Billy was surprised when Karen called to invite him to your birthday party in New York’s hottest club.

Sure you liked expensive things but he never took you for a party girl. You were usually someone who would rather consume culture than alcohol but he went with it anyway.

Hey, at least you’d wear a slutty outfit.

But he got a bigger surprise when he actually got there. As he suspected you did wear a skimpy shimmering pink dress and at first glance he wished he could put some bunny ears on you for his very own playboy fantasy.

That’s before he saw him.

Billy knew Connor Montgomery very well, in fact he knew a lot of Connors through his job, all in their daddy’s bills having ANVIL’s security follow them to shallow night clubs and music festivals.

It was heartbreaking really to see you walking behind a Connor around the club like his little puppy.

He held you close to him but completely ignored you at the same time, like a new accessory he just got in SoHo and it made Billy’s blood boil.

As he drank an overpriced watered down scotch he couldn’t believe you would date a clown like that, all dressed in ridiculous clothes that made him look like a hobo but Billy was sure cost more than half of Manhattan.

He swear he could feel his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head when Karen told them they were calling him the new lizard king.

Please, Billy laughed, if anyone was the new lizard king it was him.

He eyed Frank who look like Gulliver in the land of Lilliput sitting around a tiny club table and caught that complicit grin.

He also thought this guy was a joke.

It was only when the time for you to blow the candles on your cake came and you looked around to try and find your absent boyfriend that Billy decided he was going to get rid of Connor Montgomery.

“Happy birthday angel.” He was the first to hug you after everyone clapped, the candles still smoking on your sprinkles cake.

He offered you a small velvet box and saw you give him a sad smile.

Your eyes were watery and he could see your nose turning red even under the crazy neon lights inside the place.

He rectified.

He was going to get rid of Connor Montgomery and he was gonna make it hurt.

You open the velvet box to find a pair of earrings and you smile a little more, but there’s still sadness in your eyes.

“You know the diamonds in those earrings are called angel tears.” He says touching your cheek that feels flushed and warm from the overcrowded club “They should be the only tears I ever see on you.”

“Thank you Billy, you’re a terrible Lothario but you you sure know how to give a good gift.”

He laughs at your comment and sees Karen walk up you, hugging you happy birthday while you whisper in her ear a quick thank you.

And then a question.

‘Have you seen Connor?’ He reads your lips and his pulse spikes.

Ever since Afghanistan Billy had a little voice in his head. A little red devil that popped up at the slightest inconvenience and commanded murder.

Only sometimes, on very special times, he’d let it take over, it made him see red and had his brain scheming miles a second.

It had taken your rosy cheeks covered in tears for him to let the voice take control.

He said his goodbyes with friends and left not before reminding you that you could call him anytime.

For anything.

It was a little blurry how the sequins of your dressed mixed in his mind with him telling Connor’s bodyguards that dickhead had gone home with you and they missed it.

They believed it immediately, tripping over their feet to get to their shinny black SUV and Billy laughed internally.

If they worked for him he would have fired them on the spot, that was security 101.

His whole maniac episode took him through the rest of the night. The adrenaline he felt when he got a wasted Connor to take the SUV from ANVIL instead of his guard’s without second guessing.

With a girl that wasn’t you by the way.

He got rid of the girl pretty easy when the lizard king himself turned out unconscious on the back of the car after his last line of coke.

She lost interest after that, guess there couldn’t be much condom poking or child support with a blacked out man and Billy took her home right away.

The only thing in his mind the entire time was how could you date a loser like that?

A loser that at the end of night sat tied to a chair, face fully swollen coughing blood.

He had blindfolded him, Billy wasn’t an idiot. He shaved his head, beat him up and made him believe it was a standard rich boy kidnapping.

He made him cry, he made him beg to stop the torture but Billy would just not budge. Every time Connor pleaded the image of you crying and pouting came to his mind and he’d punch every harder.

He told himself the trauma was necessary, to make the situation believable for Connor, but the little devil inside sure enjoyed the blood squirting after cutting one of the it boy’s fingers.

The fancy outfit he had chosen for your birthday now covered in crimson red with dilated pupils throwing Connors limp beat up body on the back patio of his McMansion.

He did receive ransom for him, he had asked for a stupid amount that any amateur would ask for, making the crime even more regular.

He’d use the money to cover your apartment in flower arrangements so you’d feel better, maybe a couple more gifts as soon as that parasite was gone.

Dry cleaning too.

Billy called Karen a few days after, pretending to be looking for Frank but confident in the way the blonde could never keep gossip to herself.

Apparently last thing you heard from Connor Montgomery was that his father was sending him to Austria to have one of his uncles discipline him and his party days where over.

At thirty something…

Whatever his father had told to the press to get him out of the country he was fine with as long as you never saw him again.

Jesse Solano was an easy target.

That was all Billy had thought when he saw you walk in the bar hand in hand with a certified nerd. His glasses fogging slightly with the warmth in the place while Billy fixed his shoulder holding a billiard cue.

Jesse was tall, he’d give him that, but he was clearly a pushover and when Billy nodded his head to greet him as you introduced them he made sure he reminded him of every bully he surely ever had.

You order for the both of you and now Billy is absolutely sure, this man is not right for you, you’re too much of a woman for a wimp like him, but you’re too stubborn to see it.

After a while when Jesse finally gains the courage to speak over the group of friends, Billy finds out that he is a physicist. He works in a lab and spends the day wondering what would happen if he puts a couple atoms together and explodes them in some sort of Star Wars fantasy.

Or at least that’s what the job sounds like to Billy who rolls his eyes every time Jesse adjusts his glasses. His blood boiling imagining that dork might make you wear some sort of princes Leia costume to bed.

“How long have you been dating?”

Karen asks and Billy takes a swig from his beer, giving Jesse a menacing look.

“A little over a month.” His voice trembles while he answers, obviously uncomfortable with the way Billy has been staring at him since he got there.

“And you’re already meeting the friends? Must be pretty serious then.”

Billy's gaze is on you now and it’s judging, reminding you of the deal you had made.

Only telling each other about serious partners.

You couldn’t be serious with this geek.

“Jeez Billy, you can’t ask people that!” 

Karen’s voice saves you and you look relieved against an annoyed Billy. Everyone in the table laughs and jokes about his intensity, and Billy would laugh too if he hadn't seen the way Jesse smiled at you and squeezed your hand.

Reassurance.

Billy has only dreamed about a partner reassuring their intentions with him and he’s thankful when the loud music in the bar won’t allow his friend to hear the way he angrily cracks his neck.

This man plans on keep seeing you, he’s got serious intentions with you and Billy’s gotta do something because not only is he the fifth wheel in this ‘friend’s night out’ but the way you laugh at Jesse’s nerdy jokes is making him sick. 

Karen keeps commenting on how sweet you two look together and Billy wishes he could say out loud that you liked it when he spat in your mouth and you don’t really do sweet, but he stays quiet, just observing.

Would you marry a boring guy like that?

Does he squeeze your neck the way you like it?

Do physicists have money?

His head is spinning with questions when he excuses himself to go to the restroom and he sees Jesse relax a little when he walks away from the table you all share.

Washing his face in the dim light room he formulates a plan. He is slightly tipsy, but then again, so he was when he managed to get you in his bed, so he’s confident.

Confident that he can easily get rid of ‘Sweet Jesse Solano’

He makes sure he tells everyone the restrooms are out of service when he comes back, loud enough that the neighboring table can hear him and orders another round for the entire bar.

You roll your eyes at him flashing his wealth and he gives you a bright big smile and a wink, he can’t let you forget he also has money.

A few rounds later a very tipsy looking Jesse still can’t hold eye contact with him and Billy excuses himself from the table to go on a smoking break. He knows it’s only a matter of time to get his plan into motion.

By the time he finishes his cigarette standing in the wet dark alley behind the bar he hears it. The back door and a tipsy physician stumbling to get his pants zipper down.

“You okay Solano?”

It was Billy’s opportunity and before Jesse could answer or pull his fly down he grabbed him by the shirt and violently slammed him against the wet brick wall.

“What the fuck?” Jesse’s muffled complain could be heard in the alley over the loud music that comes from the inside of the bar and Billy laughs.

Jesse’s nose is bleeding and Billy isn’t sure if it was that crooked before he pushed him or it’s definitely broken. 

He doesn’t care though, he’s not done and he throws punch after another for a couple seconds until Jesse is on the floor, spitting blood.

“Please stop.” He begs.

“You can never see her again, you hear me?” Billy wipes his bloody knuckles on a handkerchief  “Find an excuse, don’t hurt her, but stay the fuck away from my angel. Understood?”

“You’re fucking crazy.” 

“I can be crazier, don’t test me.” Billy bends down to lift Jesse from the ground and get him standing up in front of him, he even got his hand in his pants pocket and put the physicist’s keys in his hand. “If I ever see you around her again, I‘ll make sure no one else ever will, got it?”

“Fucking psychopath.”

Was the last line Billy heard watching Jesse Solano flee the scene holding his nose with a bloody hand.

God, Billy loved violence.

&

“Billy? Did you see Jesse? He went outside a while ago.”

Your voice is slightly concerned, slightly annoyed that you have to talk to him and Billy can’t help but stare down your cleavage in that light blue dress you’re wearing. he made sure to go in immediately, so the timing wouldn’t be suspicious and visit the very much working restrooms to wash his hands.

“Jesse? Oh your date!” He fakes innocence “Yeah he left like ten minutes ago.”

“What?”

“Said he had an emergency.” He shrugs taking a sip from the mojito you hold and scrunching his nose at the sugary taste of it. 

“An emergency? Why wouldn't he say anything to me?”

“I don’t know angel, maybe he lied, maybe he just wanted to go.”

“Did you say something to him, Russo?” You accuse him with your finger pointing to his chest and he laughs out loud this time.

“I’m just saying, maybe it was too soon to meet the friends, maybe he felt rushed and didn't know how to say it.” He rambles. “Or maybe he did have an emergency and he’ll call you later and you’ll get married and have lots of four eyed babies, who knows. But meanwhile, need a ride home?”

“I’ll take a cab thanks.” You say taking your phone our of your purse.

With the height difference Billy can see you texting Jesse Solano. There’s a heart emoji next to his name and Billy wants to barf, but at least there’s no answer.

“In that dress? I know you hate me but enough to risk getting assaulted?” He’s faking chivalry and you can see right through it “Just a ride home, you don’t have to invite me upstairs. Unless you want to.”

“I’ll ask Frank and Karen.”

“Good luck, saw them making out on a dark corner a while ago. Lord knows where they are now.”

You make a spoiled little girl pout and stomp your high heeled foot. 

“Fine. but just a ride, don’t get any ideas.”

“Yes ma’am. Grab your coat come on.”

&

The ride to your apartment is quiet and he can see you check your texts from the corner of his eye. You keep waiting for Jesse’s reply but at least on the journey together it never comes.

You seem worried though and Billy wishes you’d let him hug you and take the stress away. Tell you that a guy that would just abandon you at a bar isn’t worth your worry, specially if it was in front of your friends.

But he doesn’t, instead he pulls up to your driveway and watches you put your phone back in your purse.

“Thanks for the ride Bill.”

“Hey! I know you don’t care about my opinion.”

“I don’t.”

“And you think I’m an idiot womanizer.”

“I do.”

“But I would never abandon you like that. If you were my girl I’d keep you by my side at all times so no one would get any ideas.”

“Wow.” You fake infatuation with a hand on your chest. “Being treated like an accessory, the ultimate romance!” 

Billy laughs anyways as you open the door of the car but wait and turn back to him before you get off.

“Why do I feel like you have something to do with Jesse leaving?”

“God I hope so.” He smiles “I never met a more boring person in my life.”

“Goodnight Billy.” You say rolling your eyes and shutting the door behind you as he keeps talking.

“Just the most bland man ever!” He yells over the open window of the car and sees you lift your middle finger without even facing him.

"look at you," he murmurs, voice low and almost affectionate, "already trembling and i've barely touched you."

his fingers trace down your sternum, nails dragging enough to leave faint red lines in their wake. you arch into the touch instinctively, pulling a chuckle from hongjoong's lips as he closes his hand around your throat.

"you asked for this, remember?" he leans down, lips brushing your ear. "wanted me to hurt you. said you could take it, right?"

you nod as much as his grip allows and hongjoong smiles sharply, almost predator looking.

he releases your throat only to slide his hand lower, pinching one nipple between his fingers until you gasp. the pain blooms quickly, shooting straight between your legs. he twists his fingers a little more, watching your face closely to drink in the discomfort.

"good," he praises, "make those pretty sounds for me."

his mouth follows his hand, teeth sinking into your skin hard enough to pull a cry from your lips. he moves to the other side, repeating the action, causing you to strain your wrists against the cuffs, the metal digging into your skin.

hongjoong pulls back to admire the marks he left, deep reds blooming over your skin as he presses his fingers into a fresh bite, making you whimper.

"mine," he says simply, "all of this is mine to break."

he shifts down, spreading your thighs and dragging his nails down the sensitive skin, leaving long red trails. he pauses when he reaches your center, thumb circling your clit before he slaps you hard.

you jolt, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he does it again but harder, pain blooming instantly. your hips try to twist away from him, causing him to laugh quietly, pinning you down with a palm on your stomach.

hongjoong leans in and bites the inside of you thigh, hard enough to break skin, before presses his thumb into it, watching you writhe.

you're dripping by the time he finally pushes two fingers inside you, curling them roughly against the spot inside that makes you see stars. he fucks you steadily while his other hand rubs your clit, occasionally delivering another sharp slap to make your walls clench.

"hongjoong- fuck- please-!"

"please what?" he asks, voice calm as he adds a third finger, stretching you. "please hurt you more? you want me to make it worse?"

you nod frantically, and he rewards you by sinking his teeth into your hip, making sure the skin breaks. the pain pushes you closer to the edge, making hongjoong pull his fingers out right as you're about to tip over.

you sob in frustration, pulling a smirk to his lips as he climbs back up your body, kissing you roughly. "not yet," he whispers against your lips, "want you crying before i let you cum."

he flips you onto your stomach with ease, yanking your hips up so your ass is in the air, cuffed wrists trapped beneath.

his palm cracks against your ass without warning, alternating sides until your skin is raw and burning. hongjoong pauses to dig his fingers into the sore skin, spreading you open to see how wet you are.

"beautiful," he murmurs before spanking you harder, causing tears to prick at your eyes, streaming down your cheeks.

once your ass is a mess of red handprints, he finally presses the head of his cock against your entrance. he drags it through your folds, coating himself in your wetness while one hand fists into your hair, yanking your head back.

"beg," he demands, voice low.

"please- hongjoong please fuck me, hurt me, i need it-"

he slams into you in one thrust, the stretch burning instantly as he starts a punishing rhythm. every snap of his hips drives him deeper, the head of his cock hitting spots that make you scream into the sheets.

his hand comes down on your bruised ass, leaning over you and letting his teeth find your shoulder, biting down while he pulls you into him harder.

"take it," hongjoong growls against your skin, "take everything i give you."

you're sobbing as your body flares with pain and pleasure, and he reaches around to pinch your clit roughly, enough to push you over the edge.

your orgasm crashes over you violently, walls clamping down around him as you shake. hongjoong fucks you through it, chasing his own release while you're pulsing and oversensitive.

he buries himself deep, letting himself spill inside you with a low grunt, staying inside you while his cock twitches.

hongjoong pulls out after a while, grabbing a warm cloth to clean you up, wiping the sweat and slick between your thighs gently.

"shh, baby.. i've got you," he whispers, uncuffing your wrists and bringing each one to his lips to kiss the marks left behind, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the tender areas.

he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms, threading his fingers through your hair and stroking the strands softly, pressing tiny kisses to your temple and cheeks.

"you were so good for me," he murmurs against your skin, "my sweet girl.. i'm so proud of you." one hand traces lazy patterns down your back, letting you tuck your face into his neck.

Still having half a braincell left, you get your phone out and text Minho that you’ve made it home safe. You’re still not sure if you’re grateful for him making you check in, or if it pisses you off. Any therapist worth their salt would probably tell you it’s both. 

The way he instantly shoots you a message back lets you know he’s been waiting for your text, and you’re strangely annoyed by this. It’s like you’re back to being a kid with a nagging parent who won’t stop sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong. But you manage to keep yourself from sending an exasperated text back, not wanting to act like a bitch even though you’re definitely being one (Minho just doesn’t know it). 

In an attempt to get something done, you get your earphones out and put your favorite upbeat music on, ignoring the fact that the melodies don’t give you the same high they used to. 

You decide to start in the living room for some fucking reason, not the kitchen that desperately needs it the most. It only takes you three songs to realize your mistake but by the time you come to the realization, you’ve already piled clutter high on the living room table and if you stop now, you KNOW you’ll never get to it again. 

So, you keep at it. 

Gathering everything that doesn’t have an assigned place or function, dirty dishes and just plain old trash in an attempt to then divide them up into different piles to make it easier for yourself, all while feeling the anxiety crawling up your throat as the mess around you somehow just keeps growing. 

At some point your doorbell rings. 

You’ve once again lost track of time, and you have no idea how long you’ve been sitting on the floor in the same position but judging by the way your joints are screaming at you, you can only surmise it’s been hours. 

Snatching your phone up, paranoid that it’s Seonghwa on the other side of the door and you’ve somehow missed a text that he’s coming over, you quickly note the time, a little after noon, but you’re left with no clue as to who is at your door. 

It takes you too long to get off the floor but you eventually you do make it to the door, checking the camera before you even think of unlocking it. 

The delivery man looks into the camera with a polite smile, the bag in his hand sporting the logo from your favorite comfort restaurant. 

“Hello, ma’am?” The man says, showing the bag a little clearer to the camera. “I have a delivery for you.” 

You don’t know why it’s so difficult to open the door all of a sudden but somehow you manage, barely opening it enough to stick your head out in a way that you realize must make you look like a complete lunatic. 

“Thank you.” You say, giving a timid little nod as you accept the bag. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Nothing, ma’am, it’s already been paid for.” The delivery man gives you another smile and a proper nod in return before he makes to leave. “Have a good day.” 

You stare at the bag in your hand as the man’s footsteps get further and further down the stairs and it’s only when you can’t hear him anymore that you retreat back into the apartment, making sure to lock the door safely behind you. 

You’ve barely made it into the kitchen when your phone vibrates with a text from your boyfriend, the star behind his name shining a little brighter than usual making a bone deep need to wrap your arms around him burn inside you. 

“Hope you don’t mind but I ordered you something to eat. I know you forget sometimes when you’re feeling under the weather. Feel better, my beautiful Nova. A million kisses from your star” 

“I don’t deserve you, Hwa.” You type back, eyes watering and your heart aching. 

“Yes you do.” Hwa instantly texts back and you can almost hear the soft yet insistent tone in his voice. “Call me if you need anything.” 

“Mhm.” You send, staring at the too brief message as a text bubble from Seonghwa pops up and disappears twice before you decide to throw off any suspicions with another message. 

“Thank you for caring about me. I love you too <3” 

The bubble goes away. 

Then comes back. 

A quick vibration, and the sobs finally break through the wall of numb indifference. 

“Always <3” 

The soup doesn’t bring you as much comfort as it usually does but you know that has nothing to do with the restaurant or how it’s been made, and everything with your internal turmoil. It is warm though and it trickles past the icicles in your chest, heating you up from the inside and even in this state you can find some comfort in that. 

You feel bad for denying your boyfriend the chance to look after you like you know he wants, and most likely needs, but you can’t have him see. 

You’re not ready. 

You have to show him soon, you know you do. 

But not now. Not today. 

Not when there’s still so much to do. 

Once the soup is finished you send a picture of the empty bowl to Seonghwa. Some sick part of you needs the validation for doing the one thing you’ve been able to do right today, and when he says he’s proud of you it’s like your world gets a little bit brighter and the air flows a little easier into your lungs. 

Even though the soup is light it somehow sits heavy in your stomach and although you want nothing more than to go to bed, you figure you might as well try to deal with the tower of dishes since you’re already in the kitchen. 

The first thing you do is empty the coffee maker and get a new pot ready. If you’re going to have any chance of making this work, caffeine is definitely going to be needed. 

It’s slow work, every second dragging as if you’re underwater but the image of Seonghwa telling you he’s proud of you keeps you going, pushing you past the discomfort and the exhaustion screaming in your bones in an attempt to become someone worthy of him. 

This time you will keep going. 

Even if it kills you. 

“I’m telling you, San-ah, that treadmill is going to blow any day now.” Seonghwa sighs, folding his arms over his chest as he watches the mess in front of him. 

“We’re not wasting the money on a new one, hyung.” San rolls his eyes, continuing to fiddle with the machine to get it going again. 

“It’s not wasting if it’s needed.” 

“It’s not needed if I can get it working.” 

Seonghwa has to take a deep breath to stop himself from slamming the tool box over his friend’s head. 

“You know, I always thought the military would get you to listen better, not worse.” 

“Oh please, I need to get my autonomy back somehow.” The younger grins up at him with that stupid face that Seonghwa hates to admit is absolutely adorable. “Hand me that wrench, would you?” 

“We have the funds for a new one, you know?” The older rolls his eyes as he does what he’s asked, looking over San’s shoulder to watch him do a genuinely good job on the machine. 

“Then we’ll still have them when we actually need a new treadmill. This baby will run for at least another year, trust me.” San sounds so confident Seonghwa almost believes him. 

“Fine, you win.” The older throws his hands up, his exasperation only partially real and San absolutely knows it. 

“Admit it, hyung, you’ve missed me.” The younger grins over his shoulder and Seonghwa can’t stop himself from leaning over to ruffle his hair, earning himself a cute little whine in response that doesn’t fit with his muscular frame. 

“You know I have, you big baby. Almost as much as you miss your girlfriend.” The older winks, grinning at the way San’s face goes dark red at the mention of his new vet. 

“She’s not my girlfriend, hyung.” He pouts, fighting hard to keep the smile off his face. 

“Didn’t she give you her number the other day? She wants you to call her.” 

“For emergencies only.” San grumbles, turning his focus back on the machine, sounding both adorable and salty at the same time. 

“That’s not what she meant, and you know it. How many cat-related emergencies could possibly require her personal number? And I’m trying very hard not to make a pussy joke right now.” 

“Hyung!” San whines and even though Seonghwa can’t see his face anymore, the red spreading like fire across the younger’s ears and neck lets him know he’s hit his mark. 

“Trust me, she wants you to call her.” He chuckles before stepping back to go back into the office. “Now get that working before Mrs Lee comes in or you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“God, her handyman fetish is getting out of hand.” San laughs only for his eyebrows to excitedly shoot up at the sound of Seonghwa’s private phone ringing. “That Nova?” 

“No.” Seonghwa looks at the screen, confusion clear in his voice. “It’s her boss.” 

“Why’s her boss calling you?” 

“I don’t know.” The older frowns, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hello, Minho-shi?” 

“Hey, Seonghwa-shi. I’m sorry to bother you at work and this might sound strange, but have you heard from your girlfriend at all today?” 

“Um, no.” Seonghwa says, taking a step away from San who keeps staring at him to be able to focus fully on the call. “No, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” 

“It might be nothing, but she promised she’d check in with me twice a day when she’s home but when I woke up, she hadn’t checked in last night, and she’s not picking up her phone when I try calling her.” 

“Oh… Well, maybe she just forgot? She has been a little off lately so I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what’s happened.” Seonghwa says but there’s something inside him that doesn’t want to believe that, and Minho’s hesitant silence is doing nothing to calm the weird feeling settling in his chest. 

“Maybe.” Your boss says after a beat, but Seonghwa can tell the man is holding something back. 

“But you don’t think so?” 

“Look, it’s not my place to say anything about it, but I think you should try and check on her as soon as possible.” 

“Minho-shi, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?” Seonghwa is starting to get agitated now, the weird feeling has started to burn his insides, and in his peripheral, he can see San get up from the floor, his face set with worry as he watches the conversation. 

“Look, she’s probably alright and I’m overthinking, but she’s been struggling mentally lately and I’m worried. That’s all I can say.” Minho sighs, and Seonghwa has never wanted to yell at anyone this much before but knowing it won’t help anything he manages to restrain himself. 

“Alright, I’ll call her. Thanks.” He barely manages to get the terse words out, and he can tell his tone jolts both Minho and San because the silence coming from both is deafening and Seonghwa hangs up the phone without another word. 

“Is everything okay?” San asks, walking up to the older as he works to locate your number in his phone. 

“I’m not sure but I’m going to find out.” Seonghwa says through gritted teeth, listening to the dial tones go through without you picking up the phone. 

He calls again. 

And again. 

No answer. 

San watches his friend get more and more agitated the longer you go without picking up and while Hwa keeps sending you texts, he’s all but running into the office to grab his hoodie and wallet only to have San join him. 

“I’m driving you.” The younger says, pulling his jacket from the coat hanger by the door while checking that his car keys are still in the pocket. 

“But the gym-” 

“Changbin can keep an eye on it. Let’s go.” 

The younger’s words are decisive in a way Seonghwa hasn’t heard before, but he supposes it was inevitable for San to not pick it up while he was away, and he’s eternally grateful to his friend for not letting his mind focus on anything that isn’t you.

The ride to your apartment is a fast one. Rush hour is over since about an hour and the streets are thankfully not busy, and although San has never been to your place before, he takes the directions to it perfectly. 

Seonghwa doesn’t even have to tell him where to park: San just pulls up to the curb in front of your apartment building, the look he sends his hyung is one of “I'll eat a ticket if I have to”. 

The older takes the lead into the building and up to your floor, both of them taking the stairs three steps at a time and Seonghwa’s racing pulse has nothing to do with the physical activity. 

He checks his phone again as he sprints up the stairs, praying that you’ve reached out to him, and he’s just missed it even though it’s impossible. The phone has been in his hand, and he hasn’t let the screensaver come on since they left the gym so there’s just no way. 

There’s no music coming from your apartment and Seonghwa doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad sign, but at least he does know you’ll hear the doorbell when he starts ringing it and he’s not ashamed to say he’s doing it quite frantically. 

The incessant ringing shakes you from your sleep.  

You don’t even know when you fell asleep but you’re sitting on the floor, your back leaning against the couch, and from the pins and needles in your legs you’ve been like this for a while. 

Bleary eyed you manage to locate your phone, your half-asleep brain blaming it as the cause of the ringing but the lifeless black screen staring back at you manages to knock that thought out of your head. 

It’s the knocking that finally registers.  

Hurried knocks that turn into pounding on your poor door and you scramble towards it on half-dead legs to stop whoever’s causing the ruckus from knocking down the door and getting you evicted. 

He’s pale. 

Out of breath. 

His fist is raised, frozen in the process of raining down more blows to your poor door as his frantic eyes lock onto you. 

Any crumb of sleep still in your system is washed away by the ice water crashing over you at the sight of him. 

He’s here. 

Unannounced. 

He's here.

“Nova?” He says, watching you freeze, eyes as wide and frantic as his own. “Nova, are you okay?” 

Go away. You're not supposed to be here. Go away.

“Hwa?” You manage to croak, throat closing up as the panic starts stinging your insides. “What are you doing here?” 

“Minho called.” Seonghwa says, making his voice as soft as he can, wanting to get closer but the way you look like a cornered prey has him staying where he is. “He was worried about you.” 

He briefly glances back at San when you won’t respond, the younger looking about as worried and confused as Seonghwa feels. 

“What time is it?” You ask, voice so breathy it’s almost hard to hear. 

“It’s like 9 something…” Seonghwa watches you as your actual name slips from his lips, the lack of his beautiful nickname for you more jarring than anything else about the situation. “Are you okay?” 

“You can’t be here.” You say suddenly, pulling the door closed until you’re barely visible in the doorway, wild eyes flicking between your boyfriend and San who you just realize is also here. “You need to leave.” 

“Not until I know you’re safe.” Seonghwa says gently and as much as he wants to tear the door open to keep it from separating you from him, he manages to keep himself calm. 

“Please, Hwa.” You whisper, unshed tears making you choke as you begin shaking and you know he can tell. “Please don’t do this.” 

“Hyung,” San says softly, stepping up to his friend with a hand on his shoulder. “Should I go wait downstairs?” 

Seonghwa barely thinks before he nods, realizing that the other man’s presence likely isn’t helping you calm down. 

“Nova.” Seonghwa says, his voice purposefully level as he takes a small step closer, his heart aching at the way you make yourself even smaller in the doorway at the movement and hating the angle he’s about to use against you. “Are you alone in there?” 

He’s glad San has left because just imagining the judgement the younger would be shooting at him at his words is giving him chills, and the way your bloodshot eyes widen makes him feel like an absolute asshole. 

“W-what?” You stammer, blinking at him like a dear in the headlights. 

“Is there someone in there you don’t want me to see?” He asks, hating the way tears spring into your eyes but he really can’t think of any other way for you to let him inside. 

“N-no, of course not.” You say, tone a little frantic as your grip on the door loosens, your body instinctively moving towards him. “No one’s here.” 

“Then can you let me inside? Please, Nova.” He begs, making his eyes as big and vulnerable as possible, taking a page out of Wooyoung’s book, and he hates that it works. “I just need to see for myself.” 

The breath you take looks almost painful, your eyes squeezing shut as you seem at war with yourself about what to do. 

“If I do-” You have to take a beat to keep a sob down, your bloodshot eyes pleading up at him. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything. If you want nothing to do with me again, just… Don’t say anything and just walk out. Okay?” 

Seonghwa can’t imagine anything on the other side of that door that could make him walk away from you. Even if there WAS another man in there with you (he knows there never would be), he’d at least hear you out, however weak that might make him. But he doesn’t tell you that, only nods as he does his best to project a calm he doesn’t feel. 

“I promise.” 

You hesitate for another moment, bracing yourself for the inevitable end.  

The end of your denial. 

The end of your relationship. 

The end of what little happiness you have in your life, and you open the door. 

He doesn’t rush in like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind. Instead, he waits patiently for you to step aside before he makes his way inside, unrushed and looking like there is nothing strange about this situation whatsoever. 

Your body shakes with the anxiety thumping through your system and you walk past him further into the apartment, unable to even look at him as he takes in the dysfunction that mirrors your mind. 

You can hear him take off his shoes by the door, but you don’t understand why. Not only because your space doesn’t deserve the respect, but because you can’t imagine seeing the inside of your home and choosing to take off the only protection you have against the grime and the mess. 

He follows you further into the apartment, completely unhurried as he looks around, taking in the old take away boxes, dust bunnies, stains, dirt, clothes, and miscellaneous items that don’t belong in the room. 

The silence is deafening and it’s only when you audibly wince from picking your nailbed bloody that his attention shifts to you, the calm in his eyes gone as he rakes them over you to see what happened. 

“I’m fine.” You lie, shoving your hands in the pockets of your sweatpants to hide the evidence but he’s too quick not to notice, just like he notices everything. 

“Nova.” He says as he gets closer, his voice washing over you but while it usually calms you, now it instead makes you cry from how unworthy you feel of the love in it. “Can you show me your hands, please?” 

You can’t answer.  

Every emotion, every anxious thought, every dark sliver of doubt you’ve pushed down, is blocking your throat and threatening to burst out of you, and all you can do is shake your head violently in a pathetic attempt to dissuade him from digging further. 

This time he doesn’t ask, simply grasps your wrists in a hold strong enough for keep you from pulling away and yet soft enough to not hurt you. 

His thumbs gently rub the backs of your hands, and the loving touch has you turning your face away, unable to look at him as the shame cripples you. 

You can feel his hands twitch around yours when he sees the blood, but when he lifts them to press the gentlest of kisses to the backs of them, you can’t help but sob. 

“I’m sorry.” You cry, staring down at your feet while the tears blur your vision as they drop to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Hwa. I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Seonghwa whispers, tears flowing down his own cheeks as he pulls you into his arms, one hand at the back of your head as his other pulls you closer to him, whispering your name in between gentle kisses to your hair. “Do you hear me? Nothing whatsoever.” 

“I lied to you!” You wail into his chest, that godforsaken dam finally breaking as you cling to him like a raft in the middle of a raging sea. “I’m not okay!” 

“I know.” He squeezes you tighter, his tears disappearing into your hair as he presses his lips to your head, too afraid to let go for even a second as he ever so slightly rocks you in his arms. “I know, but I’m here now. I’m here and I’m not going to let anything hurt you anymore. I promise.” 

“You can’t promise that.” You sob, tears soaking his hoodie as your bloody nails dig into his back, every fiber of your being screaming at you that you don’t deserve him yet you’re too much of a coward to let go. “Once you- Once you realize how fucked up I am you won’t stay. I know you won’t.” 

He flinches in your hold and it’s only now that you realize the way his body trembles ever so slightly against you, the tears he’s been unable to hold back becoming obvious in the way he breathes through the silent sniffs and sobs. 

“Is it about the mess?” He asks and you can finally hear the tears in his voice, hating yourself for being the one to hurt him like this. 

“Yes.” You manage to wiggle a hand between you to wipe your eyes when the overflow of tears is starting to sting them. “Maybe, at least partially. You don’t deserve this shit.” 

“Did you really think I’d walk out on you over a messy apartment?” He asks and there’s an air of a chuckle in there that you can’t for the life of you understand where it comes from. 

He should be upset at you. Not chuckling. 

“It’s not just the apartment.” You can’t help but grumble, as if the volume on your anxiety has been turned down a bit by the hint of levity from your boyfriend. “I’m a fucking wreck. I can’t take care of myself, can’t keep my home clean even if my life depended on it, can’t feel anything anymore, and on top of that, Minho thinks I can’t do my job anymore.” 

“Now, that last one we both know isn’t true, right? He wouldn’t care enough to call me to check up on you if you sucked at your job.” 

“Jesus, you guys have barely met!” You groan, Seonghwa’s comment eerily similar to the one Minho made about him. 

“He’s an easy man to read.” Your boyfriend actually gives a full chuckle this time, stroking your hair as he watches you pull back to finally look at him with a slight roll of your red eyes. 

“You’re literally the only one who thinks that.” 

“I’m not breaking up with you.” He continues as if that will do anything to silence the siren song of despair in your head. “Not over the apartment. Not over your mental health. Not over anything, do you hear?” 

“Hwa, you’re not listening-” 

“No, you’ve not been listening, Nova.” He says, voice turning a loving kind of stern you’ve never heard before but can’t say you’re completely against. “You think it’s a secret that you can’t keep things tidy to save your life? It’s not. You think I haven’t seen the way your mind plays its evil tricks on you? The way you overthink and strive for perfection only to fall apart when you realize you’re human just like the rest of us?” 

His hands move to cup your face, your cheeks wet with fresh tears as he looks at you with the softest, kindest eyes anyone could ever ask for. 

“I’ve seen the signs of all these things, I saw them before we even started dating and I still chose to be with you. Shouldn’t that tell you something?” He asks, thumbs brushing the salt away even though the tears show no sign of stopping. 

“That you don’t know what you deserve.” You whisper but the way he looks at you makes it increasingly harder to fully believe the things your mind has been telling you lately. 

“I deserve you.” He presses, not unkindly, a gentle smile on his lips when his words strike at the heart of your insecurities. “And I would say you deserve better than me but you’d probably punch me, so I won’t.” 

“I wouldn’t punch you.” You grumble with the hint of a pout, and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute you’re being even when you’ve torn your heart and soul open for him to see. 

“No, you’d just pinch me to death, wouldn’t you?” 

It’s basically permission for you to do it and even though it’s weak, the way you pinch at his waist eases the pressure over Seonghwa’s chest. 

“And to set the record straight: I couldn’t date someone as neat as me. I’m already working with near OCD-levels of tidiness, having someone who’s the same way would push me into seriously unhealthy territory.” 

“But this place-” 

“Has gotten away from you.” He stops you from starting down a new spiral. “Even I would be overwhelmed at this level, I’m actually surprised you’ve been able to keep yourself afloat for this long. But you’re not alone anymore. I’m with you every step of the way.” 

“I’m scared, Hwa.” You whisper, looking up at him with a level of honesty and vulnerability that feels alarmingly novel. “I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realize you’ve made a mistake by loving me.” 

“That’s never going to happen.” He says softly, leaning forward to press a long, gentle kiss to your lips, pouring all of his love and assurance into it. 

“How do you know?” You can’t help but ask, cursing the way you can’t just let your walls come down completely at his reassurance. 

“I told you: I knew who you were from the start.” He says, watching the way your eyes flutter closed at the way his hands caress your face once more. “Besides, novas are born from chaos, and out of that chaos comes extraordinary beauty, able to outshine galaxies with their light. Just like you.” 

“The effects of them can be devastating if you get too close.” You whisper, his beautiful words bringing tears to your eyes once more. 

“They can also trigger new star formations.” He whispers back, leaning his forehead against yours, tears shining in his own beautiful eyes. “Let me be your star, Nova.” 

You breathe his air, heart racing as you take in the utter sincerity and vulnerability in his eyes and the way his breath stutters when you bring your own hands to caress his face. 

“To the moon and back.” You lead. 

“And even further still.” He follows. 

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