down with ease, you were already filling it up for a second when a hand took the bottle from you, letting some of the alcohol spill onto the bartop.

“Alright,” Beomgyu said, holding the tequila hostage, watching you take the second shot. His gaze lingered on your lips, even after you ran your tongue over them. Once you slammed the glass on the counter and audibly expressed your relief with a happy sigh, he narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to take you somewhere else? You know Jungkook said you could stay at his house while… this happened.”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your lipgloss smearing across the skin, you rolled your eyes. “Your brother doesn’t care that much.”

Beomgyu nodded profusely. “Yes, he does. You know he does.”

“Stupid, it’s stupid,” you muttered, reaching for the bottle he held away from you. “Lemme have it.”

“If you’re gonna get plastered, that’s stupid,” Beomgyu said. “It won’t make him talk to you.”

A guttural laugh escaped you. “You think I want him to talk to me?!”

The boy with long, shaggy hair that framed his face spectacularly softened his eyes. “Let me take you to Jungkook’s, please.” He planted both hands on the bar, leaving the tequila unattended.

Leaning forward, placing your elbows on the counter, you pretended to debate his offer, then snagged the bottle back instead, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Beomgyu sighed, heavily, then circled the bar to stand beside you. He reached up for his own glass and stole the bottle from you, filling both the shot glasses.

“Not gonna let you do it alone,” he said, handing you your little glass. Holding his in the air, you clinked them together and took the shot, smiling with Beomgyu. “Besides… he’s high, anyway.”

Tilting your head side to side, you laughed. “He’s always high.”

Beomgyu refilled the glasses and watched you knock it back. Picking his up, he studied it, then studied you. Big, beautiful brown eyes took you in, swallowed you whole. “I’m sorry,” he said.

You brushed it off with a shrug. “Sorry for what, Gyu.”

He gulped, shaking his head slightly before he took his shot, placing it down with a knock on the bar. “All of this,” he gestured around at all of the pink. Beomgyu never discussed what went on between you and Taehyun. Ever. It was rare. “I just… I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, you wallowed in his sorrow for a moment. “He’s stupid,” you muttered, looking down at the shot glasses, messing with them to keep your hands busy. Feeling a buzz already, you couldn’t stop the words from coming out, or the tears. “Gyu, why did he do this?”

A heavy breath fell from his lips as he lifted a hand to brush away a tear. “I dunno.”

“I mean, she… she came out of nowhere, and then this happens?!” you waved your arms around, Beomgyu nodding along, encouraging you to keep going. “She’s a kid, he’s a kid, we’re… We’re kids. He’s throwing the rest of his life away, doesn’t he know that?! Sana’s a total bitch, what the hell does he see in her anyway!?”

“You got me there,” he said, pouring two more shots, one he took fast.

“I mean, like, do you see it? What’s the appeal? Do you think she’s hot?” Taking your shot you missed the way he totally checked you out.

“He totally downgraded,” he mumbled, pouring two more shots.

“Please,” you snickered, following suit, drinking the alcohol. A hiccup came out of you, one that made Beomgyu laugh. “Sana’s gorgeous and you know it.”

“Yeah, but she’s not you,” he said, perking a brow. You took a step closer to him, laying an arm on his shoulder, hooking it around his neck.

Narrowing your eyes, you smirked. “You just mean he won’t share her.”

Beomgyu’s eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue darting out between his. “I’m gonna miss this.”

“Just ‘cause he and I are done doesn’t mean we have to be,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“You’re his,” he said. “Always have been, always will be. I don’t wanna get Yeonjun’d, I’ll keep my distance.”

Digging your fingers into his shoulder, you took one last long, good look at him. And he did the same to you. The alcohol held your heart together for the moment, but you knew once it wore off you’d be falling head first into the most debilitating heartbreak you’ve ever felt. No one had a clue what was supposed to happen after this day was over.

“You’re still my friend, Gyu.”

He raised a hand and placed it on top of yours, giving it a decent squeeze. “Always have been, always will be.”

Raising yourself on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his cheek and gave him a swift kiss before you stumbled back out to the backyard, making sure to grab the bottle of tequila first. People were still swarming, how long were baby showers supposed to be? Doing your best to stand up straight, you wandered across the patio without being noticed by a soul, and planted yourself in a seat underneath the shade of the balcony.

Twisting the top off of the bottle you took a long swig, falling back against the cushion with a giggle as you swallowed. You watched eagerly as girls who were clearly friends of Sana, dressed in tight dresses and high strappy heels, talked with one another and sipped on their champagne delicately, showing off their accessories and touching up their makeup as they spoke. They took tiny bites of their food and judged others around them with their eyes, you could feel it.

Another drink from the bottle. You were finally at the point where it felt like nothing mattered. Jin was still parading around with his phone, catching footage of people saying kind words to the baby and the mom to be. Overhearing most of it, it made you laugh, acquiring a judgemental glare from one of Sana’s minions. Not one person had a word to say about Taehyun. It was all Sana, Sana, Sana, and baby, baby, baby.

“Stupid,” you mumbled, sinking down on the cushion.

You were so focused on the others you didn’t recognize the body that approached you, snatching the tequila from you, dropping your heels on your lap. Jumping, startled as they hit your thighs, you sprung up and nearly toppled forward.

“Hey!” you shouted, looking up at the blurry figure. His dark hair and black button down made you laugh, loud. “No fucking way.”

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Pull yourself together.”

Gasping, you pressed a hand to your chest. “Pull myself together? Last I heard you were poppin’ molly at your own baby shower.” Taehyun groaned, crouching down to level with you. “Yanno, Gyu said this wouldn’t make you talk to me, who’s gonna tell him that he was wrong?”

“Tell him yourself,” Taehyun nodded to Beomgyu walking along the edge of the patio, Sana’s group of friends shamelessly checking him out. He pretended not to see them. It was laughable.

“GYU!” you shouted, catching his attention. He already knew, he sent you the smallest smile. Sana’s friends glared at you again. “He doesn’t want any of you, don’t even try,” you waved towards them, turning back to Taehyun who had buried his head in his hand.

“Baby, please,” he whispered.

“Baby?” you scoffed. “Your girlfriend over there is the one with the baby, Tae. Did you already forget? I know it happened so fast, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Stop,” he spoke through his teeth, looking up at you with a vengeance. “Please, stop. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

Catching you off guard, you slid back down in the chair and furrowed your brows. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyun, tired, intoxicated, wobbly on his feet, shook his head and sighed. “I dunno what I’m doing,” he said under his breath.

Lifting a hand, you poked his nose. “Then… you shouldn’t have done it.”

He shot to his feet, glaring down at you. Your body reacted, reaching up for him.

“No,” you whispered. “Come back.”

Taehyun scanned the backyard. “No,” he said, taking one more look at you before joining Sana and her parents where they were sitting with Jin and Joy.

A tear slipped down your cheek, you think. Taehyun smiled, or pretended to smile, while he spoke to her parents. He looked like he was saying nice things to Sana, probably asking her if she was alright, showering her with attention. Attention that used to be yours. It was attention he was allowed to give her in front of these people. That attention was never allowed to be yours. It wasn’t ever meant for you. It will never belong to you. It will never, ever be yours.

You were definitely crying now, alone on the porch in the corner while your family and the guests enjoyed this beautiful day and this beautiful celebration. There was another life coming into the world, a life that was half of the boy you loved, a life he decided to have with someone else. It felt like death. It all felt like hell, a burning, god awful hell.

“Come on,” Beomgyu said to you. Turning toward him, all you could do was reach your arms up for him to take, pulling you to your feet, letting your shoes topple to the floor. “We’re going to my brothers.”

“But, they-”

He brought you into the house. “He told me to take you to my brothers.” Facing you, he wiped away your tears and frowned. “You’re too pretty to cry, stop it.” The hallway you were in was quiet, secluded. Sucking in a deep breath, you gazed at him and pouted.

“You can’t drive, you-”

“Jungkook’s outside,” he breathed.

Nodding, you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close, giving him a real hug, heart to heart. “I love you, Gyu,” you mumbled into his neck.

The boy sighed, and held you tighter. “I love you, too.”

“No way, I was in Mom’s belly!” Rosie almost leapt off of Taehyun’s lap. The entire video came from Jin, he documented the entire day, the entire shower, every gorgeous detail that you now were able to appreciate. A hole in your heart remained, but it was so long ago now that the cut didn’t burn as deep.

Joy shared her excitement with Rosie, and Minho chimed in with some questions, asking who different people were that only his father and grandparents were able to answer.

You thanked the good lord, or whoever was up there, that you were barely in any of the shots. You remembered that day very differently than everyone else. Soobin even whispered to you how insufferable the day must’ve been, and that he was glad you weren’t together yet, or else he would’ve had to put up with that shit. And yes, he said shit.

“You were with Uncle Beomgyu again,” Rosie said to you, twisting on her fathers lap completely.

Glancing at Soobin who focused his eyes on the baby in your arms, you took a breath and looked at your niece. “Yeah, I was.”

Rosie’s face screwed up, confused. “I thought you guys didn’t date.”

“We didn’t,” you shook your head, tone going a bit stern.

The girl grilled you with her eyes. “Sure seems like you did.”

The room fell into a quiet chatter while Joy and Jin searched for another video. Your boys were talking to Minho, asking him questions about his mom that was just in the video, and Rosie whispered things to Taehyun you were dying to hear.

Soobin, as if he could feel your blood beginning to boil, leaned over and kissed your cheek. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze. “Just wasn’t expecting to have to dodge him either.”

Soobin watched you for a few seconds more, then bobbed his head.

Beomgyu hung around Taehyun more than he hung around with you. He showed up to Taehyun’s kids birthdays, not yours. Beomgyu accepted offers to stay at Taehyun’s for long weekends, or to watch sports games, or to go to concerts, or to just simply hang out in his basement. And Beomgyu reciprocated the invites. You never got a single one.

“Think this hurts more than it should,” you whispered, looking at your husband. Soobin, energy doing a complete one eighty, turned to your parents.

“How many more you guys got?” he asked with persistence. “My baby’s need to get to bed. Wonwoo’s on a schedule.”

Joy shoved Soobin by his shoulder and clicked her tongue. “Strict Soobin, come on.” Soobin smiled. He didn’t mind being the bad guy when it came to you. “Let us just watch one more, and I swear we’ll be done. We’re all having so much fun though, aren’t we?” The boys agreed with her, as did Rosie. Taehyun was silent, and so were you.

“One more,” Soobin said.

~ april 1st, 2009 ~

“Ready!?” Taehyun shouted to the crowd around your kitchen counter, standing in the dark, the only light coming from the candles shoved into the cake in front of you. “Here we go!” Thirty people, or more, sang Happy Birthday to you in the most obnoxious way possible, led by Taehyun himself. Friends, family from both sides, neighbors… Everyone was gathered to sing to you, to celebrate you. Though the lights were shaped like stars and the song was distorted in your ears, you were having the time of your life. Taehyun to your left, Beomgyu to your right, and Yeonjun hovering behind you, you had everything you could ever need, it made you want to cry. As the singing came to an end, you squeezed your eyes shut and blew out your candles, basking in the cheers that followed.

“She’s eighteen!” Your boys shouted, holding you in some way, jumping up and down with you in their arms.

The lights flickered on and the cake was whisked away. Your vision was truly tunneling, all you could see were the boys in front of you, congratulating you. Taehyun hugged you first, holding you tight. The one day he could without it being considered weird. Yeonjun was next, slipping his arms around your waist, bending you in half as you laughed and clung to his shoulders. Turning to Beomgyu, you reached for his cheeks and gave them a squeeze, getting a laugh out of him. He grabbed your hands and yanked you toward him, hugging you tight, pressing one of his cheeks to your own.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered to you. “Taehyun says when the party starts.” Pulling away, you stumbled backward and bit your bottom lip. Beomgyu was smug, but he was subtle. His attention immediately shifted when he watched your cheeks turn pink.

“Hey,” Yeonjun said, grabbing your wrist, pulling you out into the hallway. The pretty boy got you alone, his black hair parted in the center, hanging over his forehead almost brushed against your own. “I have something for you, but I can’t give it to you right now.”

Your eyes focused on his lips. His full, plump, beautiful lips you’d always been dying to kiss, only while under the influence. “Okay,” you whispered, blinking up at him mindlessly.

“It’ll make you feel even better than this,” he smirked, placing a hand on the wall above your shoulder. “I promise.”

“Really?” you sighed, falling under his charm. Yeonjun grinned, taking his other hand to your cheek, dragging his fingers over your warm skin.

“Really,” he said, his tone turning sultry. “Taehyun got this for you, right?”

Blinking twice, slowly, you nodded even slower. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Took it hours ago… Dunno what it is, Junie.”

Yeonjun’s expression turned serious. “Oh, no, honey, that’s not too safe is it?”

He began to shake his head, and you followed along. “No,” you whispered.

“No,” he lowered his brows. “It’s not. I can tell you exactly what I got you, it’ll-”

“C’mon, Baby,” Taehyun said, abruptly pulling you away from Yeonjun. The boy tumbled back and shot Taehyun a glare. “We’re outta here. Yeonjun you gotta go.”

Taehyun wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close under his. With Beomgyu close behind, Taehyun had you in a brisk walk, headed for the front door. “Wait, hold on, Tae,” you said, trying to turn back around.

“No, keep walking,” Taehyun muttered.

“Where the fuck are you guys going?” Yeonjun called after you, throwing his arms out to the side. Taehyun turned toward him for only a moment more.

“Somewhere without you,” he narrowed his eyes. “Till you stop being a shady piece of shit.”

Yeonjun placed his hands on his hips, his gaze shifting between Taehyun and Beomgyu. “You two are the ones being shady pieces of shit, like what even is this?” He gestured toward you. “It’s her party and you’re leaving? And I’m not going with?”

“Why’s he not coming with?” you parroted his words, but Beomgyu shut you up with a glare. “Oh, right.”

Yeonjun clapped his hands together and laughed sarcastically. “Shady shit! You guys suck.” He made it to the front door first. “Happy Birthday,” he said to you, reaching in his pocket, tossing a small bag of powder by your feet. Beomgyu was quick in picking it up and pocketing it, making sure no adult had rounded the corner. By the time the three of you looked back at the door, Yeonjun was gone.

“Did he touch you?” Taehyun asked, his eyes burning into yours. A shake of your head didn’t appease him. “Words, Baby.”

“No,” you said, trying to swallow, but your mouth was suddenly really, really dry. “I need water.” Your voice was hushed.

Taehyun cringed. “Ah, shit, right,” he mumbled, then looked up at Beomgyu. “Jungkook wanna make a pitstop on the way to your house?” Both boys started you for the door once again, your feet almost stumbling over the other.

“Am I supposed to feel more… more dizzy?” you laughed. Beomgyu and Taehyun shared a look, laughing with you.

“We gotta catch up,” Taehyun whispered. You could barely see the boys around you as they spoke, you only heard their voices that were as beautiful and as soothing as a lullaby. “I wanna feel what she’s feeling.”

Beomgyu wrapped an arm around you, helping Taehyun get you out the door. “I wanna feel what she’s feeling while feeling her.”

You managed to swat a hand at his chest. “Gyu,” you sang. The front door shut behind you, and it was just the three of you on the porch. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you pulled him toward you and pressed your lips to his, feeling like you had no control over anything you were doing. He kissed you back, it was a rough, wet mess. You were just slipping your tongue between his lips when a hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back.

Stumbling into Taehyun's chest, you giggled and spun around, throwing your arms around his shoulders, letting your lips meet more gentle than they did with Beomgyu’s. Taehyuns kiss was careful, and sweet, and full of feeling, and, and…

“Who was that lady with the white hair?” Minho called out as the video ended on a scene of family lounging around the living room.

“That’s your Great-Aunt Jennie,” Jin said to the boy, smiling at him. “That was my favorite one,” he glanced at his wife, “Full of people I haven’t seen in ages.” Joy placed a hand to his thigh and gave it a squeeze. Great-Aunt Jennie passed away two years ago.

Mina had climbed onto Soobins lap at some point during that last one, where your brain was trailing off elsewhere. Your family was watching scenes of your family, but you were on the front porch, getting in the car with Beomgyu’s older brother, driving to their house to spend two nights in a row there. The three of you missed two days of school that week, of your senior year.

“I think I’m all videoed out,” you said a bit too loud, standing to your feet, heading out into the hallway without a look back. With Wonwoo in your arms you took it upon yourself to head upstairs and put the baby in the bassinet you brought with you after changing and nursing him.

Keeping your mind clear, blocking out every and any thought you were having, you got changed yourself, throwing on one of Soobin’s t-shirts and a pair of flowing sweatpants. You didn’t bother to brush your teeth or take off your makeup, instead you curled up in your bed and tried to not let the thoughts consume you while you waited for Soobin to come up.

Coming here for the weekend was one thing. You were already thrown into a torturous mess of family and remembering things, you didn’t know you’d be forced to relive so many different memories you had suppressed for a multitude of reasons. Laying here in the dark, you’re beginning to think this weekend was meant to happen this way to show you exactly how far you’ve drifted from this life. That Soobin and your kids was where you were meant to be, happy and dramaless, safe and growing in positivity and a pureness your children were not going to get from this house.

It was nauseating, and would give you a migraine if you thought about it for too long. In just one day, after yearning for what used to be, you’ve realized it wasn’t what it was. It’s not the same as it was. Whatever you were longing for would not feel the same as it did when you were eighteen, nineteen, even twenty-one. You were at an entirely different aspect of life now. A healthy one.

“Darling?” Soobin whispered, the door opening slowly, light flooding in from the hallway. Sitting up, you watched him shut the bedroom door quietly so as to not wake the baby, then he walked to your side, catching you as you fell into him. “Are you alright?”

“Next Christmas we stay for a day,” you whispered. “Then, we leave and spend it with the kids. Just the kids.”

Soobin drug his hand in a circle around your back, letting it slip beneath the shirt you wore. “You know, I’m not going to say no.”

Looking up at him, you tried to give him a smile. “Thank you.”

“For?” Soobin quirked a brow.

“For being you,” you whispered. “For believing in me, and sticking by me, and supporting me, and treating me nicely, and… loving the kids.”

Soobin held back a smile, his eyes going slightly wide. “That’s a lot of thank you’s.”

“I mean every word,” you said. “I love you so much. I think I’m… content… not having heavy ties here.”

Your husband sucked in a breath, like relief had struck him suddenly. “Moving on.”

You finally smiled, nodding. “Moving on.”

“Thank god,” Soobin groaned, pushing you backward against the pillows to smother you with kisses. His lips were halfway down your neck until you pushed him off.

“Where’s the kids?” you asked.

A soft smile graced his lips. “Taehyun offered up his bedroom for all of them. He got Mina’s little crib set up in there, and the boys snuggled up in his bed with Minho.”

“Rosie?” You raised your brows.

Soobin chuckled. “She’ll be in a sleeping bag on the floor next to Mina.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” he said. “Now, may I continue?”

Glancing at the baby’s bassinet that was set up in the corner furthest from you, you turned back to your husband with a smile and hummed. “Continue,” you giggled.

It seemed impossible to sleep, and no, it wasn’t Christmas excitement keeping you up. Soobin, sound asleep beside you, had done his best to tire you out, to relax you enough that you’d want to shut your eyes and snooze, but it wasn’t enough.

After Christmas you were heading back home to be a family of six, unsure of when you’d be coming back here to visit your family, unsure of when you’d ever see Taehyun again. Everything was still unclear between the two of you, whether or not your relationship was in good standing. Those videos gave you a decent idea of where you were headed with your decision on making up.

Slipping out of the covers carefully so you didn’t startle Soobin, you checked on Wonwoo who was also sound asleep, then tiptoed out to the hallway. It was dark, and quiet, the only light coming from the stairs, where the Christmas throw up was. Pushing your hair back out of your face, you took yourself down there, the stairs creaking beneath you as snuck down. Peeking into the front room with the tree and the lights, you find mountains of gifts waiting for your kids under the branches. Gifts upon gifts you didn’t even approve of were patiently awaiting their sticky little fingers to tear them open. Two little green bikes were standing by the windows. Your twins were going to lose their minds.

The rest of the house was silent, everyone was clearly asleep. Sneaking down the hallway into the kitchen, a gasp escapes you when you find Taehyun sitting at the kitchen table in the dark with a glass of water sitting in front of him.

“Jesus, Tae,” you whispered.

“Sorry,” he breathed a laugh. “Didn’t wanna cause any commotion.”

Taking a breath to calm your beating heart, you walk over and take a seat next to him, keeping your focus on the table in front of you. “No, you’re good, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be up.”

Taehyun bobbed his head and twisted his glass on the wood. “Sober sleep is hard.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You wake up feeling a lot better though.”

He laughed. “True.”

Silence fell between you, a suffocating silence, like there was so much more to say yet not enough time to say it. Either that or neither of you had the balls to do so.

“Everything that I’ve said today,” Taehyun began, gulping, “I’m sorry.” He looked to you with only his eyes. You did the same. “It wasn’t appropriate of me to let you hear any of it.”

Shifting your body, you turned to face him, pulling your legs up on the chair. “I needed it.”

He looked at you with wild eyes. “Really?” Copying your stance, he twisted to give you his full attention.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “We can’t live with all that shit trapped inside of us. That’s what’s made these last twelve years really, really hard. We stopped talking.”

Taehyun rolled his eyes. “I stopped talking.”

“Why did you?” Your voice was a whisper, one that made him recoil with a slight shake of his head. “And don’t say it’s ‘cause of Sana, because I know for a fact that it’s not.”

He stared down at nothing for a few seconds, before a gentle groan came out of him and he gave you a half smile. “Beomgyu.” The name, after those videos, made your stomach turn. In the not fun way.

“What about him?” Your voice was small.

“I don’t even think I need to say it.”

“Taehyun, please.”

He exhaled heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. “You guys… liked each other.”

A breath corrupted your lungs, a lump lodging in your throat as you tore your eyes away from him, looking about the kitchen. Taehyun smiled something of sorrow.

“I was a toy for him to play with,” you mumbled, and he detested immediately.

“That is a lie and you know it,” he said. Meeting his eyes, you felt a tear slip out of one of yours. “You saw those videos, I couldn’t watch anything except for how he looked at you. Shit, Baby, I was there. I could see, I could feel how he felt. And I know how it feels to be loved by you. You loved him too.”

Wiping your hands over your face, letting them sit there for a moment, you sniffled. “Oh, it’s so fucked, Tae.”

“I know,” he whispered. “It’s so fucked.” He went quiet, glancing around the room, watching the snowfall outside. “I don’t blame it for our problems, though. I don’t blame him. He’s still my best friend, he’s still…” You snapped your eyes toward him, begging him to not say the words. A sigh and a head shake was answer enough that he’d keep his mouth shut.

“I had Rosie on purpose,” he decided to tread carefully. “We know this, I… yelled it at you.”

“Sorry for trying to talk you out of it.” Your hushed voice surprised him. “You love her, so much. Both of them. It hurts me that I tried to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t know,” he said, the look in his eye accepting your apology. “We didn’t know we’d be here. We didn’t know Sana would stick with me. No one knew if I’d make it this far, have them with me, have any sort of custody… It’s okay.” He nodded. “You wanted to protect me.”

“That day, at her shower,” you rested your chin on one of your knees, “You wanted to protect me. I remember you telling Gyu to take me to his brothers.”

Taehyun let the memory find him. “I did. He wanted to bring you there anyway, without me telling him to. We both knew you wouldn’t go if I didn’t say something.”

“Where were going with this before?” you asked. “Talking about Rose.”

Taehyun attempted a smile. “I… had her on purpose. Which sounds pretty shitty to say out loud.” The two of you shared a quiet laugh. “But, I got with Sana for more of a reason than to just piss you off.”

“You did piss me off pretty bad,” you giggled, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m good at that,” he popped his brows once. “I just…” The energy shifted. “There was no life with me,” he whispered, looking at you. “There was no life… with you. You and I, we could never have this.” He gestured around the kitchen.

Raising your brows you sighed. “You and I couldn’t ever afford this.” It made him laugh, thankfully. His hands found his lap, folding together between the sweats he was wearing to bed.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” you said, tone as soft as his.

“I had to do something, something that would force us to stop what we were doing, ‘cause there was little to nothing that would stop us.” He huffed a laugh watching you force back a smile. “As much as it hurt… It hurt so bad. I did it for you.”

“That’s ass backwards,” you muttered.

“Totally,” he agreed. “I saw you and Gyu. Saw how you were. I thought, if I did this, you two would get together. Eventually.”

Trying to swallow the lump in your throat away, it seemed it was there to stay. Another tear fell. “And how did that plan work out?”

Your whisper just about punched him in the gut. “I didn’t think any of this would happen.”

Wiping your own tears, you took in a shaky deep breath. “You know, you could’ve just said the words, Taehyun. That’s all I ever wanted, was for you to talk to me. A majority of my life was one big secret, I didn’t need anymore from you.”

He took you in, accepting defeat. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

A sarcastic laugh came out amongst the tears. “And you thought that was Gyu?” you whispered, sniffling, and laughing. “He literally told me he wouldn’t do anything because I was yours. Always was, always will be.” Taehyun averted his gaze. “If you weren’t involved, I barely heard from him. To this day, I don’t hear from him.” But, you knew he knew that.

“Do you know how lucky I am to have the man that I do upstairs?” you continued on, Taehyuns eyes eventually finding yours again. “Do you know how unbelievable it is that he’s even with me? I already fucked up with him once, with undeniable, living proof that we’ll have for the rest of our lives, and he married me, Taehyun.” You took a second to wipe your tears. “Where was Beomgyu?”

Getting up out of his chair, he paused you for a moment. “Hang on,” he muttered, leaving the kitchen, then reappearing after a minute or two with envelopes in his hands. “I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to give you these.” He sat beside you and placed the long white letter envelopes on the table. “Was worried you wouldn’t come this weekend.”

Jaw tight, you reached for the envelopes and kept a strong face as you picked them up. Your tears betrayed you, as you read the names on the front of the four letters they fell steadily. Two were dated from the boy's fourth birthday, their names written neatly on the front, as well as the other two, from their fifth birthday this year.

This was how it went. An envelope for each boy with a birthday wish and a hefty amount of cash. Usually these were slipped to you at one of Taehyun’s kids parties, discreetly, like it was hush money and not birthday gifts for your children. Words were never spoken, nor exchanged. The letters were given to you, by Taehyun, and you handed them off to your husband without a second thought.

“Have you ever read them?” he asked, eyeing the envelopes you held.

“No,” you breathed, and he nodded. “Soobin has, though. I might, eventually.”

Nodding again, Taehyun sat quietly, letting you have a minute before he said, “He’s a good man.”

Flickering your eyes up to him you smiled. “He’s a damn good man, Tae.” Holding up the letters, you scoffed. “After this? Taking care of and accepting those boys like they’re his own? I swear… I don’t deserve him.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “You deserve him and so much more.”

Six years ago, you and Soobin’s gap year, that sounded so superficial at this point, you ran back to the two boys, both Taehyun and Beomgyu. A taste of your old life, one that Soobin was detoxing you from. It scared you, to think you were losing a side of yourself, the only side of yourself you had ever known. You weren’t able to stay at Taehyun’s, and you sure as hell didn’t want to stay back at home, so you settled on living at Beomgyu’s for some time.

Having his own place by then, not too far from Taehyun’s, the three of you lived like you were twenty again, and it was exhilarating, it was freedom, it was familiar. Thinking about it now you cannot believe that you allowed half of it to happen, Taehyun was a married man with two children, but most of that year, those collective months, was a blurred mess. Neither of the boys tried to talk you out of anything with Soobin, in fact, they barely spoke his name. You led… everything.

At this point it seemed that Beomgyu had somewhat gotten over his, ‘you’re always his’, thing, because most mornings you weren’t waking up in the spare room, you were waking up beside him, with tangled limbs and hungover, naked bodies.

You didn’t know you were pregnant until you made up with Soobin. After months of living in hazy chaos, you had an epiphany, much like the one you had a few hours ago after watching the home movies. It wasn’t a life you wanted. It clearly wasn’t a life Beomgyu wanted either.

Living back here at home, days away from moving in with Soobin, into the first tiny home you shared together, you found out you were expecting. Positively gutted, knowing there was no way in hell that Soobin had fathered the child, you were at a loss. You sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom upstairs, alone, for an hour. There was no Taehyun to rush in to save you, to hold you in his arms and tell you everything was going to be okay. You were completely alone, and you had no other choice but to tell Soobin.

Sure, you could’ve taken the other route and gotten yourself out of the shitty predicament, but something in your heart was begging you to tell him. So, you did. And, you hurt him. He didn’t ignore you, he didn’t push you away, he didn’t postpone your move in, he was there for you, and cared for you.

It was one thing you still couldn’t wrap your mind around. How one day he woke up, and decided it was the day to propose, at your bedside in the early morning when you just peeked open your eyes. He spoke words that, still to this day, had the power to bring you to tears. He accepted you, he promised to love and to care for you. He accepted your boys, before either of you even knew there were two. For six years he’s kept his promise. For six years he’s been the best damn father any child could ask for.

“Taehyun, I know we both said things we still mean,” you spoke carefully, keeping his gaze on yours. “You said that you love me, and I… I love you, too.”

He cringed to himself. “I hope you know I don’t mean it in the, I want you to divorce him, way.”

You nearly leapt out of your seat, reaching forward for his hands. “God, no, Tae,” you sighed. “Listen, part of me came here wondering what was left. Of us.” He listened intently, soaking up every word. “You probably thought I was gonna try to… get you back, or something.” He nodded solemnly, a confession he didn’t want to reveal. “And, maybe part of me wanted to find out, but that stuff isn’t important anymore. We’re two entirely different people now. We’re both sober, we’re both on track to live happy, fulfilling lives… We cannot go backward.”

Watching you, wondering if you had anything else to add, he asked, “Will you ever tell them? The boys?”

Your heart sank. “Soobin and I discussed it. When they’re old enough, we’ll tell them. We’ll give them the letters.” Your eyes burned, the tears coming on fast. “Though I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for them to find out that he didn’t want them. I don’t wanna break their hearts. I don’t want them to have to go through the same pain I did, the realization that your father rejected you, acting like you don’t exist.” Taehyun squeezed your hands. You swore a tear slid down his cheek. “How do I do that to them?”

Taking a deep breath, Taehyun gestured to the letters you threw down on the table. “Read them,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t place. “Before you tell the boys… read them.”

After a sniffle you nodded, wiping your tears on your shoulder. “I said it earlier, I want my kids to know you.” He drug his fingers over your skin delicately. “Especially the boys, you’re…” a shaky breath shot through you, “You’re the closest thing they have to him.”

It fell quiet once again, the brisk wind and snow outside the only thing to be heard, calming you both. Taehyun gave your hands one last squeeze before he let them go and tucked his back into his lap. “Yanno, Joy was saying some funny stuff.”

“That the boys look like you,” you said quickly, both of you laughing together.

“Yeah,” Taehyun screwed his face up. “It made me think. It made me think some things I shouldn’t think-“

“Tae,” you said gently. “They’re his. Gyu’s their daddy. I promise you.”

He looked at his lap. “Right,” he whispered, lips firmly pressed together.

Ignoring everything that changed about him in this moment, you kept things moving, picking up the letters off the table. “Thank you for these,” you smiled. “And, thank you for being here. For talking to me.”

He flashed you that grin that made your heart skip a beat. “What are friends for, Baby?”

Glittering wrapping paper littered the floor, more being thrown by the minute. Every child was beaming, showing off each gift they unwrapped to whoever's eye they could catch. The twins, absolutely losing their minds over their bikes, Mina, asking Jin to open up her new baby doll, Minho, reading the back of a vinyl record, and Rosie, counting how many new lip glosses she’s opened. The room was happy, full of life.

Soobin sat on a couch with Wonwoo in his arms, the infant holding onto a teething ring for dear life, chewing on it while he watched his family go crazy over their gifts. He shot you a smile each time one of your kids opened something new, a screech sounding off when they recognized it was something they’d been asking for.

“You boys want Daddy and Uncle Taehyun to teach you how to ride them?” you asked, holding up your phone to take photos of the twins trying to sit on their bikes. Taehyun, on the floor next to the tree, handing out gifts whenever a child asked for another, looked up at your husband, eyes full of hope.

“Oh my god, yes!” Chan shouted, jumping up and down on his feet covered by the fuzzy footed pajamas he wore. Sunoo, matching his brother, threw his arms in the air and cheered. Eyeing Soobin carefully, you sighed as you watched him smile and nod at Taehyun.

“Can we go now?” Sunoo pouted, eyes going wide. Taehyun snickered and looked over at you.

“Sun, look outside,” you pointed to the window. All the kids followed, glancing out to the snow that was probably going to have you stuck here for another night. “Don’t think you’ll be able to ride a bike out there.” Soobin shot you a look, his smile sarcastic, already dreading staying here one more time.

The boys moved onto other gifts, taking their time, scoping the scene, helping their sister and asking Minho what he got. Taehyun moved to the couch next to Soobin, a foot of space separating them, the three men falling into conversation with one another, Jin seeming happy to have them both there with him. Observing the organized chaos, you didn’t notice your mother approaching you, sliding her arm around your back where you stood in the archway.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” she smiled, speaking quietly to you. Giving her a quick smile, you focused back on your husband, who was handing Wonwoo over to Taehyun.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” you whispered. Taehyun gazed down at your son in awe, the first time he’s actually held him this weekend. The first time he was getting to know one of your kids before they learned how to walk. He didn’t get to do this with Mina. He barely got to do it with the twins. Wonwoo smiled up at him after he whispered something to the baby, and when he did, he looked up at you and the look on his face warmed your heart.

“He’s so…” Joy began.

“Good with the kids,” you finished, giving her a look. “I know, Mom.”

She forced a smile onto her lips, looking back at you like she was in pain. Her eyebrows were flipped and her eyes were glistening. “I’m sorry if those videos were a lot,” she said, and you scoffed, brushing it off. “No, I mean it. It’s clear you’re moved on from then, I think I was just so caught up in the past. It’s lonely here without you.”

Sighing, you turned to face her. “Mom, the videos-”

“I don’t need you to try to reassure me,” she actually smiled, rubbing your forearm. “They were a lot for me, too. Seeing that day,” her eyes widened for a second, her voice dropping back down to a whisper, one that sent a chill down your spine, “I was reminded how grateful I am that it wasn’t you.”

“Mom,” you gasped, clamping your jaw shut. Her eyes flickered toward Taehyun quickly, then back to yours without much else to say.

“I hold onto hope that one day you’ll open up to me,” she said. “I’m here for you. I always have been.” With another gentle rub of your arm she scurried off into the room to celebrate with the kids.

Your skin has flushed, you know it has. Frozen where she left you, you can’t comprehend what had just happened, what she had just told you, what she had literally admitted to you. Nausea washed over you, your throat closing, like the ability to breath was stolen from you.

She knew.

Willing yourself to turn toward the room where the commotion continued, but you heard half of it, you took one look at the men on the couch. Soobin and Taehyun, both looking back at you with concern. Soobin’s was protective, but Taehyun’s was straight worry. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to process. A secret you were planning to keep from her for the rest of your life, one that you and Taehyun were going to take to the grave, she knew about. She left you without any indication as to when she found out, who she found out from, if she figured it out herself, if Jin knew as well… She knew, and you didn’t know how.

Looking at your boys, your beautiful twin boys showing their grandmother their new books they had unwrapped, you felt your heart rate skyrocket as you realized that as she sat there talking with them, she thought they were Taehyun’s children.

You were crying, and you weren’t totally sure you were breathing either. Shaky hands pushed back your hair and wiped your tears. Shaky legs took you away from the celebration, into another room, the living room, where you fell onto a couch and buried your face in your hands, finally letting out a decent sob you’d been suppressing all weekend.

It wasn’t long until a pair of strong arms wrapped around you, cozying up next to you, pulling you into their lap. Smothering yourself in their chest, you grabbed onto them somehow, and cried. There weren’t any words to say. Looking up at your husband, teary eyed, there wasn’t a thing either of you could say, or do, to make this any better.

“I’ll find a way to get us home tonight,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Okay, maybe there was one thing he could say to make this a little bit better. And you knew damn well, better than anyone, that Soobin kept his promises.

☼ AO3 | wattpad | support | share with me ☼

thank you so much for reading. <3

114 notes · View notes