hadesforpreswrites

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THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

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"Do you want to come in?"

Noah blinked, surprise momentarily flickering in his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t full, rather it was lopsided- mirroring his gaze as a sign of uncertainty.

"I... uh," he stammered, taken aback by the invitation.

You gave him an encouraging nod, "It's late, and it's raining. Plus..." you shrugged nonchalantly, the tremble in your voice betraying you, "I have better coffee than the pub?"

"Alright then," Noah agreed softly, unbuckling his seatbelt and following you out into the rain-soaked street.

Both of you hurried towards the entrance of the apartment building, as if afraid to get wet in already soaked clothes.

Unlocking the door to your space, you ushered him through the foyer into a small but cozy living room scattered with remnants of life; photographs, half-read books, and an assortment of handpicked knick-knacks.

He moved around awkwardly, rubbing his nape while looking at one wall almost obsessively. Noah stopped before a collection of pictures pinned to a corkboard, his gaze lingering on an old high school photograph of you two embracing amidst carnival chaos, his arm securely around your waist.

"It's not as bad as it looks," you finally broke the silence, nodding at the room shyly. He simply chuckled in response before turning back toward you.

"No... It's great," he countered, assuring you with a soft smile. "Feels like you."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Wait here," you quickly added before escaping into the kitchen area to make the coffee.

His voice filtered in from the living room as he continued his explorations, "You've been with Erin for so long, yet it doesn't look like he ever lived here."

With your back turned to him, you allowed the small, rueful smile to grace your lips. "I guess I never let him really move in," you admitted quietly, “Plus, got rid of what was left pretty quickly.”

In the following silence, you could almost hear his pondering. You came back out carrying two steaming mugs of coffee and found him still standing by the corkboard. His gaze was gentle as he traced over each photograph, letting the memories associated with them wash over him.

He thanked you for the coffee as he took a sip, approvingly humming at the taste.

“Oh, I’ll grab you something else to wear, so I can put your clothes in the dryer. I think I have a hoodie and some shorts that might fit you.”

"Thanks," he nodded, appreciating the offer. As you disappeared to fetch the clothes, Noah trailed his fingers over the old photo at the carnival one last time before turning his attention to the warm mug in his hands.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear you reenter the room until you set a pile of clothing on the armrest next to him. He blinked, bringing himself back to reality with a sheepish grin.

"I can, um, change in the bathroom?" He asked, already gathering the borrowed clothes up in his arms. Your heart fluttered with an unfamiliar affection at this Noah- careful, considerate, and oh so different than the boy from your high school years.

"Sure," you nodded, pointing him towards the hallway. "Down there, first door on your left."

You went to change yourself, putting on some sweats and a hoodie. Your mind raced with everything that happened, and as you opened your bedroom door you almost ran into Noah coming out of the bathroom.

His appearance startled you, and you found yourself taken aback by how even the act of changing into a simple sweater and shorts could make him look so alluring. He looked different somehow—his dark hair tousled from the rain with drips still trickling down his neck, eyes softer, and a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. The hoodie was a little tight on his broad shoulders, his tattooed arms peeking out from under the slightly short sleeves.

"Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he stepped aside to let you pass.

"No worries," you responded quickly, smiling at him in return.

He then looked passed you, into the room you came from. “That your bedroom?”

"Yeah," you chuckled lightly.

It seemed strange having Noah here in your apartment, standing in your hallway, looking into your room. You dreamed of things like this for years; that now it felt unreal.

His face softened considerably as his gaze met yours again, a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Can I take a look?” he asked, and you nodded silently.

You watched him walk towards your room with an almost reverent gentleness in his steps. From outside, you observed him taking in all the little details; from the neatly stacked books on your bedside drawer to the comfortable cushions spread across the bed.

"It's...nice." Noah commented after a moment, before his eyes landed on a pile of items beneath your night stand. “Wait…You still have this?”

The brunette bent down, reaching for the plastic case.

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” You laughed quietly, walking up to him slowly to admire the memory.

Noah glanced at you quickly, chewing the inside of his cheek as he opened up the CD case, trailing his fingers over the dust and years of scratches, “Looks like you havent played it in a while.”

All you could do was shrug at his comment, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater nervously.

"Slow Dance Surprise" he read the words on top of the disc aloud, a soft smile spreading across his features. "I remember making this for you the summer we left our first year of high school."

Comparatively, you smiled softly at the memory. "Every teenage girl's dream," you bantered lightly, "A mixtape from her long-time friend."

"Crush," Noah corrected with a playful bump to your shoulder.

“Crush," you echoed, admiring the light blush that was creeping onto his cheeks.

Taking the CD out he placed it in the old player on your night stand, pressing play. The fact it even turned on surprised you.

An old track began to play- the familiar tune of a song that had once echoed through your room on hundreds of school nights.

Now, it stretched across the room, relishing in the nostalgia of you and Noah together, once again.

"Would you...like to dance?" He asked, placing the case gently on your nighstand and extending a hand towards you. His movements were gentle; his gaze never leaving your face, silently pleading for you to take his lead.

A mischievous smile quirked at your lips as you reached out to take his hand. "To your high school playlist? You sure about that?"

His arm snaked around your waist, drawing you towards him with an ease that only familiarity could bring. His hand felt warm against your back as you slowly swayed together in rhythm with the old track, a peaceful comfort wrapping around you both.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Long shadows danced on the walls as your bodies moved through the dimly lit room.

His lips were tantalizingly close, brushing ever so slightly against yours during the quieter moments of the melody. Your heart pounded against your ribcage in an echo of your growing anticipation that became more and more difficult to suppress as moments slipped into minutes.

His voice was soft when he whispered into your ear, "This feels right."

And to be honest, it did.

It felt like a puzzle piece finding its rightful spot after being misplaced for years.

The song changed then, the bittersweet nostalgia of the first melody replaced by a throbbing rhythm that was just as familiar.

"Remember this one?" Noah muttered against your forehead, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

You smiled, recalling the endless nights you spent dissecting the lyrics- wondering if he had put this on the CD to tell you something.

"You always insisted this song meant nothing," you chuckled, recalling your teenage self's futile attempts to understand his intentions. "Just liked the beat," you mimicked his past self, lifting an eyebrow playfully.

He laughed; a sound so genuine it warmed you from the inside out.

"I lied," he admitted, tightening his grip around your waist.

“Glad to know I wasn’t crazy.”

"You weren't, I promise," he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. Suddenly, his thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away an errant tear you hadn't noticed had escaped. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"Yes," you whispered. You let go of a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and wrapped your arms more tightly around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Good," he murmured into the soft silence of the room, his scent filling your senses and making your heart flutter.

You closed your eyes then, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation of being so close to him, after all this time. It felt weird, chaotic, and messy; all while entangling your heart into a beat of amenity.

Until he put his lips on yours again.

You melted into his kiss, surrendering your senses entirely to him; allowing the mix of feelings dance off your tongue and onto his.

His fingers combed through your damp hair, deepening your shared rhythm as if each drawn breath was woven together between years of intimate silence.

It wasn’t long before he slowly pushed you back against the wall, both of your hands beginning to test the boundaries.

Noah’s fingers gripped your waist as his hips pressed against you, his teeth grazing on your lips hungrily.

An ever-growing need filled your throat as you reached up to rake your fingers through his dark locks.

"Tell me this is happening," Noah murmured against your lips as he tried to catch his breath, trailing kisses along the line of your jaw down to your neck. His words tickled your skin, a searing imprint of his vulnerability that made you swallow back a whimper.

"It is," You reassured him with sincerity laced in your voice.

“Tell me you want this to happen.” He whispered as his fingers teased the bottom of your hoodie, nails gently dragging across the skin of your stomach and tugging the fabric upward, slowly.

“I do,” You nodded as you kissed him.

There was a series of soft kisses before Noah's lips found yours again, a tender caress that left you breathless. His fingers inched higher, the cool touch of his skin against your bare waist, enigmatic.

Suddenly, he faltered, his kisses slowing as realization dawned on him. "Are you sure?" He breathed, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Yes," You whispered ensuring him once again, touching his stubbled cheek lightly with a trembling hand, "I've never been more certain."

He then sighed into the kiss, as if all the apprehension of the last several years was being released in that single breath. Pressed so closely against him, you could feel his heart's erratic rhythm under your fingertips. His grip on your waist tightened as he drew you deeper into the kiss, pulling you towards your bed.

"I need you," he barely muttered against your skin as your sweater was thrown to the floor, then his.

His desperation echoed through every strained word, every heavy breath.

“I need you too, Noah. I’ve always needed you.”

He crawled over you, laying on his back as he pulled you on top of him. Straddling his waist, you leaned down to kiss him hungrily again, placing your hands against his bare chest.

You rolled your hips as his hands guided the motion, until Noah tugged at your waistband, pulling the grey fabric down your hips as his fingers kneaded the skin below.

“I’ve dreamed of seeing you this way for years.” He breathlessly laughed, eyes scanning your body with half lidded eyes, before passing you a slutty grin. As you helped him tug the sweatpants fully off, your face warmed.

Naked under his intense gaze, you pulled him closer to you again, your mouth finding his. His fingers traced lines of fire as they roamed your body, a map he hadn’t discovered before but seemed all too eager to explore now.

His hand then settled between your thighs as you straddled him, rubbing circles against the skin that had him straining hard against the shorts he wore.

Noah's name fell from your lips in a pleading whisper muffled by his mouth moving over yours. His fingers moved delicately inside of you, painfully slow yet agonizingly just what you needed.

"Touch me," Noah murmured into your ear, his voice shaking with desire. It was the boldest he'd been thus far, the echoing ache in his voice mirroring the pooling warmth between your legs. Complying, you nipped down at his lower lip before trailing kisses down his throat, your hand tracing over the muscles of his chest. He groaned under your touch, but it was the sudden need in his gaze that coaxed you further.

His shorts were discarded onto the floor, joining your clothes with an ease that spoke volumes about your shared desperation and longing.

His hands quickly found their way to your waist again, gripping tightly as if he needed to anchor himself to reality.

"God..." Noah moaned against your ear, his voice barely more than a husky whisper. You licked your fingers before trailing them up and down his arousal, coaxing another sound from him.

"Your hands feel so good,” He whispered, rutting into your grasp as you began stroking him up and down in a rhythmic motion. “Turn around.”

“What?” You asked, meeting his half lidded gaze as he rutted his hips into your hand.

“Turn around so I can eat you out.”

His request came unexpected. Your eyes widened slightly at his words before warmth rose to your cheeks. He chuckled at your adorable reaction, brushing away a tendril of hair that had fallen onto your forehead.

"Unless... Unless you don't want to," he added quickly, worry flickering in his brown gaze, “I just really want to taste you.”

You bit your lower lip, mulling over his proposal.

"I-- I do want... that," you stammered, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

Turning around, you backed up till you were inches away from sitting on his face; his own desire right by your mouth. Noah’s breath was warm as it brushed against your core, the soft string of swears that left his mouth making your arousal pool with need.

With inked fingers gripping your hips, he pulled you down onto his mouth- his tongue immediately licking a strip between your folds.

“Oh-” you whispered, subconsciously pressing back into his mouth as he began to suck on the delicate skin.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, earning a groan from you as he sunk a finger into your body.

“Mmhmm,” You mumbled, brows furrowing as you then took his cock into your mouth, attempting to do your best with the angle, and while pleasure rushed through you.

Each lick and suck against you made coherent thought difficult. Noah was undeniably good, his clever tongue managing to find every sensitive spot whilst his fingers explored deeper inside you. His own moans from your hesitant mouth-work vibrated against your core, adding another layer of sensation that had you coming undone.

He groaned at your actions, sending a vibration through you that made you shudder. His hips began to buck upward into your mouth as you swirled your tongue along his tip.

"Fuck," Noah muttered against your inner thigh, pulling away from your core briefly as he began to pant. Pleasure rippled through you in waves, your teeth slightly grazing against him; barely there touches eliciting a soft grunt from him as he pressed his face deeper between your thighs.

“S-stop,” He whispered, “I’m gonna cum if you keep going.”

You hummed, gagging on him once more before pulling off. “Would that be so bad?”

He chuckled lowly as he licked another strip along your arousal, “No. But I want to cum from being inside your pussy the first time- not your mouth.”

His words triggered something deep within you, a surge of longing that clenched your body tight. "I want that too," you admitted breathlessly, the pooled wetness between your thighs acting as testament to your statement.

With a hasty nod, Noah immediately pulled you off him and flipped you over, his eager fingers trailing along your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His length pressed against you in an intimate promise, and he looked at you once more time before pushing inside.

A soft gasp broke the room's heavy silence, but it was unclear whether the sound came from him or you. His head fell down onto your shoulder, hot puffs of air hitting the skin there as he struggled to stay composed.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, chewing on the skin of your collarbone, “You feel so fucking good.”

A low groan vibrated from his throat as he stilled for a moment, allowing you time to adjust to his body, and him yours.

“I need you to show me how much you regretted not making me yours all those years ago.” You said as your fingers raked down his back.

Noah scoffed, meeting your gaze as he began to thrust slowly into your body, picking up pace with each stride. “Then I’m going to need to fuck you hundreds of more times. To make up for it.”

You watched him hang above you, each of Noah’s thrusts making your thighs shake against him.

He placed a thumb against your clit, lightly tracing circles to match his pace as his desire slid between your folds. You stared at him watching where the two of you connected, eyes heavy as he chanted your name with praises.

“Y-your cock is so good,” You cried, clinging to his skin.

"Yeah?" he groaned, gaze flitting from your eyes briefly before back down to your arousal. "Tell me more," he coaxed, a dark chuckle echoing from his throat. His rhythm picked up, relentless thrusts that had your back arching off the mattress, wordless cries tearing from your lips.

"Can't... can't think," you whimpered, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as you fought to keep up with the pace he was setting.

Noah's free hand was suddenly in your hair, tangling in the messy locks as he tugged your head back to expose your throat. His tongue then traced a burning path from your collarbone up to the pulse point at the base of your neck, sinking his teeth into the delicate skin with a soft growl.

"Gonna mark you," he promised between labored breaths as white-hot pleasure rippled through your body. "You're mine now. Until I die."

Another thrust - this one deeper, more deliberate. His breath hitched before letting out another restrained moan, his lips brushing against the mark that began forming on your neck.

"I thought you'd be the best thing I'd ever have and- god, you are." He whispered.

"More, Noah," your voice echoed in the room, raw with need. Your hand found one of his, intertwining your fingers together as he kept pushing into you, his free hand circling your clit faster.

Heavy pants echoed through the room as he shifted slightly to grant you more depth, a change that drew another soft sound from throats tangled in the melody of wanting.

"So good," he murmured raggedly between gasps for breath, “I-I’m close.”

Your abdomen clenched as your own climax grew, threatening for release.

“Cum in me,” You begged, his eyes locking with yours immediately.

“W-what?” The brunette’s brows furrowed with desperation and hunger at your words, despite the uncertainty.

You nodded, biting your lip as you held onto your orgasm for a moment longer, “Please Noah, I need your cum inside of me. Make me yours, as I always have been.”

Your words shattered him.

A guttural groan tore from his throat as his lips crashed into yours, desperate, claiming. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he growled, stroked ragged and deep. “You’re mine.”

That was all it took.

Your body broke apart beneath him, pleasure curling through your spine as you came around him- trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. His moans laced with yours, raw and wrecked, until his final thrust stilled, hands clutching you like he’d drown without the anchor of your skin.

“I love you,” Noah choked out through a cracked voice, his breath trembling.

You kissed him, hard and needy- almost breaking under the weight of the words. Somehow all the years of pain, memories, silence, what-ifs and aching distance, had led here. And suddenly, they felt worth it.

Because in the end… It was always him.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

His hand slid to your cheek, forehead against yours with a thumb tracing your lips, like he still couldn’t believe you were really here.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

“I love you,” you breathed, smiling through the tears you hadn’t realized were there.

And for the first time in forever, you weren’t waiting anymore, and neither was he.

You had him, just as he had you.

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THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

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You hadn’t anticipated him being at the pub as you walked in. It had been years since you last saw him, and surely many more since he last thought of you.

Yet, when you followed the server to your designated booth, only to pass his- his gaze latched onto yours. Your lips parted with recognition, heart immediately racing when his smile made way to his eyes.

It was hard to decide whether to stop amidst the bustling tables and scattered voices in the restaurant; but when he reached out his hand to touch your arm, hesitating for a mere moment before turning it into a subtle wave- you stopped.

"Noah?" you breathed his name as he took in your face with his dark eyes, unsure whether he was searching or reminiscing over past memories. You glanced at the others at his table, offering a brief nod before looking back at him shyly. He chuckled softly, disbelief colouring his expression, as he leaned his elbow on the chair's headrest.

"Date night?" he asked, his gaze shifting to the man behind you, prompting an awkward cough as you stepped aside, letting your friend join in. Shaking your head while exchanging a glance with the hostess at your booth, you laughed nervously and looked away from Noah.

"No-just drinks with friends." Your mind spiraled with the accusation, and the hint of something lingering within his words tugged at your throat.

The brunette noticed you fidgeting with your sweater sleeve and nodded, "Well, it's nice to see you. It's been a long time."

Meeting his stare, you offered a stiff yet warm smile, "Yeah, it has."

You glanced at the hostess again, apologetically raising your hand before heading toward your booth, leaving behind the tangled threads of old emotions. "I—I shouldn't keep her waiting. Nice seeing you, too."

As you walked away, there was an unspoken sentiment that seemed to surge between you two. You felt Noah's gaze linger on your retreating form, and despite the peculiar stirring of forgotten feelings, you were gently cocooned back into the familiarity of your friends’ laughter as you slid into the worn leather of the booth.

You tried to shake off the flush of surprise that still heated your cheeks, and across from you, your friend observed the disarray with a curious gaze, his brows furrowing as he leaned in.

"You okay?" he asked, dropping his voice so the clamor of the pub's crowd swallowed his words.

You met his eyes and nodded stiffly. "Yes, just... haven't seen him in a long time."

"I can see that," your friend responded, his gaze flicking momentarily in the direction you had come from, then returning to you with a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was a gentle tease, immediately soothing away the tension that knotted your heart.

Across the room, a new round of drinks arrived at Noah’s table, followed by a chorus of laughter. Glancing over, you watched as he lifted his glass in a toast, his gaze straying once again towards your booth. The soft glow from the pub lights made his features appear less harsh than you remembered, shaping half-forgotten memories into something akin to nostalgia.

"Old flame?" Your friend's words snapped you back from your thoughts. There was a taunting lightness in his tone that said he guessed more than what he dared to ask outright.

"Something like that," you admitted, idly toying with the flimsy drink coaster before you.

"He never really left your thoughts, did he?" His words tinged with curiosity.

Your face warmed at his comment, subconsciously glancing over at Noah once more as if to confirm something you hadn't voiced out loud in years.

"Not really," You confessed, heart clenching as you sucked in a breath- something that felt harder to do now that Noah kept flicking his eyes back to your table.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with your drinks; a timely distraction. But as jokes flitted across your table and ice clinked in your cocktail, a shadow of melancholy slipped into your chest.

Your friend's voice cut through the low hum of pub conversations, contrasting the bought of laughter from Noah’s table. “Did you ever date?” He asked nonchalantly.

You gave him a curt shake of your head, savoring the tartness of your drink. “No," you replied, with a rueful smile.

"But you wanted to?"

His question was more a statement and you could only nod, the sudden knot in your throat making words impossible. He watched you in silence, allowing you a moment to regain your composure.

"He didn’t choose me," you finally managed, swirling your drink in your glass. "He liked someone else at the same time. Things were complicated.”

Your eyes scanned the pub's old wooden ceiling, following a vague pattern in its grooves as if it held answers. Suddenly feeling Noah’s gaze on you again, the tight fluttering in your chest resurfaced.

"Does it still feel complicated?" Your friend asked gently.

"Uh…No..." The lie came out hollow even to your ears, and the man across from you rolled his eyes.

"You're a terrible liar," he reproached lightly, reaching across the table to pat your hand, causing you to sigh.

"He is part of my past," you reasoned out loud, more for yourself than to convince your friend. “I moved on to date Erin, until well… you know…and as far as I know Noah is still with his girlfriend of three years.” The words fell heavy against the illuminating candlelight flickering in between the two of you.

"You don't hate him though?" He asked. A question you knew wasn't really a question.

"Hate him?" you shook your head as you scoffed, almost bitterly. “I tried to.”

Your fingers traced the outline of the coaster as you continued, "But hating him would have meant to forget all the good times- remove all the annoying memories of him that still seem to live in my mind. And...I didn’t want to do that. I don’t want to do that." you confessed, fighting the lump forming in your throat. "I'd rather remember and hurt than forget and feel hatred."

There was a pause as your friend digested your words, looking at you as if he were seeing a different side of you, one he never knew existed.

"But doesn't it just hurt," he began carefully, “to keep remembering?”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you watched the bubbles gently float to the top of your glass. "Sometimes," you admitted, turning your gaze back to Noah. His laughter echoed across the room, drowning out the music momentarily. A smile tugged at your lips unknowingly.

"Then why keep doing it?" he questioned further.

It was when Noah made another loud joke to his friends that he turned once again, meeting your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night- that you caved.

“Because the way he has looked at me never changed. Not through relationships, not through time apart- never. There is always that same annoying and infuriating look of hope.”

"Hope?" Your friend repeated, tilting his head as he wrapped his hand around his glass, fingers tapping lightly against the surface.

You nodded, stealing another glance at Noah. He was leaned back in his chair now, a relaxed smile on his face that countered your turmoil, unravelling you with every gaze he cast your way.

"It's the kind of hope that asks 'what if'," you explained, voice low and barely audible over the commotion of the pub around you. "What if things were different? What if we had chosen each other? Like an opportunity lost, but not entirely forgotten."

The man across from you was contemplative, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink before leaning in closer to you. "What does that look like? This hope you see in his eyes?"

You pondered over his question, swallowing thickly as you tried to form words that would make sense to him, let alone you.

“It’s like this lidded gaze- a soft shine of longing subdued by realism that has never entirely disappeared. It’s a look that says he still sees what he saw in me when we were just kids in high school- like I’m still important to him, in some way. It tells me he understands that even when it seemed like I moved on, he knows deep down that I really didn't. And neither did he. And it's not right. But it’s too late."

It was silent for a moment as you fought the water treading within your eyes, chugging the rest of your drink as a distraction.

"That's a lot to collect from a look," he said eventually, observing your flustered expression with raised brows.

"I’ve had a long time to think about it," you conceded with a shrug, ripping the edge of your coaster absently. But inside your chest, your heart beat a frantic rhythm that suggested it agreed with your words.

Your friend glanced towards your unease, watching how Noah pretended he was never really looking over at your table. "And if he weren't in a relationship now? If circumstances were… different?"

Your reply, when it came, was barely above a whisper. "Doesn’t matter," you lied, heart pounding against your ribs as the truth nudged at your denial.

"Even if things were different… he never chose me. Refused to. Told me he promised someone else his heart after high school."

"And you still hold it against him?" The question hung heavy in the air, though your friend's tone was light, almost indifferent.

"No," You denied, feeling a twinge of pain claw at your chest. "I suppose... I have come to terms with it. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to choose me. He never had that high school girl anyway, either. She moved on before him."

"But you haven't moved on." The words slipped from your friend’s lips as an affirmation. His gaze wandered back to Noah, where another round of laughter punctuated the air.

You stared at your empty glass, chewing on your lower lip as the silence festered. For a moment you considered denying it, but what use was there in pretending when the truth was palpable in every word?

"No," you sighed, looking back at Noah. "I guess not. Not really."

Your friend nodded understandingly, tossing back the remaining contents of his glass before placing it back onto the table.

“Well,” he started, and you turned to look at him as he refilled his drink from a bottle that had been ignored until now. “In this life, we rarely get second chances with things that truly matter.”

It was then Noah stood up from his table, turning to cross the room. His stride was slow, confident, a stark contrast to the unease in your chest. His eyes were on you, and you pretended not to notice. Your friend did, though.

A sudden feeling of dread crushed your heart as you followed his frame out of the corner of your eyes, the shadows stretching out on the worn-out wooden floorboards.

"Why is he heading here?" you whispered, not daring to voice your suspicion too loudly, as if to break the bubble surrounding both of you.

Your friend merely shrugged, a sly grin replacing his earlier curiosity. "No idea. But I am eager to find out," he said, leaning back into his chair and taking a sip from his drink, all whilst watching Noah’s approaching figure as though it were an intriguing spectacle. As Noah got closer, your pulse quickened its pace, pounding rhythmically against your chest while your mind raced in frantic circles.

He smiled at you for a moment before nodding at your friend, flicking his short brunette strands out of his eyes.

“Uh hey, my friend’s are about to head out…” He said, throwing a thumb back to the crew that was now throwing him half amused glances and thumbs-ups. He glanced back at you, "and I'd really appreciate the opportunity to catch up. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Your friend looked at you, your widened eyes meeting his amused gaze before he shrugged and gestured to the vacant seat next to him, sliding further into the booth, “By all means,” he invited.

“Thanks.” Noah nodded gratefully, taking the seat beside your friend, and now sitting across from you.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he added, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Not at all,” your friend assured him, though his eyebrows remained slightly arched.

You gripped your empty glass tighter in your hand, swallowing down the sudden dryness in your throat. “Yeah, Noah… it’s been forever,” you managed to croak out in what you hoped passed for casual indifference.

He flashed a quick smile at your words, his eyes crinkling around the edges. Beneath the guise of casual banter, the years that had passed were muffled whispers hidden in plain sight.

"Yes, it has been," Noah responded, while his gaze danced over you, "How’s life been treating you?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to cloak your nervousness under feigned ease. "Oh you know, ups and downs. Mostly well."

A smile played on your friend's lips, a look of knowing graced his features as he stared at the exchange between you two.

"Same here," Noah replied, sipping from his glass.

A skillfully avoided conversation unfolded between you, where inquiries about work and general well-being served as shields against the veiled curiosity itching to break free.

Your chest clenched again, and as the waitress came over to give you another drink, you took the opportunity to head to the washroom.

Your friend watched you rise from the booth, catching your eye in a silent exchange that offered reassurance. Noah politely nodded as you slipped out of the booth and disappeared into the crowd.

Locking the door behind you, you took a moment to collect yourself, splashing water on your face in an attempt to steady your racing heart.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how Noah just waltzed back into your life after all these years, bringing rainstorms of feelings you had worked so hard to forget- yet really didn’t.

In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, you saw a ghost of your younger self, the one who spent hours decoding Noah's glances and gestures. The one who would stay up late just to watch his favourite shows so you had something to talk about. The one who would wear his sweaters because he said they looked better on you. The one who obsessed over his lingering touch and flirty banter.

The one who was not good enough.

Overwhelm washed over you like cold water, stealing your breath. You pressed your palms onto the edge of the sink, clenching your jaw as you wrestled with the torrent of emotions that roared through your veins.

With a quiet sigh, you patted down your face with a rough paper towel and straightened your sweater. Ducking your head, you drew another deep breath.

This was just Noah. Just a boy from your past. Just Noah.

Slipping back into the booth, you offered them a small smile before turning towards Noah who seemed genuinely involved in the story your friend was narrating. The air was lighter now; there was an ease that settled around the table as rounds of laughter traveled between the three of you while your friend indulged Noah in stories about a mutual friend who had recently moved out of town. You took occasional sips from your drink, contributing where necessary while primarily focusing on observing the somewhat restrained interaction between Noah and your friend.

You welcomed the change in atmosphere. No sparks were flying around or deep murmurs floating in the air, nor heavy gazes locked onto each other. It was simple, casual – as mundane as any other night at the pub could have been.

Yet in the lulls of conversation, Noah's gaze met yours; keenly observant but surreptitiously so. There remained a certain intensity that made you uncomfortable and yet to evade it, felt unnatural. It was like there was an undercurrent running beneath his apparent nonchalance, manifesting as veiled glances and half-crafted jokes aimed to get that entrancing laugh from you.

“Guys, it’s been real, but I am gonna call it a night," your friend announced, a yawn stretching from his mouth.

"Already?" Noah questioned, sparing you a glance as though to silently ask whether you too were planning to leave.

"Got an early start tomorrow." Your friend assured, pushing himself out of the booth and giving a cheeky wink in your direction.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he left a void beside Noah, and a shiver of nervousness ran down your arms.

After bidding goodbye to him with an amused half-smile, Noah turned his attention back to you. His expression was unreadable, a cryptic mask that did nothing to ease your anxiety.

"Do you mind if I stay awhile longer?" He asked softly, his gaze meeting yours across the table.

You paused for a moment, finding your voice caught in the back of your throat. You could turn him away, tell him you'd rather be alone. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. You didn’t want him to go.

"No, not at all," you said, trying your best to sound as neutral as possible.

Noah shifted in his seat, leaning back with a distant look in his eyes before returning his gaze to you. His inked fingers drummed lightly against the wooden table top, suggesting a nervous energy beneath the seeming calm in his demeanor.

Shading his eyes with the back of his hand, Noah contemplated for a moment. “You know… life is strange sometimes,” he began haltingly and flashed a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

You quirked an eyebrow in question but did not interrupt, welcoming him to fill the silence that had fallen over the booth.

He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing the rim of his still fresh drink. "Sometimes," he started again, his october eyes fixing on yours, "we find ourselves living in a constant cycle of 'what ifs' and 'what could've beens'."

You swallowed hard as you tried to untangle his words. "And where has that cycle led you?"

Noah's gaze dropped from yours to his hands, "It led me here...sitting across from you after years, yet feeling as though I've never left." He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head a little. "It's funny how life works."

You found yourself nodding, the corners of your mouth twitching at his admission. "Life has a strange sense of humor, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does."

He took a sip of his drink, eyes twinkling under the dull bar lights. There was comfort in his silent observation; a mirroring dance between two people separated by years and experiences yet wound together by obscured ties.

"Can I ask you something?" Noah asked, his fingers idly drumming against the table's wooden surface.

Raising an eyebrow, you shrugged nonchalantly in response, not daring to trust your voice to betray the sudden discomfort stitching itself into your chest.

Taking your silence as approval, he leaned in, elbows resting on the table. A stray lock of hair fell onto his forehead as he leveled his gaze with yours. You took that moment to reminisce how long his hair used to be. Reminisce in the feeling of it tangled between your fingers when he asked you to play with it; or put it in a bun.

"Do you ever feel... like we missed out on something?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he feared someone might overhear the intimate nature of his question.

There was a moment's silence as you held his gaze, your heart hammering an erratic beat against your chest. Your mind raced to find a reply; a sentence that would adequately encase the pain, longing, and disappointment that had been the backdrop of your heart after Noah had been written out of it.

"Noah..." you breathed out, throat tightening.

"I mean," he hurriedly continued before you could voice any objection or sentiment, "it's just... Have you ever wondered how different our lives might've been if we..." He trailed off, seeming unsure of how to complete his tangled thought.

"...if I had chosen differently?" The last word of his sentence dissipated. His dark eyes were vulnerable, more than you remembered as they bore into yours.

"I..." You hesitated, stammering over your own words as an uncomfortable silence stretched between you two.

It was filled with unspoken regrets, unsaid words, and all those missed moments that formed a silent echo in your hearts.

"Yes," you finally admitted, sipping from your glass to wet your dry lips. "I have thought about it."

Noah let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders dropping with the release of tension. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze once more.

"But we can't rewrite the past, can we?" he said dryly, sipping from his glass.

"No, we can't," you agreed, your pulse dancing in your ears. You leaned back in the booth, turning your gaze away from Noah and towards the crowd of others around you. The music filled in the gap left by your silence.

"You know," Noah began again after a few moments, turning to face you fully, "I was happy to see you tonight."

"I'm...glad to know that," you replied uneasily.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt anxiously, taking in another breath. You watched as his fingers seemed to tremble, clawing at his tattooed neck. “I’ve missed you.”

You swallowed, nodding as you gave him a soft smile, “I’ve missed you too.”

And when it was silent again, neither of you could look at each other.

“So how’s Hannah?”

When you asked, his body stiffened momentarily before giving you a tight smile.

“We broke up a couple months ago,” He said, tilting his head to the side.

Your brows furrowed in an attempt to look sad; but the way your stomach began to spin in circles told a different story altogether.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, despite the fluttering inside you. “Hope things are better now.”

"Yeah," he gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. "Things happen. We're on good terms, so it’s alright."

Nodding, you waved the server over for another drink; this time asking for something stronger.

"Your turn," he gestured towards you with an encouraging smile. "How’s Erin?"

You didn’t miss the way your ex’s name sounded sour on Noah’s tongue.

"We broke up too," you admitted, finding solace as his reaction mirrored yours- surprise and awkwardness intermingled with a caring depth.

“I’m really shocked,” He said, blinking repeatedly before running his fingers through his hair, “You were together for eight years. Right since the end of high school.”

Nodding you chewed on the inside of your cheek,

"Yeah," you acknowledged, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips. "But things change, people change. I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Noah was silent for a moment. It wasn't hard to see the shock in his eyes as he processed your words- after all, he had known Erin too.

"You... okay?" he asked softly, daring to meet your gaze again.

Nodding, you shrugged slightly, "Yeah. Took some time but yeah, I am."

Neither of you said anything further then; the server arrived with your drinks and the concentrated clinks against the mugs filled up the silence. You thanked her with an absentminded nod before she retreated back into the crowd.

“Want to get out of here?”

Noah's question hung in the air, and you blinked, taken aback.

"Where to?" you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, the side of his lip twisting up in a lopsided smirk. "Somewhere quieter?"

You looked at him, heart thudding against your chest as you considered his offer. Whatever doubt resurfaced about this spontaneous venture was silenced by the surprising hope lighting up his eyes. The same, annoying, stubborn hope that seemed untouched by time. And perhaps it was enough to convince you to take that leap.

"Sure," you agreed reluctantly, avoiding eye contact as you slipped yourself out of the booth, placing some bills on the table next to your untouched drink.

The night felt different as you both stepped out of the pub and into the lightly lit streets. The breeze brushed past your face, carrying with it a scent of rain soon to come. Walking side by side, you could feel the palpable quiet weaving a comfortable cocoon around you.

"No regrets?" he murmured, hands slipped into his pockets as he glanced down at you.

"No regrets," you echoed, more to reassure your own trembling heart than to provide him with closure. He nodded, falling silent once more as your steps echoed against the cement streets.

“You never used to be this quiet,” Noah broke the silence, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “Couldn’t shut you up half the time.”

You laughed gently at that and glanced aside, “Well, life...” your voice trailed off, shrugging at your failed attempt at an explanation.

“I get it,” Noah hummed and nodded. He didn’t press for more; he never did, even back then.

A few paces ahead, Noah's car sat serenely below the dim glow of a streetlamp. As he unlocked the doors and you slid into the passenger seat your heart raced faster. It was just the two of you- after so long.

The soft hum of the car engine filled the small slice of your shared reality while Noah navigated through the late-night streets. Your eyes danced over the passing buildings and strangers walking, avoiding to look anywhere but at him.

Suddenly, he turned up the volume of the car's stereo, cutting through your contemplations. An old song wafted through the speakers, a whisper from years ago that wrapped around you both. The familiar melody made your heart twinge with nostalgia.

"Do you still like this song?" you said suddenly, blinking away unseen tears as you looked at the words slide across the small radio screen.

“I do,” He said softly, thumbs beginning to tap along to the melody.

A gentle smile pulled at your lips as the chorus began, your voice barely audible over the strumming of the guitar and drums. “We danced to it once. At that fundraiser thing.”

Noah glanced over at you, expression unreadable but the sparkle in his eyes betraying a mutual remembrance. "Yeah,” he murmured. “I remember.”

Memories began to float back, images flickering behind your damp eyes. That high school dance where you purposefully bought that floral pattern that made your skin pop- your eyeshadow contrasting the dark hues. Your hands were clammy as Noah approached you for a dance, saying it’s what ‘friends do’. You remembered the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your waist and back, delicately placed as if afraid you’d burn him- your hands resting behind his neck, while you two swayed.

I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.

You’re my wonderwall.

The song faded out, replaced by another unfamiliar one whose words became background noise to your racing thoughts. Noah’s inked knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as a sigh slipped out from between his lips.

“Um, we're here," Noah finally broke the silence. The car came to a halt, the engine purring low before dying out completely. You blinked in surprise, trying to figure out where you were.

Looking around, you noticed that you were parked on top of a hill overlooking the city. You could see all the lights twinkling like stars; the night sky framed by the silhouette of towering skyscrapers and flowing ribbon of highway tracers in the distance.

"Well, this is quieter indeed," you mumbled, mostly to yourself. A chuckle escaped Noah as he reclined back into his seat.

"Yes," he murmured looking out through the window at the shimmering spectacle below. “Remember when I used to tell you how people always made out up here? And then you told me you didn’t know how to use tongue? And then I used to tease you?”

You blushed, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the memory. "How could I forget?" You shook your head slightly, feeling more loosened now. "You never let me live that down."

"True," Noah chuckled, a reminiscent glint in his eyes. "I believe you also made me swear that I would never make out with anyone up here because it was so cliche."

You rolled your eyes at him, a grin tugging at your lips. “Sounds like something I’d say.”

"Was Erin your first kiss then?" He gently nudged a question into the silence.

"Yeah" you confessed after a moment's pause. His gaze flickered to yours, curiosity mixed with surprise evident, “I didn’t want to kiss anyone unless I loved them.”

He nodded slowly, processing your words. "That's... admirable," he concluded with a soft smile.

"Is it?" you muttered, feeling the warmth rise on your cheeks as you laughed, ready to pester him, “Because apparently it was a joke I couldn’t kiss with tongue due to lack of experience.”

"No, no," Noah chuckled, leaning back against the headrest of his seat, staring out at the cityscape. "I only teased because you were somehow so sure that tongues were not involved at all."

You laughed, the twinkling lights reflecting in your eyes. "Well, how was I supposed to know!?" You mockingly defended yourself, playfully punching him in the arm.

He laughed heartily, his voice echoing within the confined space of the car. His laughter was a warm sound, a comfort from distant memories that wrapped itself around your heart. It was something you didn’t know you missed so much.

Once his laughter had subsided into a chuckle, he looked at you for a moment too long. The intensity of his gaze took your breath away. You could see hints of affection and longing there- an open invitation to walk down memory lane yet again.

"I was a jerk then. I bet you turned out to be an amazing kisser."

Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at his words, and you found yourself turning away from his gaze, too flustered by the sudden compliment. He chuckled lightly, licking his lips briefly.

"Guess you'll never know," you retorted, burying your flaming face in your hands, “But no, not really.” you protested half-heartedly, looking out of the window to hide the warmth that was creeping up your neck.

"Still got that blush," he observed teasingly, causing your cheeks to burn even more fiercely.

"Shut up, Noah," you laughed it off, swatting at his arm. He raised his hands in a mock-surrender as another round of laughter echoed through the car. The space felt warmer, more familiar than what it had been just a few minutes ago.

The conversation lulled once again, filled with merely the hum of the cool evening breeze rustling the leaves outside and old tracks playing softly through the car's speakers.

"I used to come here after Hannah and I broke up... It helped me think."

The confession hung between you two, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked.

Noah was silent for a moment, the dim car light illuminating his face in an array of shadows.

"Because," he began slowly, "I think it's important for you to know. And it doesn't just remind me of her, it reminds me of what could have been- and what's no longer."

You nodded, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you turned your gaze to the cityscape below. It was beautiful, indeed.

Perhaps Noah had found solace in this beauty during his broken times.

Perhaps, right now, it was the sanctuary that you needed too.

"You never asked me why we broke up," Noah’s murmur brought you back from your thoughts.

"Why did you?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze shifted to meet yours, his chocolate eyes soft under the pale moonlight streaming into the car. "We fell out of love. Or maybe, I never even fully loved her."

For a moment, you were silent, digesting the harsh simplicity of his words.

"Love can be fleeting," you said softly, more to yourself than addressing Noah.

"No," he countered after a beat, "Love is constant. It's the people who are fleeting."

His sentiment hit a chord deep within you that resonated with your unspoken feelings.

"People change," you agreed, your fingertips brushing over the chill of your glass. "They grow...sometimes apart."

Noah hummed in response, his gaze distant as though lost in a maze of recollections. “Yes, we’ve changed, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” You mumbled, picking at the seam of your jeans.

“But I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. I didn’t even know at the time that I was in love.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at that moment, his words burning through your mind. Love. Loving you.

All that could be heard was the racing of your heart as your ears flooded with every panicked beat.

"You..." your voice faltered, unsure of how to respond. His gaze was relentless; not challenging you but pleading for understanding that you weren't quite sure how to give.

"Noah..." Your voice came out as a mere whisper, the name tumbling from your lips almost involuntarily, your mind still struggling to catch up with his declaration. He examined your expression in quiet apprehension, his hands clenched on his thighs.

"I mean it," he persisted, reaching over to gently cover your fidgety hand with his own larger one. His tattoos seemed even more prominent against your smooth skin - alive, just like the feelings that were coming alive in his presence. "Even though we’ve never been together... I don't know if I ever stopped thinking about you."

Your breath hitched as his words hung heavy in the air.

“I regret not choosing you. Every single day I’ve regretted fucking up the chance of us.”

Your heart raced in your chest, the thunderous pulse drowning out all other sounds. The feel of his warm hand on yours, the earnest look in his eyes- it was almost too much.

"Stop, Noah," you found yourself whispering, a plea more than a demand. His eyes flickered with hurt but he took his hand away nonetheless- an action that seemed to echo painfully around you.

He swallowed hard, leaning back against the car's seat while respectably creating distance. His gaze didn't leave yours, as if trying to convince you of the sincerity of his confession.

"I'm sorry," He apologized after what felt like eons, "I just... needed you to know."

“But you knew how I felt. All those years ago you fed into my feelings- when you knew. You knew I liked you- fuck, loved you. Which is pathetic because how do you know you love somebody you never even kissed, or hugged, or held hands with- at fifteen years old?” You sucked in a breath, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at your shoes but you blinked them away stubbornly. "But I knew. You knew.”

His hand twitched on the gear stick as though wanting to reach out to you once more, yet he restrained himself, a mask of remorse settling over his features.

"I didn’t know how to feel. I was confused. I thought I didn’t want to take the risk of losing you by dating you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought my feelings would disappear…that they were just an infatuation.”

You nodded slowly, a storm of unsettled emotions making your voice tremble, "But they didn't." It was not a question; it was a confirmation. One that stripped away any ambiguity still lingering between you.

"No," he agreed with a shaky sigh, “Sometimes I wish they did.”

You laughed bitterly, sniffing, “I wish they did too. Because I just spent eight years in a relationship secretly wondering ‘what if Noah chose me instead’. ‘Why do I still love him’, ‘Why do I feel this way’.”

The words hung heavy, your confession giving more weight to the silence suffocating you both. Noah's eyes were wide, a mix of shock and something akin to longing etched into his features.

"I... I didn't know," he finally managed, choking out the words as if his regret was a tangible thing constricting his throat. "I always thought you were happy with Erin."

Your laugh echoed through the car, hollow. "And I thought you loved Hannah." you shot back, ignoring the sharp sting in your chest. Light spurts of rain began to fall outside, the dispersed patter of the drops landing on the car roof distracting.

He flinched visibly at your retort but made no attempt to defend himself. Instead, he dropped his gaze to his hands where they lay clenched in his lap.

"Life is ironic, isn't it?" he murmured after a while. His voice was quiet but resounding in the stillness of the moment.

"Yeah, it is." You agreed, gazing out of the window again.

The brunette beside you shifted in his seat again, taking in a slow breath. "I want to kiss you."

His words were so soft, they almost melded with the low murmur of the far away traffic.

Your wide eyes whipped to him in a glance that was all too revealing. A gasp escaped from your clenched jaws, an unexpected note in the heavy silence of his trembling confession.

"What?" Your voice strangled itself into a whisper, hands fluttering against your chest as if trying to stifle the mounting panic.

Meeting your gaze head-on, Noah cleared his throat, "If that's okay with you, I mean...I'm not..." he sighed, raking a hand through his tousled hair in frustration, "Nevermind."

A thousand thoughts and feelings flooded through you.

“I- I can’t go down this road again.”

At that moment he unbuckled his seatbelt, hastily crawling out of the car. Your breathing quickened as you watched him walk around the hood to your side, opening your door. He held out his hand, waiting for you to take it.

Shaking your head, you remained unmoving, the sudden rainfall outside creating a rhythmic backdrop to your racing pulse. His outstretched hand trembled slightly under the raindrops gently cascading down on them.

Stubbornly, he didn't retract it, "Please," Noah pleaded in a tone akin to a whisper.

An unknown force urged you to take his hand, pulling yourself out of the car and into the rain-soaked night. It was hammering down now; each drop was its own parade, a silver bead in the sea of dirt beneath your feet. Your clothes began to cling to your skin as the rain showered over you, yet you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Noah's.

Pulling you into a hug, he enveloped you fully in his chest.

His scent hit you first– a distinct mix of old spice and musk, something so uniquely Noah. His heartbeat echoed against your ears, beating in time with the thrumming of rain on the car roof.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your fingers clutching at the fabric dampening underneath your grip. His body next to yours felt like a patchwork quilt of memories- a warmth that was familiar yet now foreign all at once.

He sighed gently above you, one hand moving to lightly stroke the small of your back. It was subtle, almost hesitant; as if he feared this moment to be just another figment of the past.

“I can’t change what happened- and I need you to know that I wouldn’t have changed it. Even if I regret it.”

“Why?” You asked.

"Because it made me realize how much I lost in not choosing you," he answered, his voice barely audible above the sound of the rain pounding against the pavement.

Your heart ached as his words rang in your ears, each syllable echoing with a pain you related to all too well.

“It made me realize how much I wanted you, and how it’s always been you. Maybe I wouldn’t have been a good partner for you because I was just a dumb kid. Maybe we were meant to experience other people before getting here- I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.”

“But regretting it brought me back to you,” he finished, pulling you away from him as his hands reached up either side of your face, caressing your cheeks with his cold hands. His expression was raw and open, every hiding place stripped bare as he studied you.

"I need you to understand one thing," he continued, his voice barely a whisper against the pounding of your heart. "My feelings for you...they’re not fleeting."

The wind had picked up, tossing small flurries of rain sideways; droplets traced pathways down his inked skin, catching in the hollow of his throat. There was an otherworldly beauty about him in that moment, one that had you transfixed.

"You were always with Erin. What was I going to do, stroll up to your house and confess?" he broke the silence once again, his knuckles brushing stray strands of hair from your face.

His eyes bore into yours, an unearthly intensity in his october gaze that made you tremble. His fingers traced your jawline in a gentle caress, quivering as they brushed over your lips. His quiet admittance echoed deafeningly in the space between you, wrapping itself around the settled tension in the air and filling you both with an unbearable longing.

"Noah," you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed. The rain was persistent; its rambling rhythm provided a haunting melody to your escalating heartbeats.

You placed your hands on top of his that held your face.

"Why now?" You managed to make your voice steady amidst the turmoil within.

"Because it's never too late, right?" His voice quivered with a hopeful note. You nodded weakly against his touch before daring to open your eyes again, “There are no longer any barriers. You’re here- I’m here- nothing else is in the way to hold us back anymore.”

He was holding his breath, terrified that with the next exhalation he might shatter the moment hanging between you.

"Maybe..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "Maybe it's time we take a chance on us."

A dozen emotions warred within you, and it was terrifyingly beautiful as pieces of him echoed through your nerves.

"Is there an 'us'?" You countered quietly, words tangled in a knot of apprehension.

"There could be," he whispered, placing his forehead against your own. Droplets of water fell between your skin.

Your heart stuttered inside your chest at his words.

“Can I kiss you now?” he took a deep breath swallowing his nerves.

Feeling your pulse quicken, you let out a shaky sigh. This wasn't how you had planned your evening- certainly not a premature reunion with long-locked-away feelings.

Yet, in that moment, any traces of reluctance were drowned by the insistent tug of something deep within you; a longing for closure, perhaps, or maybe even the feeling of what should have been all along?

"Yes," you barely recognized your own voice.

The corners of Noah's mouth curled into the semblance of a smile. He didn’t hesitate as he leaned in close, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks and making your eyelids flutter shut.

The world came crashing onto a standstill as his lips met yours, slow and hesitant at first before engulfing you in a fervor you could only associate with years of suppressed desire and regret. The taste of his lips was like coming home after an eternity; familiar yet carrying hints of something new and enticing.

Your body ached with need as reality blurred around you and Noah, your lungs catching every roll of his lips and breath as your mind raced. He was everything you had ever wanted- and this moment was something you dreamed of years ago.

He pulled you against him, the force of it making your teeth click, but not enough to hurt. Your hands clung to his shirt, cloth wrinkling beneath your desperate grasp as the intensity of your kiss increased. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades, fingers splayed widely against the drenched fabric of your top. Noah’s grip was so tight, his lips so hungry, as if afraid you’d let go.

"Noah," you mumbled against his lips, his name a soft plea. The kiss deepened, his body pressing further into yours with possessiveness and urgency.

Each drop of rain felt like a spark against your skin as his tongue traced the seam of your lips. His arm around your waist pulled you closer until there was no room left for regret, only the raw shiver of anticipation simmering beneath every touch, every breath.

"I've wanted this for so long..." He confessed between kisses, his voice breathless and filled with longing.

His words danced over your skin like electric shocks, each syllable a promise etched against your parted lips. Noah was a heartbeat, a rhythm so intimately familiar that you wondered how you ever survived without it.

“Me too.” You mumbled.

Slowly, he broke away; pausing just inches from your lips to simply hold you in his arms.

And as his brows furrowed and eyes darkened even more than you thought they possibly could, you swore there were tears mixing with the rain that fell down his cheeks.

His thumb traced the curve of your chin, an absent-minded gesture as he gazed at you.

"Did that... did it feel right?" His voice held a hint of insecurity, a shadow of doubt. Swallowing hard, you nodded, unable to say anything before reaching up to hold the back of his neck, and pull him into another long kiss.

You smiled, “I want to know what should have been. What will be. With you.”

His lips crashed into yours again, this time with a fervor that sent shockwaves through every nerve in your body. His hands were an orchestrated chaos, roaming your back and sides, desperate to elicit a response that would match his own longing.

“I want that too,” He whispered against your mouth, the utterance of those five words producing an unforgettable melody echoing the long-suppressed desires within both of you.

Your tongue lightly danced along his lip, and Noah held the back of your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. The taste of him against your tongue made your limbs warm despite the cold, the craving of his fingers pressing into your skin irreplaceable to anything you ever felt before.

It felt right somehow, breaking barriers of the past and what could have been, only to embrace this newfound feeling- electric and full of hope.

Noah carried you back to his car after some time, both drenched from standing too long under the downpour.

In silence, you relished the warmth seeping through you. The radio sprang back to life as Noah fired up the engine again, flicking on the windshield wipers. He sighed, glancing at you with a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he reached over to manipulate the car's heater settings.

The journey back into town was quieter than before. The rain tapped rhythmically against the roof as you leaned against the window, staring absently at the stirring city below. Noah drove in silence, occasionally stealing glances in your direction- a soft yet unreadable gaze that sent shivers running down your spine.

“You’re a great kisser- so please forgive my younger self’s ignorance.”

"Will do," you managed to laugh, your chest tight with a newfound vitality. He chuckled, throwing you an amused sidelong glance.

The city lights streaked past in a blur, reflecting off the wet streets. The late-night pedestrians were rushing into their homes or into nearby pubs, attempting to dodge the heavy downpour. But inside the car, everything felt muted; as though time had been brought to standstill, after all this time.

You traced your slightly swollen lips with fingertips trembling faintly from leftover exhilaration. You could still taste him on your tongue; it was a taste you already knew you yearned to become familiar with.

Suddenly, he slowed the car to a halt in front of your apartment complex.

"I should get going," you murmured quietly, lying to him and yourself. "Thank you for tonight.”

He nodded, turning to face you once again. You watched him, your eyes tracing over every detail of his face; the bridge of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the curve of his cheeks- all before latching onto his gaze.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and before opening the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Do you want to come in?”

+++++

part two here

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—You weren’t even trying to be subtle about it anymore. The way you flopped onto the couch right next to him, sighing dramatically for the fifth time, your legs draped over his lap like some sort of needy punctuation mark—yeah, no shame at all.

But Yunho? Eyes glued to the screen, headset on, fingers dancing over the controller like it was his first love. “Yuyu,” you murmured, dragging out the word as you ran your fingers through his hair, “I’m bored.”

He tilted his head just slightly, like he was trying to acknowledge you, but didn’t dare tear his focus away from the game. “Mmhm—just one more round, I swear.”

You squinted at him. “That’s what you said two rounds ago.”

He reached down and patted your knee absentmindedly, like you were a cat he needed to keep calm. That was it. Final straw.

You stood up without another word, padding into the kitchen with a huff. If he was too busy to give you attention, fine. You’d pretend he didn’t exist too. Petty? Maybe. But he deserved it. You started pulling things out of the fridge, slamming the door just a little louder than necessary.

Fifteen minutes later, you heard the soft pad of his footsteps. He stopped in the doorway, hands in his hoodie pockets, watching you. You ignored him completely.

"Baby?" he tried, voice soft, sheepish.

You hummed, not turning around.

Yunho walked up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. “Don’t be mad, I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your neck, kissing you there lightly. "I missed you."

“You missed me?” you repeated flatly, still focused on the cutting board.

“I did," he said, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck, slower this time. "I miss you even when I’m next to you. You know that?”

You rolled your eyes but your body leaned into his without meaning to. He noticed, smiling against your skin.

Without warning, Yunho spun you around and lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the counter like you weighed nothing. He stood between your legs, hands on either side of your thighs, caging you in with that smug smile he always wore when he knew he was winning.

“There we go,” he said with that boyish grin that always got to you. “You’re looking at me now.”

Your fingers toyed with the ends of his hair. “You ignored me first.”

“I was a fool,” he said dramatically, leaning in to kiss you. It started soft. Then it deepened, slow and warm, his tongue teasing yours, his hands gripping your thighs.

When he pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier. “Kitchen’s dangerous,” he said, voice a little husky. “Too many sharp objects. Better take you somewhere safer.”

You squealed when he bent down and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, one hand keeping you secure, the other giving your thigh a playful squeeze.

“Yunho!” you shouted, laughing and squirming as he carried you down the hall.

“You asked for my attention,” he said smugly. “Now you’ve got all of it.”

When he reached the bedroom, he tossed you gently on the bed, crawling over you with a teasing glint in his eyes. His hands slipped under the hoodie you were still wearing—his hoodie—and rested on your bare waist, thumbs stroking lazy circles into your skin.

“You’re not allowed to be this hot and mad at me,” he whispered, pressing kisses down your neck, lingering just below your ear. “I won’t survive it.”

You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him in for another kiss.

“Maybe next time you’ll pause the game.”

“Darling,” he murmured between kisses, “I’ll delete the whole thing if you just keep kissing me like that.”

you just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but instead you made a detour to crouch beside the couch and take the controler from his hand as gently as you could. not that taking it from him forcefully would’ve made any difference; he could sleep through a category five hurricane. once you set the controller on the small coffee table, you reached for the glasses that squished against his nose.

he didn’t stir as you nudged his shoulder gently. at first you felt bad about having to wake him, but the distinct memories of him whining about his shoulder hurting after sleeping on the couch flashed through your mind.

“mingi…” you whispered softly, nudging him again, “mingi, wake up.”

after the third nudge he muttered something, though you could quite tell what. with your hand resting on his should as he pushed his face further into the pillow beneath his head, you sighed and moved to get up. but before you could register it, a hand wrapped around your write and pulled you down on the couch, legs tangling with yours and his other hand keeping you close by the small of your back.

you held your breath as he began moving you, practically trapping you beneath his large body as he drags himself halfway on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. his short, washed-out pink hair tickled your cheek as he lifted his head to look at you. you would’ve laughed at the tired expression of his face, all pouting lips and squinting eyes.

“i tried to wake you.” your voice came out a lot higher than you intended, not realising you almost felt flustered at your current position.

his eyes fluttered shut again and he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, making you tense for a moment before relaxing. his voice gravelly in his newly awake state, he spoke against the soft skin of your neck, “why”

“you always complain about your neck hurting when you sleep on the couch, i was trying to get you to move and sleep in your bed but you wouldn’t wake up.”

your answer has him humming understandingly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. your best friend was usually quite affectionate, however, this felt different from the more common cuddles during movie nights or occasional hand holding. you chalked it up to him not being fully awake, mind still hazy from his nap. at least until you felt the first of his kisses along your neck. they were so soft they were easy to miss, yet still the unmistakable brush of his lips that you sometimes found yourself wanting to feel against yours.

still, you didn’t protest, tentatively moving one of your hands up to brush through the hair at the nape of his neck. this only encouraged him, another hum vibrating against your skin. a soft sigh slipped passed your lips as his large hand moved to the small of your back to your waist, thumb carressing you through your flimsy white tanktop. with his body pressed against yours and his lips kissing anywhere he could reach comfortably, you relaxed, letting yourself lean your head back against the plush sofa.

“mingi,” you finally pulled yourself together to ask, “what are you doing?”

“just… just holding you,” he muttered against you. his kisses were tender and didn’t hold any sense of urgency, lazy presses against your pulse. “you feel nice, you smell nice, and you’re so warm. let me just hold you for a bit, please?”

it almost sounded like he was pleading when he asked you to let him do so and you found it hard to say no. in general, you found it hard to say no to anything he asked. so, you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper and making him lift his head to look down at you. moments turned into seconds which turned into minutes as your surroundings blurred and all you could think of was the tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward. he paused, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop, but at the sight of the slightest of nods he couldn’t hold himself back from brushing his lips against yours. his hand on your waist tightened for a second as he pulled away, holding himself up with his other hand, forearm supporting him as his face hovered above yours.

he took in the sight of you beneath him, gaze flickering all over your face as he tried to memorise the sparkling look of your round eyes and your tiny puffs of air. there’s a smile tugging at his plush lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your cheeks warm even more. and when he spoke, his voice was no longer rough with sleep, but a gentle whisper only for you to hear.

“please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

you almost laughed at the endearing question but opted to smile instead, your hands cupping his cheeks. “no, this isn’t dream.”

“good,” he spoke through a sigh, sounding oh so content, “you’re just so pretty.”

a comfortable silence washed over you as he lowered himself to press another kiss against your lips. this time he let himself stay longer, he found the taste of your lips addicting, getting lost in the way they feel against his tongue as he swiped it along your bottom lip. when you parted for air, he rested his forehead against yous, breath mingling. the rest of the night was spent through lazy kisses and loving words that left you confused at the relationship you shared with him. but before you could ask about it, you had both fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms on the couch you had tried so hard to get him off of.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet

You should’ve known better than to challenge Song Mingi.

It started off the way it always did—banter, teasing, stolen glances that lasted too long to be friendly. You were used to pushing each other’s buttons, toeing the line but never quite stepping over it. Until tonight.

It was just the two of you, sprawled out on his couch after a movie, the soft glow of the screen flickering over his face. The teasing had started when he caught you staring.

"Like what you see?" he’d smirked, stretching his arms over his head, his hoodie riding up just enough to show a glimpse of his toned stomach.

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected. "Please. You’re all talk."

That was the mistake.

Because the second those words left your mouth, Mingi shifted—his lazy smirk sharpening into something darker, something unreadable.

"All talk, huh?" His voice was lower now, dipping into that deep, husky register that made your stomach tighten.

Before you could react, he moved—one arm bracing against the back of the couch, the other pressing into the cushion beside your hip, caging you in effortlessly.

The air changed.

Mingi wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes dragged over your face, slow and deliberate, lingering on the way your lips parted, your breath suddenly uneven.

"You can take it, right?" he murmured, and fuck. The way he said it—like a challenge, like a promise—sent a shiver straight through you.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. "Mingi—"

He hummed, dipping his head until his lips hovered just above your ear. His breath was warm against your skin, his voice a deep rasp that made your stomach flip.

"Look at you," he mused. "All quiet now. Wasn’t so cocky a second ago."

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to squirm. "Shut up."

Mingi chuckled, the sound low and smug. "Make me."

Your breath caught.

He was still so close, his body heat sinking into you, his scent—clean, warm, Mingi—wrapping around you like a trap. But it wasn’t just his presence. It was his voice—the way he was dragging this out, letting his words settle over your skin, heavy and thick.

"If I touched you right now," he murmured, his lips just barely grazing your jaw, "would you push me away… or pull me closer?"

You should’ve pushed him away.

You should’ve.

But instead, your fingers twitched, itching to grab the front of his hoodie and pull. And Mingi saw. His smirk widened, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he let out a low chuckle.

"That’s what I thought."

Your patience snapped.

With one sharp tug, you fisted his hoodie and yanked him down.

Mingi barely had time to react before your lips crashed into his. And for a second, he froze—like he hadn’t actually expected you to cross the line first. But then he moved.

A groan rumbled from his chest as he kissed you back, deep and hungry, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. The shift sent you sprawling back onto the couch, Mingi following without hesitation, pressing you into the cushions as his weight settled over you.

His mouth was hot, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush against yours, slow and teasing. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you pinned beneath him, his body pressing into yours like he needed to be closer.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, breathless. "You taste better than I imagined."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. "You imagined this?"

Mingi grinned against your mouth, his teeth grazing your lower lip before sucking it between his teeth, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Baby, you have no idea."

The way he said it—low, rough, possessive—sent a full-body shiver through you.

And then he was everywhere. His lips trailed along your jaw, down the column of your neck, each kiss punctuated by a hushed whisper, a dirty little confession. "Been thinking about this for so long." A slow, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. "The way you look at me? Drives me insane." His teeth scraped against your skin, making your fingers tighten in his hair.

"Mingi—"

He groaned, his hands tightening around your hips as he rocked against you, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale. "Say my name like that again, and I swear I won’t stop at just kissing you."

Heat flooded through you.

But before you could respond, his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

The sudden noise snapped you both back to reality, your heaving breaths the only sound filling the room. Mingi didn’t move right away—his forehead still resting against yours, his fingers still gripping your hips like he was this close to saying screw it and going all the way.

You let out a shaky laugh. "Guess we got a little carried away."

Mingi groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. "Worst timing ever."

You nudged him playfully. "You gonna check that?"

"Absolutely not."

You giggled, finally pushing at his chest until he let you sit up. But when you looked at him, his dark, hooded eyes were still locked on you, his lips kiss-swollen, his breathing uneven.

"This isn’t over," he murmured, tilting your chin up with his fingers.

You swallowed hard. "No?"

His smirk returned, slow and dangerous. "Oh, baby… I’ve barely even started."