Writer's Craft

Rather than seeing less of Sehun, you somehow saw more of him. He seemed to run from his parents, who’d come immediately to care for him and the other affairs that came along with death. They had put up a picket sign and were figuring out how to sell a house quickly so they could return to their day jobs. His father, who was quite handsome for his age, seemed particularly detached. He drove between cities, staying for weekends. Those were the days Sehun would stay out longer, begging to just rest on your roof for a few more minutes- to look at the stars for a few more minutes.

You remembered standing near him at the funeral. He hadn’t shed a tear about it, telling you he was trying to be strong. He said he wasn’t going to let this hurt him but you saw how his body ached. The muscle beneath his jaw shook as he looked down at her in her coffin, nails painted a beautiful deep red as she liked it. She wore a dress covered in yellow spots, little shining dots that scattered around a deep blue dress. You wondered what you he was thinking as he stood beside you, hand in yours and holding it so tightly. You wondered what he was thinking as hi fist clenched when she was lowered into the ground.

Mostly, you wanted to cry for him. The town had suddenly taken to him and Grandma Oh. They gave him hugs and told him thank you for caring for her, told him they were proud. They offered to give food and time, offered to take a few things off him and his parents hands. It would have been kind, you decided, if you hadn’t heard a few of the town gossips who’d just given him the most sincerest condolences whispering by the dinner table with wine glasses in their weathered hands.

“You know,” one started, bright red lipstick smudged over her lip line, giving the slightly taller one a fixed look as always, “I want to say I feel bad for the kid but how can I? Yes, the death is obviously tragic but…”

“She was still cracked, you mean,” the other said, whispering lower. Was it out of shame?

Red lips raised her glass and nodded feverishly, whispers low but harsh, “and did you see him during the burial? Not even a tear.”

“Cracked as well.”

They both nodded, taking sips out of their glasses before their eyes fell on you by the table set aside for food. You had slammed your teacup onto your plate, a small crack forming up the side where the handle was. Your eyes were on theirs as well and you could feel the way they froze up, colour draining from their faces. They both turned away, slightly embarrassed you hoped as they detached themselves from their spots but not before they gave you a small nod and smile.

“You okay?” Baekhyun’s hand came to your elbow, catching your attention as he came from behind you. He kept the contact as he came around to face you, free hand coming to unwrap your fingers. He didn’t meet your eyes as you spoke.

“Do you hear this shit?”

All he could do was nod, slowly uncoiling your fingers as he murmured for you to relax. He rubbed at your shoulders slowly, silver glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he’d heard it before and it broke your heart. Was no one standing up for either of them?

“You can’t do anything about it. People talk all the time,” he reasoned quietly, still trying to give you comfort. It wasn’t working.

As you moved out from under his touch, you scoffed. “They’re just acting like Sehun can’t hear them and he can. It’s not fair.”

Baek gave you a small nod, not saying much. He still didn’t like Sehun but you could see he was keeping his comments to himself. All he did was tell you to go and find him and that he’d text you later, giving you what seemed like a smile and walking to his table.

Maybe it would have been better for Sehun not to know what people said. You didn’t tell him but you knew he heard it. He kept hearing it, having the words haunt his steps, or getting upset with you when you would tell the pharmacist to fuck off during a town meeting as he whispered in the back row. He would just tell you it was okay, that it all was okay and that he didn’t mind. You minded and maybe you projected that for a while but he was less and less enthusiastic to go outside.

It did affect him.

On his best days, he would continue to babysit with you. He said the kids made him feel better, like he could see pieces of himself when he was younger in them. He would lift Kihyun into the air like an airplane and his laugh would ring through your house as Inguk chased after them, asking for his turn. You would play in the pool, a child on each of your shoulders and they’d wrestle until they exhausted each other. He tried really hard being a happy person for them, to be as exciting as before but he was having difficulty. It didn’t particularly help that, after a particularly tiring day, you four were on the couch and Inguk lifted his head off Sehun’s chest to touch his face.

So softly, he said, “I miss Grandma Oh.”

“Yeah?” Sehun asked, raising his eyebrows a bit. He was calm on the outside, no part of his body tense either. You look at him, over your book and saw the way his eyes seemed to glisten until he blinked the shine away. His hand grasped Inguk’s, who was tired and had messy hair from his partial nap. With a sadness filling his tone, he nodded so slowly and held Inguk’s hand gingerly, murmuring, “me too.”

On his worst days, Sehun would stay inside. He would ask to just lie on your bed for a little. You didn’t know what to say or do, and he told you he just wanted to be somewhere quiet so you left him alone. You would sit on your stool where the light was the best and fix up little paint blots. You would draw at your desk or read by the window. Sometimes you could feel his eyes on you but you wouldn’t turn to look at them. It would only make him look away and retract. Though, sometimes you would just climb in bed beside him and hold him. That seemed to make his muscles relax but his brain still worked at light speed and you didn’t know what to say to help him, not to mention that he didn’t particularly talk much when you asked him how he felt.

Though, your only breakthrough was about a month afterwards. His parents had been coming in and out now, leaving him mostly alone. They wanted him to come back into the city with him but he refused. You watched the conversation over an icy dinner table with over baked potatoes and gamey meat. It was the second time you’d met his parents as Sehun’s partner and you couldn’t decide if they had taken to you, mostly because they seemed to ignore the fact that you were there half the time.

“I’ll stay here until they sell the house then,” Sehun decided, not looking up at his parents as he cut his slab. He was having a hard time, the meat not giving in. His mother gave you a small overlook before sighing at her son, lips pressed together.

“But there’s nothing to do here anymore.”

Okay, maybe they didn’t like you, you decided, nostrils flaring just slightly but trying to keep your temper in check. Sehun only exhaled, placing his utensils down rather roughly and giving both of his parents a face of steel.

“I’m staying whether you think I should or not. It’s better than me doing nothing in whatever suburb we live in and trailing along behind you to your frigid business lunches anyways.” He wasn’t lending much kindness in his tone, being quite distant with his parents. His father was the one to speak, straightening his back and stretching his cashmere sweater over his white button up.

“Sehun, son,” he started, trying to reason but there was something threatening in his voice, “maybe you should listen to your mother on this.”

You didn’t feel it was your place to say much but there was Sehun, beside you and positively growing with irritation. You wondered how he made it these past years, if he even stayed at home or if he was left alone often. The thought made you frown and slowly, your hand found his over the table. Your fingers laced just slightly, making him put down the fork in his left hand. His temper didn’t deflate but his tone did and that was all you needed as he explained why he was to stay. His parents, with disapproving eyes, didn’t agree but left him alone for the time being. Perhaps in making yourself visible, you’d avoided an argument between the three.

Your mind reeled as your brushed through your hair that night in front of the mirror in your bathroom. You’d taken all your makeup off, realizing you had been wearing more recently and staring at your face made you feel bare. It was as if you’d taken of a mask that didn’t cover you up but brought out more of you and there you were, barren and naked and still, the thought didn’t scare you. Yet, the knocking at your window did cause a little scream to bubble out through your mouth.

You ran from your bathroom to your window, seeing a shadow and sighing. The messily done hair could only be one of two people and, pulling apart the curtains, you were glad to see it was Sehun. He was sitting on the small ledge that you used to climb down from your roof, waiting patiently as you lifted the window for him to climb in. He sure took his sweet time, sluggish and wearing sweatpants despite the heat. His shirt was loose and hung from his shoulders, dipping so you could see his chest as he climbed inside. His hair was fading out.

Rather than moving in and causing a storm, he stood by your window sheepishly. He leaned on your frame and tugged just slightly at the curtains that rested under his legs. His eyes, deep and swirled with darkness, were bearing into yours. You were surprised they didn’t pay any attention to the length of your legs with the shorts you were wearing, or the bareness of your shoulders from your thin shirt. No, they were focused on your face, solemn and trying to hold themselves back from what they wanted to show.

Taking his lip between his teeth, he bit down before slowly asking, “can I sleep here tonight?”

It caused your eyebrows to arch up, unsure what he meant or wanted from it. He didn’t make a move to clarify it and you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t particularly uncomfortable with it, you just didn’t want your brother busting into your room to steal your toothpaste like he always did and then snitching on you. A little tilt of your head was all Sehun needed though and whatever was holding his shoulders up fell from beneath their weight. He curved forward, exhale ripping past his teeth as his hands came to cover his face. He seemed to show years of fatigue, dark circles you hadn’t noticed before peeking out from under his fingers. You didn’t know what to say to help, standing there looking like an idiot looking at him.

You hesitated, taking a moment before murmuring, “lie on my bed and I’ll turn off the lights, okay?”

He nodded, seemingly dragging himself across the floor. Despite his weight, he lay down lightly and watched you pace as you tidied your room, put your face cream on and hurried to the light. He was still curved inwards, the feeling of his eyes small and non judgemental. He seemed to need you more than he meant to in the moment, begging for your attention as you hustled. Then, those dark eyes were lost without the light and, as you bumped into a few things on your way to the bed, only his breathing kept you on course. Even his arms that snaked around your body were an anchor, pulling you onto the soft white sheets and asking if he could keep you there.

All you had to do was run your fingers through his hair, which had never stopped interesting you- never stopped making you fall for him. He rested his head on your stomach, laying diagonally as you lay straight. You placed a small pillow beneath your head to prop it up and waited for him to speak with bated breaths that were lost in the darkness. It took moments for the darkness to distill, allowing what little light there could be from the moon and passive streetlights that appeared ever so often down the road. Still, you could only make out the best of him, his shoulders and the way his ribs rose and fell with breath, the curvature of his chin, his long legs. As you tried to massage love into every touch, he seemed to relax and the moon cast deep blue across his body.

“Sehun,” you whispered, begging yourself to be quiet even though you didn’t want to be, “what happened after I left?”

He raised a shoulder to shrug before curling in closer to you. With a light bite of your lips, you only pressed as much as you could, hoping to get some sort of response.

“Did you guys get into an argument again?”

“They just don’t- they don’t get it,” he huffed, trying to keep himself temperate, “they keep thinking that this is just another business transaction. You know they won’t stop talking about how much the funeral and ambulance costed? They go on and on about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, not knowing what else to say. You’d never experienced this loss, this feeling of nothingness. Nothingness was an often occurrence but not this way. You hadn’t had someone ripped from you and this was hard for you to completely understand. Though, you tried. You let him speak and hoped it was enough.

“I kept wondering why they were so cold when I was younger but I think I get it now. They’ve never loved anyone and, on the off chance they do, they don’t talk about it or show it.” Sehun sounded so bitter, like he’d figured out why he couldn’t stand them. You didn’t know what to say, keeping your tongue between your teeth but nothing came out. There was just the steadiness of his breathing and your heartbeat, which matched perfectly.

Slowly, quietly, he muttered, “my parents were never what I wanted to be. My grandparents were everything to me and now they’re gone; I’m alone.”

“Hey,” you managed, finding your voice. His words stirred something within your stomach, pulling your hands to reach out and pull him the slightest bit up. He straightened, turning to look at you with cheeks damp. You hadn’t even noticed the cracking in his voice, nor the small spots on your shirt. All you cared for was the way he looked under the moonlight: so utterly broken and tired. He looked so defeated and it broke whatever heart you had inside of you.

With your thumbs running under his eyes slowly, you shook your head and tried to console him. Little pricks formed in your eyes, though you tried to push it down as you spoke. “You’re not alone, Sehun. You’ve never been. You had your grandparents, you have Chanyeol, you have Dongmin and Soojin, all those university friends you have. They’ve called you and asked to see you. They care. They’re all here for you, okay? You’re not alone.”

“Maybe,” he hummed and you didn’t know what else to say. Though you tried to convince him, he didn’t seem much too intent on believing what you said. You blamed it on how upset he was, knowing he’d come to his senses soon. Not knowing what else to do, you watched the way he moved from lying down to sitting on the end of your bed. He looked perched to leave and you didn’t want him to. Not at all.

Shifting down, you came behind him and reached for his hand, fingers entwining easily. He was as soft as butter and he melted in the way you spoke, giving you a nod the moment you asked if he wanted to stay for the night. He didn’t want to show you he was upset, rubbing under his eyes before clearing his throat and taking to lying down next to you.

After he settled into his spot, arms snaking around your waist again, the room went silent. Yet, you could still hear the gears in his head turning and turning in a never ending cycle. He felt so restless and, when you turned on your side to face him, he had his eyes on you. They were half-closed but intent. He wasn’t thinking much but you and it showed in the way his eyes seemed to adorn you with a sadness you hadn’t been able to recognize in them before. It was something he hadn’t dared to show until that night, where his thumb came to draw a line across your cheekbone and he beckoned you closer with nearly silent words.

“I have you too, right?”

Whatever tears threatened to fall fought harder against their barrier. Allowing a tear by, you nodded and brought your head under his. He wrapped his arms tighter around yours and you figured maybe you could blame that for the constriction in your throat as you held him back and muttered a cracked, “of course you do. Of course.”

His chest, rising and falling in irregular patterns, was the only indication you had that he heard you- that he was comforted. His body seemed to allow you to fit right into him, creating locks when you were a key. You couldn’t feel the water forming on his cheeks, though you supposed he knew you knew. There wasn’t a secret in his heart you didn’t hear and not a secret you didn’t want to hear. It was a moment you only believed existed in movies but then again, it was so imperfect. There was no lighting. There was no stunning leading lady. There wasn’t an easy solution. Yet, there was him and there was you and for each other, it was all you needed.

You looked at Sehun from the passenger seat, with his mouth pressed into a line and his eyes squinted once again under his cap. The sun was high and would’ve convinced you it was later than it was if it wasn’t for Baekhyun’s snoring from the backseat. He was cuddled into a bundle, clinging onto a blanket because Sehun’s air conditioning was too high for him. A hat was placed on his face to hide him from the sun, though his mouth was slightly ajar from how long he’d been asleep. Sehun wasn’t impressed, though he didn’t say a word. He only gave you a small look from the corner of his eye which caused the corners of your lips to crawl slightly up your cheeks. His struggled not to follow and so, he turned his attention back to the road. As you looked out the window, Chanyeol’s face came to your memory.

He rolled down the street a week ago to stay with Sehun for a while before having to be called back for work. He suggested a party, eyes nearly as big as his ears on his small head. He looked goofy but charming, especially when his lips stretched to form a smile. With a black hoodie on and jeans and an infamous black cap on despite it being night time, he’d asked to meet you one last time before he left. You remembered seeing Sehun laughing from your window before coming down, Chanyeol’s hand smacking his shoulder as they giggled like kids.

Ears sticking out of the cap’s rim, the opening of your door alerted both of them who looked genuinely content in each other’s presence. Sehun’s shoulders were fully relaxed which you hadn’t seen in a while and it gave you whatever hop was in your step. So comfortably, his hand came into yours as you said hello to both men, taking a spot beside Sehun. Chanyeol’s hand was perched on the top of the car and he looked so casual, leaning there and looking at you both.

“So you’re coming, right?” He looked at you and Sehun as if you were the only people he could see, smile lazy but constant with little indents in his cheeks. You went to open you mouth before realizing you didn’t know what he meant.

“To what?”

The two men exchanged looks before Sehun exhaled deeply and muttered, “I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Chan’s mouth dipped down to create a wide circle as he shook his head. “How could you?”

Sehun attempted to console his friend, who had dramatically placed his hand over his eyes and turned his head to the sky. “I was just so caught up with you being here-“

“Oh cruel world!” Chanyeol interrupted, hand finding his heart and clutching the material there, “perhaps we should just cancel! Our sweet Sehun, he’s forgotten us all.”

Sehun, chest quivering from laughter, reached out and placed his free hand over Chanyeol’s, professing, “I’ll never forget again, I promise.”

His friend, hardly containing himself, came up with some sort of punishment and you couldn’t help the way you laughed at them. Your voice rang clear through the street and it seemed to give Sehun some sort of joy as he looked back at you and clutched your hand the slightest bit tighter. Chanyeol’s eyes, also on you, felt like a sunset: kind and soft in all the right ways while being impossibly radiant. It was a wonder seeing the two together, Sehun’s hair fading but still true to its colour.

“We’re having a party, y/n,” Sehun explained, tapping Chanyeol’s chest as he continued, “this one’s planning it for me and all my friends when I come back this weekend.”

Chanyeol nodded, looking down the road behind you before coming back to your face, saying, “we would’ve gone down together but I’ve got a work thing.”

Sehun mouthed ‘work thing’ and used halved quotation marks, hardly avoiding a swatting from Chanyeol. The two only found it funny, playing off each other under street lights that barely illuminated them. You couldn’t help but think you could stand to see Sehun smile like this again, so leisurely and happily. He seemed without a care and you were grateful for Chanyeol as he wrapped up the conversation and got into his car. He was adamant on getting to the city before midnight but it wasn’t going to happen. He just wanted to let you and Sehun have your own time alone for a while.

As he sat in the seat, picking at his wheel while Sehun ran inside to get him a water bottle for the road, you leaned on the car. You didn’t know what to say so you didn’t say a word, uncomfortably comfortable looking at the stars in the sky. Chanyeol didn’t seem to mind, keeping silent until he cleared his throat, voice coming low.

“I hope Sehun hasn’t been a burden to you, y/n. He’s very upset and very heavy sometimes and I’m sorry you had to bear him on your back alone, especially through the worst part of it.”

Arms crossed, you blinked and mouthed like a fish before forming the words, “he wasn’t a burden at all.”

Chanyeol’s eyes caught yours through the windshield and he smiled sadly, giving you a little nod. “Then good. He really likes you and I don’t want it to be a mistake.”

“Mistake?” Your eyebrows raised in time, unsure where the conversations was going to take you. With the widening of his eyes coupled with the fast bumbling of his words, you saw he meant no harm. He, just like most people, didn’t think before he spoke. His hands tightened around the wheel out of embarrassment, redness forming on his cheeks in an instant.

“That’s- that’s not what i meant, you’re not a mistake, of course you’re not. I just worry about him. I want him to be happy and he is with you. It hasn’t happened in a while, is all,” he trailed off, taking a bite to his lips as his eyes moved from your face to the road, where it disappeared into a dark distance spotted with lights.

“You’re a very sweet friend, Chanyeol,” you hummed, not knowing what else to say. Your hand rested on his shoulder through the opened window and he looked at you from under his cap with a sheepish smile. He didn’t believe in your words at all but he didn’t reject them and you supposed that was alright for the moment.

Sehun’s hands were filled with other objects Chan left in his house as he came outside and to the other side of the car. He looked at you for a moment through the open window with a bit of a smile, talking all the while to Chanyeol about how he’ll message him before you came as he placed all of Chanyeol’s items on the passenger seat. Chanyeol took to throwing some of them in the backseat haphazardly, exchanging one final joke before saying his goodbyes. Yet, before he left, he looked you straight in the eye and, cheekily, told you to invite Baekhyun as well.

“We haven’t seen him in a while. It’ll be fun, no?” His eyebrow moved up, engine running as he waved and said goodbye to a confused self and a slightly annoyed Sehun. He came over to you and scoffed, shaking his head.

“Baekhyun, huh?” You copied Chanyeol’s face, arms crossed once more with a little smile. Though you didn’t know why he’d want Baekhyun there, you didn’t press. It was better to let him say how they knew each other on his own time, though you walking away and saying goodnight sure hurried along the process. Or, at least, made him tug you into his arms for a slow kiss, nose bumping against yours as he did so. You both had ridiculously small smiles stretched across your lips, leaning to give each other more and more until you heard a slight knocking behind you. You turned your head just in time to see the curtains in your front window shifting and snorted.

Adjusting in your seat to look at Sehun properly, which dealt with loosening your seatbelt and folding your legs awakardly, you stared at his profile. With a small nudge from your foot, you caught his attention and his very quiet ‘what?’

Whispering back, you hummed, “so why did we invite Baekhyun?”

“Because Chanyeol asked,” Sehun responded very simply, shrugging like he didn’t know. You only clicked your tongue and shook your head.

“Not good enough.”

“Guess we’ll never know then,” he crooned, shrugging again with a coy look on his face. You only pouted, poking him once more with your foot before he lightly tapped it to tell you to stop. Your lips pushed out further, legs retracting into your body as you turned away.

Quietly, jokingly, you mused, “so mean.”

You only got a little smile in return, an airy chuckle filtering past his teeth.

The details of the night were quite blurry seeing as you didn’t really seem to look past Sehun. You were slightly on edge with the amount of new people you were meeting, most of them friends of Chanyeol’s and Sehun’s from a competition they entered long ago. They all seemed to be well acquainted and comfortable, arms slinging around each other or calling each other pet names. There was a particularly bubbly man whose smile stretched across his whole face and became brighter than any light. You made a point to talk to him when you were left alone for spare moment and found out his name was Jongdae. He was quite warm and you wondered briefly what colour you would paint him if you could.

Before long, you were ripped away from him but not before deciding he was the colour of a light sky. You only hopped just outside, hand taken in by Chanyeol’s very large one only for a moment. There was a gathering of everyone apparently and, from Chanyeol calling people over his shoulder as he pulled you through his apartment onto his patio, it was important. In the middle of the semicircle balcony, there was a small black tin with a fire coming from it. Sehun was focused on grilling a marshmallow, eyebrows furled together and lip pulled in. You found a little smile on your lips, released by Chanyeol and coming over to place a hand on his back as you stood beside him. He used to flinch when you did that. This time, he did not.

Your eyes didn’t meet, too focused on the low burning light rather than the clamour behind and in front of you as a few people came to grab their own marshmallows or just seats near the fire that Chan had haphazardly set up. Your hand ran a little streak up and down Sehun’s back as you came closer.

“Are you having fun?”

You saw him nod from the corner of your eye, shoulder now bumping against his upper arm. Both of your gazes were fixed on the orange light, the cool heat that rose and created small spires of smoke. Patterns formed in the fire and, if you stared hard enough, you could see your future inside of it. There was orange everywhere, apricot right in the middle where your heart lay. It caused your hand to fall from Sehun’s back and somehow find his fingers, holding on lightly so as to not make him feel obligated. Though, he tightened his grip and leaned his head down slightly to nudge yours.

You shifted slightly to face him only to be met with his lips on your forehead. His other hand had placed the marshmallow stick elsewhere, though you heard a light clatter on the floor. Yet, he came to pull you closer and his arms, slow and strong, wrapped around you. Yours came into place as well, elbows at his waist while your hands came just under his shoulder blades. He held you as if he was protecting you, and he breathed so steadily. Even his heart seemed to calm against your ear, matching with yours in an instant.

“Thank you,” he murmured, the light snapping of the wood burning next to you drowning out all other conversations for the time being. You didn’t say anything back, not having much to say. All you did was press further into him, hands sliding further up and eyes closing tighter.

Somehow it felt as if you’d cocooned each other, slowly and surely shutting down the fires that ran through your veins wildly. You’d shut off all routes and forced the wild horses back into their pens, pushing further and further back until all the remained of the fire was between your hearts. There it thrived blue and then white, bound to stay there no matter how many more roads were formed over time or how weathered its restraints got. This was its place, you both seemed to decide, since it couldn’t hurt anyone. Your body stopped sizzling and started living, chin lifting to look him in the eyes.

His lips pressed against yours to seal the promise, once and then twice and then he just looked at you. He brought his thumbs to your cheeks and gave the smallest smile but you saw it in his eyes- in the way they reflected the golden light so his eyes turned the colour of sweetened coffee.

“I’m happy,” he said so quietly, you would have lost it. For the first time, you didn’t struggle to say it as well and that meant the world to you.

“Me too.”

Somehow, food got passed around. Chanyeol was a fan of hot surfaces, seeing as he still had his makeshift fire going, his stove on inside, and was grilling food outside as well. Baekhyun had taken to managing the food inside, though he wasn’t very good at it. You supposed that was why someone named Yixing followed him. His laugh could be heard from the patio, and you thought it was very beautiful seeing a whole band of friends getting together. You hung around Chanyeol for the time being, seeing as he was alone and Jongdae was very, very preoccupied. Sehun was around as well but you couldn’t find him and mostly didn’t want to get lost in the large den Chan had for himself.

As you leaned on the railing, breathing in the partially fresh air beside the barbecue, Chanyeol spoke. He tried making it nonchalant but you knew it was nothing of the sort. Though, you didn’t particularly mind the concern.

“How are you liking tonight?” He was holding a long metal utensil, twirling it around as he closed the hood to stifle the smoke. You offered him a smile as you turned your head, shrugging lightly.

“It’s nice, I just don’t know anyone,” you decided. You’d much rather be home with Sehun, watching a stupid movie or letting him sleep or taking care of Kihyun and Inguk. You missed them quite a lot these days.

Chanyeol chuckled, “yeah, it’s like that. Sometimes we’re a little unapproachable. Next time, it’ll get better.”

You quirked up an eyebrow at that, turning to fully face him. Your elbows propped themselves up on the railing and you fixed him with a look, confused. “What do you mean?”

“They’re just not used to Sehun bringing girls is all,” he explained, lifting the hood and waving the cloud of smoke so he could turn the pieces of beef and chicken, “he doesn’t do this at all. Doesn’t really date and stuff so, you know. There’s reason to be cautious, I guess.”

“And are you?” The question came from your mouth in a rush, pressing the man by accident. You didn’t want to be disapproved by his best friend and somehow, it meant a lot to you to be accepted by his friends.

Chanyeol only shook his head, closing the hood again and grinning. “No, I’ve seen you two. I think you’ve got us all convinced, especially after that show in front of the fire.”

Your cheeks stung a bit and you forced out a little laugh, dropping your eyes to the floor. Chanyeol didn’t really seem to notice, though he did come to stand beside you and nudged you slightly with his elbow. He was being kind, you decided, liking him more with every passing moment. He seemed to be very good in his heart, where all his friends lay.

“Do me a favour will you?” He focused on the goings on inside, the kitchen and living room walls made of glass facing the patio and pressed his lips together for a moment, thinking. “Keep him smiling like that, will you? It’s a hard thing to ask but I haven’t seen him happy in a while.”

His black hat was still on, covering his forehead but his eyes were too bright to be sheltered. Ears sticking out to stretch his comfortable smile again, he focused on you for a moment, saying, “it’s not just you, I know that logically, but you’re a big part of it. I love him like he’s my family, you know. I just want him to be happy.”

“So do I,” you agreed, somehow signing a contract whose terms you’d written yourself long ago. It was only a matter of time before you’d locked his name to your heart, you decided. Today was as good a day as any.

Chanyeol seemed satisfied, small imprints forming on his cheeks and a hand came to the top of your head. He rubbed just slightly before going back to his barbecue. As he did so, he hummed, “then we’re more than good now too.”

You raised your eyebrows once again with the hood. As he clamped his utensil together once more with a silly grin, he gave you a wink through the smoke and said, “welcome to the family.”

There was a large sound of metal dropping from inside, followed by a cacophony of laughs mixed with complaints. It broke your eye contact with the man in front of you, eyes coming to find Sehun doubled over in laughter. His eyes were crescents, staring at the spilled mess in Chanyeol’s kitchen.

“Those asshats,” Chanyeol huffed, shaking his head. There wasn’t a trace of anger in his face though, here was just a small smile as he turned back to his food. A few of the boys as well as their partners came to help Baekhyun and Yixing while Sehun only placed his hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder and continued laughing. You could’ve sworn you heard him call the boy an idiot but there he went and hugged the shorter man. It gave you a little smile.

“So,” you hummed, taking your eyes from the mess. Minseok, who you believed was the shorter, catlike figure, came up to you three as well, taking your words before you could ask them.

“I can’t believe you invited Baekhyun, Yeol,” he started, a little laugh on his lips. His eyes were bright and his hair was dark and he was very warm, extending his hand to you for a proper handshake as Chanyeol shrugged.

“I’m Minseok by the way, we didn’t get a chance to say hi.”

You shook back, though it was uncomfortable for you as you said your name, though pushed the conversation forward with a small, “I didn’t know you guys even knew each other. I’ve known Baekhyun nearly all my life.”

Minseok raised his eyebrows, lips curled upwards and he looked between you two before saying, “then you have to know about the competition he entered. We were all in it for a month or so.”

You only blinked, not knowing what he was talking about. Chanyeol piped up, also seemingly surprised though he played it off well. His eyes were fixed on the grilling meat, new slabs on now.

“Baekhyun sings, right?” He waited for you to acknowledge that before continuing, the small metallic press of the hood down filling the air as you nodded. “We all entered a singers-dancers competition a long time ago when we were in high school. Sehun’s team won against Baekhyun’s because of the better overall vocals and dance, although Baek’s had some of the best on his team.”

“Are you kidding me?” you said before you could stop yourself, slightly in shock. Chanyeol nodded as Minseok turned to point out the people on the teams.

“It was Baek, Kyungsoo, me, Yixing, and two guys who aren’t here right now that lost,” he explained, showing you the men around who stood and talked. They all had drinks in their hands, seemingly at home with the other team members and their former opposition.

“You guys are still friends though?” The question slipped past your teeth without you realizing it, the whole connection seeming unclear. One month of a high school summer couldn’t be so entirely life changing.

Minseok’s pinky was used to point in the general direction of Sehun, who was running a hand through his hair as he talked to who you thought Kyungsoo was. “It was Sehun who suggested we meet afterwards. Said he really liked us since we lived together for that month. I think he got comfortable enough, especially with Chanyeol.

“If anything, it was them two that kept us together.” His smile was soft, looking inside at the gathering. He seemed just as sweet, though more careful with his words than Chanyeol was. He took is time and paced himself, he was calculated but for once, it didn’t throw you. In fact, it made you quite happy. You were learning as much of Sehun as you could in a good light and you were glad to hear it.

“We didn’t do anything,” Chanyeol hummed, looking at the sizzling heat beside you with a focus, “we just suggested it. You all came.”

Minseok only shrugged, though he mouthed some sort of ‘don’t listen to him’ and gave you a smile. Chanyeol didn’t notice it and, as you counted, you found three people missing. Minseok only mentioned two and you frowned.

“Where are the missing friends?” Your question was innocent enough but it seemed to make the two boys sad. Minseok looked at his shoes for a moment before turning his gaze outwards to the city and Chanyeol looked at his reflection in the black metal.

“They moved back to China after a while because of some family problems,” he offered, though you were sure you shouldn’t press. They were upset about it and you made sure to keep your mind from it. Quickly, you tried to find another topic, picking up the strings of another conversation for the sake of filling the air.

“And what team were you on?” You gave Chanyeol a small look from the side of your eye, catching him shrugging just slightly smugly.

“Winning team, of course.”

Minseok, breaking from his ice, proceeded to make a sly comment about how they cheated, to which Chanyeol feigned his offence and they bickered for a few moments. As they did so, you looked past them and found Sehun chatting with Baekhyun once more. He had laughs bubbling from his chest easily, happily at that and it filled you with some sort of comfort. If there was one sight you’d like to see more of, it would have to be him just like that- happy, smiling, laughing. In that moment, everything was painted gold and filmed in your mind just the same.

—————————————————

Cards were strewn across tables and board games were left unfinished. There were many little bottles that dotted Chanyeol’s living room table and his kitchen counters. The entire house seemed to be in perfect disarray, bothersome to no one and politely quiet. Chan took to leaving the two of you alone to clean, claiming he was going to take a shower and come right back. He’d fallen asleep, face down on his bed with his limbs splayed out by the time you went to check on him. He hadn’t even changed.

Sehun leaned against the door frame behind you, your hand still on the knob of the door. His quiet breath hit the back of your neck as he huffed a laugh, murmuring, “typical.”

With his head, he nodded for you to go and you followed his step, shutting the door quietly behind you. Padding down the small hallway that bled into the living room, you were just in Sehun’s long shadow. You walked in his steps, amused by the attempt until he flicked the light off and shot you a small grin. His lips were kind enough but his eyes were on fire tonight, happy and teasing. As he came to try and press your back to a wall, you proceeded to take tiny little steps to your right in an attempt to evade him.

As you escaped his first forward advance, holding back a little squeal as you ducked under his arm and dashed to somewhere in the living room where it was the darkest, you found a giggle building in your chest. It was so unfiltered and so unforced, taken away by the silence of the household and held in your body like some sort of sweetened candy. You continued to repress your laughter, though your lips stretched over your teeth and hooked around your ears as Sehun continued to chase you around.

He thought he cornered you in the kitchen but you only climbed onto a counter to jump past him and into the small foyer. You danced around your shoes and then around his arms, which nabbed at you and held you fast. A small dart of your tongue onto his skin made him loosen his grip for a moment and you escaped yet again, cackling in silence as he called out for you in bated whispers. You were out of breath when you found yourself in the darkest part of the apartment and then arms came around your front and held you to a body made to shelter you of all noise and sounds. You didn’t fight, leaning into his touch and chuckling.

His lips reached your ears, whispering lightly that he caught you. You hummed just as he pressed those lips to the skin below your ear and traced a small line down your neck. It took all there was in you to be silent, though the tilt of your neck for him to see and have more under his touch was enough for him to know. He kept on his small path, shifting the collar of your shirt down just for a moment to press where he wanted. His hands made their way further across your body, securing you to him until you turned to give into him.

There he was, so close to you. His mouth worked in ways that made you wonder how you ever let him stop, lifting on your toes to get further into him. Sehun made a slight sound from the back of his throat, low and curt but it was enough to get you both to start moving. You needed something, somewhere to sit and be- somewhere where the bare pressure of his chest could be felt against yours. You rushed and hit the tables along the way, kicking cans, laughing and shushing each other to be quiet until you hit the large sofa and tumbled forward onto it. His back hit the leather first, chest a cocoon for you to fall into and steady yourself.

He said your name in what could only be the thickness of lust. It dripped from his tongue like a sweet sugar you let fall in your mouth. You clung onto his shirt and then his shoulders when that was removed. He felt like he was made of marble and cinnamon just the same, a solid powder that moved at your touch, that begged for more. There was the pressure between your legs, the way his jeans tightened against themselves, there was his eyes. God, his eyes. Cinnamon, coffee, chocolate, and apricots. He was them all and he tasted of them on your lips.

Letting go of your inhibitions, you let his name past your lips just at the end, when your breath had escaped you and your mind went blank of all but him, And he was there. He came to press his lips to yours, to have your air shared, to look at you like you were made of the most amazing things in the world. He didn’t say it and neither did you. It wasn’t as if you had to at that point, hearts racing to come down and match each other again. No, there was no need. All you cared for was the smile on his lips as he lay beside you, inching closer and closer so he could see more of you.

Perhaps that was the first time you saw him and what he could do,, looking into his eyes to find the man who’d made you suddenly feel so wonderfully okay.

Sehun was ice, cool and hard but soft to touch. When a smile broke out on his face, he became sunshine. You imagined him as a pale spring morning, a chill just covering the warmth underneath. Once, you tried to paint him or, rather, the way he made you feel. It was impossible to understand, colours flying everywhere but none of them harsh. All of it became a horizon with a rising sun made of snow and strawberries and the smell of apricot. There was kindness at the heart of it, around the edges of his face and the curvature of his eyes. There was passion in his skin and the colours that stained it. There was home.

You made it when he wasn’t doing so well and when you felt him slipping from your familiar hands. You tried to contain him in a little canvas in hopes of him coming back to you. You even kept this painting in your room, far from anything that dared to harm it- far from the eyes of judgement that follow you and the fires of your own soul. You were scared he’d never be himself again. You were scared to consume him like you consumed yourself. Your insides burned when inspired, flames licking at the corpse that lay inside: the very same corpse that would become new when he touched you, when he spoke, when he smiled.

And yet, there he was again. You saw the crystals under his skin. You felt the purity of his breath on your skin. You touched the sunset within him and found that he was still in tact. He was whole. He was happy, and you were there to experience it with every new fact you found out and every new friend. You were there and what a privilege it was to be there.

You’d fallen asleep about an age ago and Sehun had been looking at you all the while. The way your eyelids fluttered like wings waiting to take flight made him wonder what you were dreaming. The colouring of your skin forced his hand across your cheek and down until it rested on your arm. You were lying on your side, mouth open the smallest crack and in this ridiculously shocked way- like a fish out of water. He lied across from you, head on another pillow because he knew how particular you were about people on yours. He watched your chest fall and rise and felt your breath on his collarbone. He watched you sleep like it was a movie he never wanted to end- something he’d never quite catch again. You’d never be this young and somehow he thought he might never be this in love, at least not in the same way.

Your arm was between your bodies, palm facing up and fingers curled just slightly inwards. He played with them, flattening them against the leather just to watch them curl again. He didn’t know how many times he’d done it, a silly little smile on his face, but somehow his hand ended up in your own. It was wrong of him to think so but he knew that you were supposed to feel safe holding his hand; somehow you were holding his and he’d never felt more protected. Under the shell of your fingers, he rested the hand that could’ve swallowed yours and tried to fall asleep again. He couldn’t, but lying there next to you was his favourite part of the whole summer.

The way the sun streamed in over the rolling hills and hit your face in that perfect orange that looked like his fading hair, the curtains that danced across the floor but never touched it when the wind blew, the feeling of your hair against his cheek: it all amounted to one thing. There was such a purity that came from loving you, one so hot it burned white into his soul. He didn’t know where it came from or how or why but it didn’t matter. He would let this flame take him if it meant he could have you.

Sehun wanted to laugh at the way he felt, to brush it off and make it nothing, but he couldn’t. It meant too much to him that he should sit there and see you sleep or hear your heartbeat. It meant too much to him to hear you laugh or watch you smile. It meant too much for him to know he was part of the reason you started feeling better and that he brought you out of your own hell and you did him.

With a quiet inhale, he came closer to you. His thumb found a little spot on your cheek to rub at and his lips came to your forehead and there was nothing to say, if only too much to say. He wondered if you knew how much he adored you from top to toe, in such a manner as he never had anyone before. Though, he supposed that, when you flickered your eyes open and focused to see him, you did.

“Good morning,” you whispered, voice broken and throat dry. Your cheeks bunched up as you smiled, eyes closing and arms coming for a stretch. It took all there was in Sehun not to just tell you then, profess it in all ways known to man and unknown as well. All he did was smile back and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, murmuring ever so quietly:

“Good morning, y/n.”

You picked your head up from the mail to meet his eyes, sweet and expectant and shining like he’d just said the kindest thing ever. With a light smile, he took his seat across from you and you tossed the mail to the far side of the table, willing to dedicate yourself to the conversation.

“Me too,” you murmured lightly. He began uncovering the dishes you set out for dinner when you hummed, “but you do need to see your friends too.”

“I never say I wouldn’t.” His voice was steady but he didn’t look at you and it caused your lips to press together cautiously.

“I just don’t want to make it- make you feel trapped.” You hoped to stop the quiver in your voice, switching spots as you now grabbed dinner and he grabbed salad.

“That’s not what it feels like, y/n,” he huffed, head notching to the side as he spoke, “why is this always an argument with you?”

Halfway between picking up your utensils, you sighed and placed them down brashly. Giving him a stern look and straightening, off-put by the way he pronounced your name, you said, “we’re not arguing, Hwitaek.”

He simply clicked his tongue, muttering something under his breath as he began to eat. His head faced down and his movements were sharp in the citric lighting, eliciting a ‘what?’ from you.

“I said I’m not you, y/n,” he repeated, emphasizing your name again. The two of you hardly referred to each other with your legal names, finding them distant. Neither of you related to the sentiment behind them, Hwi even genuine wanting to change it, so you refrained from it. Rather than feeling personal when you said each other’s names, you were both so unattached to them that it felt more like an insult.

From that, to the poison in his voice, and to the way he used your past as a weapon against you, you found yourself hurt. He must have seen this on your face, his features melting as his mouth opened. “That’s not-”

“Eat by yourself,” you muttered, taking the napkin from your lap and throwing it beside your plate. The scraping of the chair against the floor as you got up from your seat resembled metal scratching metal.

“Ba- babe, please,” he seemed to plead, getting up after you and following you to the door. You were slipping on your winter boots when he placed his hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you around.

“Leave me alone,” you spat, shifting in order to get out from under his touch. This caused a flash of hurt in his eyes, hand falling to his side. You stared at one another for a brief moment, a scowl deep on your face and something so unsure on his lips. You watched as he took a step back, straightening his jaw and squaring his shoulders, body rigid.

Before he turned away from you, he muttered bitterly, “why do you always run away?”

You didn’t follow his retreating figure, sick of chasing after people and wanting someone to chase after you just once. You stood at the front for long enough to hear him start cleaning the table. When you stepped out, shutting the door behind you, you heard a muffled yell and distant shattering. It was only imaginable what a mess you two must have looked like: your eyes squeezed shut and back pressed against the door while he huffed over a counter and gripped the edge of it. The sinking of your stomach was the only thing you could feel, the chill and grey clouds completely insignificant. You loved him, you did, but sometimes you wondered if it was even worth it.

Act 3, Scene 6: Dive 

The door was tugged open the moment you removed your keys from your pocket. Hwitaek looked at you cautiously, eyeing your long coat and your face as if to see if anything had happened; and then, he slung his arms around your waist and relaxed immensely. The breath he held was released immediately past your ear and his body formed around yours like it belonged there. Taking steps forward, you moved inside, foot closing the door behind you as you walked into your shared apartment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, kissing the top of your head before you angled your chin up to look at him.

“It was my fault,” you murmured, hands trailing up to rest between his shoulder blades. Staring into those thickly protected eyes of his when you first met, you never would’ve guessed what you could see now. There was sadness and regret and such frailty that made you press yourself closer into him at the shake of his head.

“No, I- I shouldn’t have said what I said. It’s unfair to you and I hate that it came to my mind because you told me that in confidence. I shouldn’t have used it against you.” He sounded so serious and it was scary how he could read your mind like that. He knew exactly why you were upset and though his apologies weren’t extravagant, they were what you needed to hear.

Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his and hummed, “it’s okay.”

When you rested your head on his chest, you heard the soft beating of his heart and tried to match yours to it. He wrapped himself tighter around you, creating a home for himself. The two of you sat in a heavy silence for a few moments, minds racing. The mixed cologne and food still lingering on his shirt, the closing of your eyes, the steadiness of his heart beat against your ear: they all overwhelmed you for reasons he didn’t understand.

That much was obvious from his reaction when you started crying. He took it well enough though, apologizing and asking if you wanted your favourite tea and looking frantic as he ran around for something to comfort you. You were somehow on the couch with him, head on his chest and clutching him so tightly as you reclined. He asked you what was wrong but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The guilt of wanting someone else weighed down on you and the more you thought of it, the more you wanted to be alone. Yet, the more you wanted to be alone, the more you wanted to be with Hwitaek.

He placed little kisses into your forehead and relieved the stress in your hands by holding them. He took care of you like no one ever had and you needed that. You needed him despite all things. That only made you hurt more.

“I love you,” he said so quietly, you would have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. It wasn’t the first he’d ever said it but these words were few and far between, adding so much weight to the times where he would confess to you. Every time he said it, the more you were torn in half and the more you wanted to let him go for is own good.

Looking up at him through watered eyes, you caught the gravity in his eyes and were compelled to say it back. The lightness of the smile and the thumb that ran under your eyes caused the first solidifying of your heart, as if he was gluing back together what you’d destroyed when you were with Wooseok, though he knew nothing of it.

“How about we watch a shitty movie and eat in bed?” Hwi suggested, giving you a hopeful look. He was really doing his best, never knowing how to deal with anyone crying but always trying his hardest.

This caused you to nod before you shifted upwards to kiss him again and again. There wasn’t an urgency in this but that didn’t mean it lacked any sort of passion and somehow, you felt a blossoming in your stomach. You hated to admit it but you thrived around him and everywhere his hands touched you meant new flowers were planted in your skin. It was beautiful and yet sad because most gardens died in the winter and you were nearing the end of fall.

“I’ll make some popcorn,”he chimed, getting up and moving towards the kitchen. You stayed on the couch, unmoving and missing his warmth. You used your elbow to prop you up and watched him walk into the next room.

The teal of his sweater and the white t-shirt peeking out from under contrasted so nicely with his skin. His jeans were cuffed, suiting him in ways that made every pair of jeans you saw like that remind you of him. His hair was growing out, though the undercut was still there, and the top part that shifted as he moved his head was a fading tan. When he turned to tell you to get dressed for bed, the curve of his lips was outlined by the light and it made you smile.

“Yeah, I’m going,” you hummed, waving him away and sniffling lightly. His teeth were put on display as his lips parted over them and he looked so encouraged before disappearing fully around the corner.

Slowly getting up, you studied the house. From where you were, you could hear Hwitaek in the kitchen, opening a floor to ceiling cabinet he really wanted to get from whatever furniture store you’d gone in to buy some of your essentials. The whole place came more or less furnished and it explained the odd extravagance of it. The couch was a deep teal and plump, but always so comfortable. Hwi laid thin covers on top of it and called the style bohemian when you first moved in, looking very proud of himself. Every part of this house had Hwi and you mixed into it. Where he took the couch, you took the coffee table in front of it. Where he painted the walls in the living room, you painted the walls in bathroom and bedroom. Everything was even and it looked well put together. You couldn’t deny you were proud.

The living room bled into the dining room, which was open and had a basic deep brown wooden table paired with an odd looking vase and some fake flowers as the centrepiece. The vase depicted a man holding a picture which had the man holding the same picture and so on and so forth. Hwi had picked it up from a weird shop off the street. You thought it was comically wonderful and structured very well and so, there it stood. You could look around and find a story behind everything and, as you walked through the dining room and made a right to get to the kitchen, you felt the slightest bit filled.

“By the way,” he called over the shifting of plates and raising his voice much louder than it needed to be, “I talked to Hyojong. I’m going to see him on Thursday.”

“That sounds great,” you said, unenthusiastically . Peeking around the corner to the kitchen, you listened to him speak and admired how at home he looked.

“We’re going to Jinho’s and the rest should be there too. They’re all bringing someone so I thought you might want to come.” He still spoke as if you were in the bedroom, far from him. You hummed lightly, wrapping your arms around his thinning waist and resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“Okay,” was all you said. Hwitaek, who paused for the slightest moment when you hugged him, still went about his business, moving with you in step to grab a bowl for the popcorn. The bag was resting in the microwave, flat and smeared with butter. When he closed the door to the microwave and pressed a few buttons to get it started, you saw his smile grow in the reflection of the door.

“What happened to getting dressed for bed? The movie?”

You shrugged, nestling closer to him. You sniffled when you breathed still but being with him like this was something you found yourself enjoying. It was light and free and when he turned to face you and brushed your hair out of your face, you saw yourself melting into him. His fingers fixed strands behind your ear as you murmured that it wasn’t important what you were going to do. He raised his eyebrows, not the least surprised but teasing you and you enjoyed it. As you leaned further into him and his lips pressed to yours, you wanted to build a home here. You’d spent two years with him and now, finally now, you were ready to bring that dream of having a home be a person into reality.

You got lost in this kiss that, when the microwave went off, you both jumped. His hands moved to open the door, to shut up the stupid machine so you could just stay the way you were but it didn’t work. He ended up swiping the stack of mail that he’d moved to the counter off the marble and you snickered, watching him get frustrated.

Picking up the mail while he muttered about how nothing goes his way, you smiled at his antics. He could be a child sometimes but it was funny nonetheless. In the stack of bills and promotions, you caught a deep blue envelope and picked it out among the rest. You inspected it, turning it over but it seemed so ordinary. The brand wasn’t fancy, the paper was thin as well as the letter it enclosed. There was nothing special about it and yet, you didn’t set it aside.

“Do you know what this is?” you asked offhandedly, though it had your name on the receiving stamp. Hwi was behind you now but he fit his head perfectly on your shoulder and shrugged. The bowl was hot and near your side, the feeling almost uncomfortable.

“No idea.”

You hummed, picking at the sticker. Half of you didn’t want to open it, the feeling in your stomach building ridiculously and you felt the nausea threatening to come about. The other half, compelled by Hwi’s suggestion, peeled the sticker from the bottom and flicked the flap up. Upon seeing the words written in a perfectly typed cursive, you felt you were right in being nauseous. You held it back and closed the envelope with shaking hands.

“Babe?” Hwitaek’s voice sounded far away. “Who’s Wooseok?”

“Please don’t say his name,” you whispered, leaning to put the envelope back on the counter. It nearly slipped off but rested precariously on the edge. You nearly felt the discontent in Hwi’s voice as he spoke, setting down the popcorn bowl.

“Is that him?”

The question was quiet but heavy and you didn’t know what him he was referring to. Any him was a him you didn’t want to remember, especially this man who creeped into your dreams and suffocated you with the way he wanted to love you- with the way he did love you.

You were unmoving and it gave Hwi the only answer he needed. He sighed lightly and there was a pause, like he was deciding what to do. You didn’t look at much of the letter, none of it but the first line. You knew the handwriting from the start but the name he used, the one that swallowed your heart confirmed it. Then his name in a cliche, ‘it’s me’ statement. As if you wouldn’t already know, like you hadn’t spent hours pouring over the lyrics he once wrote in countless journals, on napkins at dinner, on your arm when there was nothing but the pen in his pocket. As if you weren’t captivated by his use of anything but your name in the introduction. As if you needed him to say who he was so everything could tear down again- everything you tried so hard to built and so hard to forget.

While you were upset, you were confused. After all this time, all these two years of radio silence? You hadn’t called him. You hadn’t been ready and you doubted you ever would be. You could change but you were scared if you could change for him or if you would fall back into that sickening pattern that you hated yourself for- that you cried over every day remembering it. He said not to call him, not to do anything unless you were ready. Did this mean he was ready?

Your mind spun faster than straw into gold and it was hard to keep up. The only stabilizing thing was Hwitaek, who picked up the popcorn bowl from before and walked towards the room. He had paused in the dining room to look at you, eyes kind but sheltered, hiding. Your fingers were still shaking but you let them come into his when he outstretched his arm. His smile was soft and lit up his face until his cheeks, resting there like a setting sun.

“Want to still watch that movie?”

You nodded, wordless and nauseous and feeling like hell. What you needed was to be in bed and held, by anyone who was willing to give it to you. Deep down, you were glad it was Hwi, knowing he would take your mind off Wooseok for long enough for you to fall asleep. He rubbed his thumb down yours in warm circles and talked as if nothing happened and you let yourself fall into it, wanting not to remember anything but the future you planned- the one that was comfortable and simple and effortless. The one without him.

Act 3, Scene 7: Don’t Leave Me

As expected, most of the guests at the small dinner party Hwi spoke about flopped. It was funny making bets on who would show up though. The bets went horribly, everyone’s patterns really erratic and unpredictable except one. Hyojong was always a given, seeing as he was always free and hardly made time for anything but his friends. The bet with him was if he’d really bring a date, which he did once and you owed Hwi quite a lot of favours for it but that was worth it for the both of you at the end of the day. Besides, you won tonight, saying it would be Hyojong and Shinwon who showed up.

Hwi offered to pay up immediately, being in a good mood that night. You could tell from the way he slipped his hands between your thighs and slid the material of your dress up higher under the table. You would have generally been upset about this, wondering what the waiter would think or his friends if they found out but the twinkle in his eyes was convincing enough. You smiled and played off most of his other advances, making his arm retreat to the back of your chair, where his fingers ran shapes into your shoulder. The action wasn’t enough to be dramatically romantic but you found yourself never wanting him to stop.

Hyojong’s laugh was sweet that night, hitting your ear like a chord strummed right. Your smile mimicked his, loud and wide, and the whole table followed his lead. Your bodies shook with laughter, absolutely caught in his odd sense of humour and captured by his presence. Those tired eyes of his were wide and alert and he seemed to have come alive, more than usual tonight. You wondered what had happened but didn’t ask, thinking it too personal for the casual dinner. You were glad to see he was enjoying himself but more so happy to see Hwitaek beaming, genuinely happy outside of home and work.

You had been living together for a year and friends for two before and he had always been a homebody. He was a sucker for domesticity and it showed when he said he wanted to stay home and cook with you, watch movies, or listen to music in bed while napping. Sometimes, you missed the adventure of the past, where you would stay out until four in the morning with friends or where you wouldn’t spend more than a day home consecutively. It was exciting but sometimes, you looked forward to having someone to come home to and having a heart to lay beside yours. Though, the both of you were graduating from your second degree soon, Hwitaek being a year ahead of you, and he was looking for jobs that meant he’d float and go abroad and be on business trips. This scared you, knowing things would change between you but you didn’t want it to. You wanted to stay here, at this table, in this moment, where adulthood didn’t have a chance of catching up with you at all.

“Okay, god, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Hyojong groaned, cheeks red. You watched him throw down his napkin on the table and get up, Shinwon following closely after.

He flashed his phone at you and Hwi, saying lightly, “I need to make a quick call. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Alright,” Hwi chimed while you leaned forward, propping your head up with your chin resting on your palm. You raised your eyebrows quickly, moving them up and down with a devilish grin. Shinwon gave you a slightly uncomfortable look while you did so, knowing what you were insinuating but you said it nonetheless.

“Yeah, you get that date with your boss, Won. We’re rooting for you.”

He flushed the lightest bit, contrasting with the black turtleneck he was wearing. He fixed his jean jacket on top of his thick sweater and clicked his tongue, trying to play off that he was embarrassed as he walked away. Shinwon might have murmured something but you had turned to Hwi and suddenly, he was the only thing that mattered.

His eyes were on you, looking at you so lovingly and you could practically tell what he was thinking. The two of you were so akin, knowing the other without skipping a beat and it was so comforting for you to know he thought you fit in well with his friends. It was important to him. His friends had gotten him through everything, from school to the loss of his parents. It was because of this that you tried so hard around them, wanting to be liked.

You pressed your hand against his cheek, leaning in closer. The chiming of your bracelets as they hit each other died out and he took his chance to speak, covering your wrist with his fingers.

“I’m happy,” he hummed, so soft and only for you to hear, “thank you for suggesting we do this.”

Leaning in, you placed a sweet kiss on his lips. The hand that was on the back of your chair came to your head, holding you in place for a moment and leaning into you again. It made you smile, not knowing what you did to deserve this treatment. There was something heavy in the way he kissed, like it meant so much more than he wanted it to look like it did and you could feel it in the way he took the air from your lungs when you pulled away.

“What?” You laughed a bit, looking at him almost as if he had constellations in his irises, “why are you being so sweet?”

“Are you saying I’m not always this sweet?” His eyebrows arch up, so playful and kind, contrasted with the edge of his chin and the strength of his cheekbones.

You simply shook your head but leaned in again and felt a familiar leap in your chest. The heart you didn’t think would beat again for anyone else seemed to thump once, heavy and skipping its regular routine. This excited you, giving you hope that there was something more than the bitterness you felt and the comfortability- the stagnancy of an unexceptional relationship. There was more out there from Hwi, something more you couldn’t tap into yet but you wanted to. You desperately wanted to see what more he had hidden, underneath those layers of skin and protected hearts that he gave to you but never in whole. He had been holding back, especially since you heard of Wooseok again and you received the letter, which you hadn’t read yet.

Since the letter, you had erupted. Whatever you were trying to hold back from Hwi was revealed and you told him everything, who Wooseok was, what you’d done, the mistakes you made even when you and Hwi had met. He braced it for you, wiping away whatever tears came to your eyes and asking for you to continue but you could tell it bothered him. He felt you were torn between him and Woo, explicitly telling you this. Both of you knew it was true and it hurt his pride. The words he said that night though, they stuck. They forced the wheels of change to turn again, asking you to be better and you wanted to rise to the challenge.

He looked at you just a few days after getting the letter, the both of you in bed. You were undressed, lying on top of him and drawing clouds into his bare chest and up his collarbone. He had moved the blanket down so far that it covered just the bottom of you but the way his fingers ran up and down the indent of your spine filled you with enough warmth. It was quiet but he hummed lowly, drawing your attention from his skin to his face. He didn’t stop his movements but he looked hesitant, like he couldn’t bear to ask what he was going to and yet, asking it anyways.

“Have you been in love with him this whole time?”

Tearing your eyes from his stare, you paused and thought about what to say. Nothing substantial came to mind, keeping your mind quiet. It wasn’t a yes and, then again, it wasn’t a no. This was enough for him to nod, fingers hypnotizing and homely as they continued their slow journey up and down the curves of your bone.

“That’s okay,” he whispered so silently, trying to hide his disappointment at the answer but it was almost as if he expected it. The way he looked at you was understanding and this attitude, the one that accepted all of you this way hurt because you didn’t deserve someone this sweet to you.

“I’m not mad now but if you want this- us- to continue, you have to stop. I didn’t want to waste the time we’ve had together. It hasn’t been a waste; but I don’t want to share you. Don’t make me.”

You nodded, splaying your hands across his chest and creating a place for you to rest your chin without poking into him. He adjusted to sit up slightly and look at you properly. His fingers came up and brushed the hair behind your ear, the gravity in every movement and every word said not missed.

“Please don’t make me leave,” he breathed, broken and resilient and your heart shattered. He was hurt, the look in his eyes so innocent and discouraged. It sparked water to spill from yours and you nodded again.

As you leaned up to kiss him, you knew he meant he would leave if you didn’t stop. The threat wasn’t forgotten and you let him know that you were serious. You were going to try for him now, as best as you could.

So, being at dinner with him and his friends was you trying to come full circle and trying to grow- trying to be better. Telling his friends stories about him, letting them in on the world you’d closed them out of for a long time and seeing Hwi beam brighter than the sun, these all made it worth it, Watching him was enough to make you sure that you could try, just as long as nothing more happened. You wanted to focus on him and no one else and you were going to do your best. Though, you supposed there are always other plans in motion.

Act 3, Scene 8: Walking In Time

The house was near silent as you padded down your hallways. Hwi had woken up, asked you where you were going as you gently tossed the blankets off you. he wasn’t totally coherent but you knew he could hear you. All you had to do was lean in and give him a quiet kiss, murmuring something about being thirsty. He wouldn’t complain, only turn around and go back to sleep. That was what he did, though he kissed you back just a bit stronger than usual. You wondered if that meant he would stay awake until you climbed back into bed but, when you walked back in, fingers shaking with a cup and letter in hand, you found him sprawled once more. He was dead asleep, small snores coming up through his throat.

Usually, it would annoy you but tonight was different. You needed to be alone, finding the eerily silent house, filled with only breathing, a comfort. Desperately, you needed to be alone. You needed to unwrap this letter. You needed to know what exactly had ripped the strings that so tightly strangled you and kept you together. You needed to know why and where and how- how did he find you and why now? 

Fingers still shaking, long thin cardigan trailing behind you as you walked, you mulled it over. Why was it that you couldn’t just be comfortable? Why did he have to come in and ruin everything? He said you ruined things, that you were the problem, but it seemed that whenever you were happy- whenever you were trying to just move on and live a mediocre life- he came right back. you teetered between anger and an unknown excitement that bubbled in your chest. Even after all this time, after all of your mistakes, you were still excited to see him. It was ridiculous.

Slowly pulling out a chair at the dining room table, you took your time unravelling the letter. The sticker taping the front shut came off easier than the first time, losing its stickiness to the air in your kitchen. The flap opened and slowly, meticulously, you picked up the letter. A small part of you wished to bring it closer to your nose, to see if the scent of him was still on the paper. You didn’t particularly need to though, knowing everything about this was him. From top to bottom, it was Wooseok and it hurt.

Sunflower, 

It’s me, Wooseok. Is it weird for me to still call you sunflower? I’m sorry if it is. I’m just trying to write as authentically as I can.

I know I said that you should call me when you’re ready. I said it the last two times we broke up and yet, it seems to be me reaching out every time. Funny, isn’t it? Or is that irony? I don’t know, you were always better at the language stuff.

What I actually want to say is that I was told to write a few things to the people who have wronged me. I started seeing a therapist and they said that maybe I’m so troubled by a lot of things because I haven’t let them go so, here I am. Trying to let it go. I don’t know where to start though. Should I start at the beginning or only when it started to hurt? No, I think I’ll start from when I was happy. Yeah. There.

Okay, I just want to say that I don’t think you ever made me truly unhappy until after we broke up. Before then, like I said, I was always, always happy. Sure, we fought and we got jealous and we stormed out on each other but it felt okay because we apologized. We came back to each other. We loved each other. I think that’s why I took it so hard when we broke up. I didn’t get it because I didn’t get what I did wrong.

I get now that it’s not about people doing anything wrong. You just didn’t feel it was going anywhere, that you had manipulated me and, honestly, maybe you did. I don’t know what the signs are like and I haven’t been able to pinpoint them. But I think what made me upset was that there was no closure. You never gave me an explanation until the second time around and I was too childish to just listen to you and talk it out. Maybe I was just afraid of getting hurt though, maybe you were pushing me. I feel like I’ll maybe never know.

The thing is that I still don’t feel like I have closure. I never have and I never will, I fear. Although, talking about it has made me feel better. even writing this feels good, you know? I’m moving forward and I want you to know that. I’m not trying to get you back with this. In fact, I feel like it’s more of a goodbye, maybe. Not forever but just until I get better because really, I want to see you. I want to know how you’re doing. I want you to know I’m not mad at you.

When everything’s okay, when we fix ourselves, I hope we find our ways back to each other as friends. Until then, I hope you’re well. My phone number hasn’t changed so, there’s always that. So, yeah. See you soon, maybe.

- Wooseok.

P.s: I heard about Hwitaek and you moving in together. Vernon doesn’t seem to approve but Jisoo’s kinda proud of you. Says you’re growing up. How’s that going? I hope well. And I hope you’re still close with Jisoo and Heeji. I think they might miss you. Don’t make Hwi your whole world. Go out, be happy, work. Make your life like you told me to make mine.

Tear drops dried into the paper, your throat closing in on itself. You couldn’t decide a single thing about how you felt, though your body seemed to know quite well. It was melodramatic and anticlimactic, not at all the letter you expected to get. In fact, it was one you didn’t want to get, the sobs in your throat building into something louder. You couldn’t cry though, you couldn’t show that to yourself. You didn’t want to.

Wooseok being happy and trying to move forward- it broke your spirit. It was all you wanted and now, hearing about it only made you sad. You couldn’t deny that you wanted to be there to see it. You wanted to see him smile and be happy, go out with his friends, create a career and life for himself. He seemed so stuck but this gave you hope that he was doing something. His words sounded so hopeful and wonderful and your heart prayed for him to feel better.

Though, you supposed you were crying most for the feelings in your heart at the last bit. He wished for your happiness. He was concerned about you. He wanted you to grow and perhaps that hurt the most because it meant he still cared. You still cared. Sitting on that chair at the dinner table, the tears couldn’t stop themselves. You felt overwhelmed, happy and miserable all at once. No words could quite explain how you felt, how being called Sunflower meant something more than your life. You shook, silently holding yourself, crumpling the paper, destroying yet one more thing.

How was it that him fixing himself led to your undoing?

The woman looked so pale, though her spirits were rather high. She tried to chatter along but her little laughs and her jokes were spaced out and breathy. It caused concern to fester in your heart at the crumpled lady in front of you. Her arm was resting beside her, eyes downcast and trying to focus on herself. She was looking for a centre to cling onto, not even noticing when you placed Sehun’s clothes beside her and knelt down. You looked for her eyes and she didn’t give them to you, though she did squeeze your hand.

Her thumb jaggedly ran up and down your skin, cold against your palm. Slowly, rackety, she murmured, “you’re really good to him.”

Choosing not to say anything about that, you pressed your lips together. You couldn’t fathom what she meant at all, Sehun and you weren’t even that close. Sure, you spoke often but somehow, it never felt like enough. You never felt like you gave enough to him, choosing to be closed when he was open. It was a hard give and take and you weren’t used to it. You felt lacking and it was difficult for you to take what she said to heart. She may know Sehun well but she didn’t know you.

All you could do to show her you heard was give her cool fingers another pulse. You watched her eyes blink, slowly lifting to meet yours. Her arm slid down, both hands now cupping yours. She leaned in, smelling like sweet perfume again, and a saddened smile stretched across her thin lips. As she patted your hands, she nodded.

“Yes. You make him happy.”

“Grandma,” Sehun slurred together, coming down the stairs quickly as he slipped a shirt over his chest. The small glimpse of his body gave your head a little turn away so as to not stare. Though, when you blinked, the sight of it was just inside your eyelids.

The elderly lady turned her eyes from you and gave him a nice smile, one made of love but also a hidden secret. Sehun didn’t seem to notice, only going to grab his keys as he found a hat. They were slapping against each other like chimes as he spoke, looking at himself intently in the small mirror in the hallway.

“Do you mind if I stay the weekend? I want to visit Chanyeol,” he mumbled, turning his head to one side and cursing slightly under his breath as he tucked a hair under his hat, “we haven’t seen each other in a while and he messaged me.”

“You’re asking me?” The woman sounded incredulous, though her quiet ‘thank you’ as you picked up some of Sehun’s clothes was sweet. “You’ve never done that before. Who are you trying to impress?”

“Which way?” you hummed, foot on a step to put the clothes just upstairs. Sehun, in the middle of making an unimpressed face at his grandmother, leaped at you and exclaimed a panicked ‘no!’.

The jump in your shoulders was less so noticeable than the jump of your eyebrows, lips parting. Grandma Oh chuckled lightly as Sehun grasped his clothes lightly, taking them from your arms and saying he’d bring them upstairs. You didn’t quite protest, though Oh’s laugh did bring a smile to your lips. When you turned to look at her, still on the couch with a royal blue dress on and her hair wonderfully braided, your smile grew.

“Wouldn’t want you seeing his pigsty of a bedroom is all,” she chuckled, shaking her head and waving her hand around. With a little sigh, she leaned back and exhaled, “what a boy.”

As you left the town, the sun set further and further until it was hardly seen. Day faded into night and it was comfortable enough in the car, neither of you feeling all too compelled to speak. Well, that was hardly the truth. You did want to speak to him, to say anything but he didn’t seem to give you a second thought. It was like you were just a passenger he was taking to and from town- just an excuse to get out for a weekend.

He must be tired, you thought as you picked at your nails, he was with the kids the entire day, more than you were. The thought brought you guilt and, with validity, you had a reason to open your mouth.

“Thank you.”

He turned his head just slightly from the road, which was illuminated from his car’s bright headlights. There was hardly anyone on the street, which wasn’t a surprise, but Sehun was being a diligent driver. Hat still on, tilted just slightly downwards so it covered his eyes, he looked so professional. His left hand lay leisurely on the wheel and his right was on his thigh earlier but somehow,, it had migrated to the gearshift and lay there comfortably. Despite this, despite trying to seem at ease, there was tension in his neck. His jaw tightened at your voice and his shoulders squared. It might have caused a beat in your heart to skip, tripping just slightly as you watched him swallow air.

“For what?”

The fact that he asked it as if he didn’t know might have bothered you more but it was hot in the car. Your skin was pink and you felt flushed, words lost in thick air. Though, there came an impatient sigh as a defense and you shook your head. “Come on, Sehun.”

All he did was gift you a small smile, cheek twitching but the entirety of his lips stretched. Left hand gripping the wheel just slightly harder, he murmured, “it’s no problem, y/n. I offered before and I would’ve kept offering. This isn’t a big deal for me.”

“It is for me,” you stated, being candid. You watched as his eyebrows moved up just slightly, disappearing into his hat before coming back out.

“Oh?”

The response was half mumbled, not particularly present but you knew he heard you. He was paying attention and it was in the way his upper body seemed slightly turned and his back straightened. He was alert, waiting for your next words which were held back by the picking of your nails and the biting of your tongue. You found yourself in a lot of these ‘now or never’ situations, where it felt like if you didn’t say what you had to, you never would. They gave you massive anxiety while also giving you massive relief after and it was just a matter of choosing. Which was it that you were going to choose?

Pulling your lips in, you took a small breath and began with, “we haven’t known each other for long at all but you’ve never failed to be the nicest. That means a lot to me. You’ve treated me normally, as you would anyone else. That means a lot to me. You’ve made me feel a little less alone and that means a lot to me too.

“I don’t know how to repay that so I’m saying thank you; and I hope to maybe do something as significant as that for you.” The shaking of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by you and certainly not him, whose head snapped to your face when it began. Though, his eyes were back on the road now and he was biting down on his bottom lip. He seemed to be thinking, taking his right hand and lifting his hat off his head to let his forehead free. The hat clattered to his lap, hand resting there before moving to yours.

His fingers slipped through yours, slowly and seeing if you were willing. You held him right back, the beating in your chest ringing through your ears. You’d never felt this akin to someone, especially not someone with fading apricot hair, and the way his hand fell in yours was home. It was a weight you wanted to get used to, as was the voice that came through his teeth. It was the last thing you remembered hearing from that night, before sleep wrapped you tight in its arms,, and still, it caused your heart to beat for miles and miles.

“You already have. More than you know.”

Sehun let your hand slip from his when you turned into the window to curl up. You’d fallen asleep quickly, the bags under your eyes giving away just how exhausted you were. He figured you must have been studying for long so when you drifted off, he let you. He wouldn’t dare take something away from you, not when you needed it. Especially when he had so many thoughts stirring in his head. He felt a storm in his heart and mind, like everything was amassing somewhere on a cliff he was running towards. What everything was though, he couldn’t quite say.

With the music softly playing, you seemed to breathe with every beat. Making sure to keep it within a comfortable range for you, he fixed music and changed it. He paid so much attention so as to avoid his arm but that just seemed to bother him more. He’d never cared this much, not about a single thing. Well, that was unfair to say. He loved his friends. He loved his grandmother. He loved himself. These were all givens and people he chose to let in, even if they did force their hands sometimes. Yet, you just appeared. You were made of clouds and powdered sugar and you didn’t even try. You blew with the wind and he wondered just how he’d never seen you before until now. Why did it have to be now?

A small smile of your appeared in his mind and he couldn’t help the twitching of his cheeks which forced his lips up. He felt a sort of unknown happiness in his stomach and it scared him because it made no sense. You hadn’t done a single thing to him. You’d just spoken to him, nipped at his ego, talked to his grandmother like she wasn’t an alien. You were just like pure satin. You didn’t do much and yet, you did everything. For the first time, he didn’t need someone to chip at him for him to open up; he just did it because he wanted to. That was the oddest feeling ever but he did quite love it.

He didn’t want to be difficult and he never thought he was, though people mentioned he was once or twice. This never crossed your mind, he hoped. These words never passed through your lips and, if they ever did, it was in jest. You never meant to hurt him or put him down. The squaring of his shoulders didn't intimidate you but rather made you square yours. You were stronger than him in your heart and, while most people were, you didn’t find your own strength repelling. You didn’t know you had it. Wasn’t that a wonder?

A small groan filtered through your lips, eyes tearing themselves from the road just to look at you. Your eyes flitted back and forth quickly beneath your eyelids, which Sehun read was only done when someone was dreaming. He wished he could see the same movie, or just know what it was that filled your mind. Was it him? Did he fill the crevices of your mind and your time alone as you did his?

Taking his cheek between his teeth, he leaned the slightest bit forward and turned the heat up. A small fragment of a conversation you’d once had on the bench, watching the boys filled his mind. Your pinkies were nearly pressed against each other’s, which you pretended not to notice as you squinted out on the playground and spoke about your sleeping habits. He called you a sea creature in the morning, noting that you had your hair tied in the worst way and frizz everywhere. You simply scoffed, shaking your head.

“It was just really cold last night and I didn’t have my heater,” you huffed, moving your pinky the slightest bit away from his, “so of course I looked like a mess. I couldn’t sleep.”

He only found himself laughing back then. Even now, Sehun found a little chuckle on his lips and he couldn’t decide why. Why were your antics so amusing to him? Why was it that your jokes, as terrible as they were, made him laugh? Was this what it means to find yourself falling for someone? He asked his grandmother about it, hoping to be discrete. Though, it wasn’t hard for her to figure out who he meant. She wouldn't dare say your name, not wanting to embarrass him, but he could see it. In his grandmother’s eyes, there was a knowing.

“Your grandfather made the worst jokes,” she murmured, leaning back in her seat to stretch out her spine. There was a fondness on her lips as she spoke, mustiness in her eyes as she remembered. It caused a warm tightening in his chest.

“I think that was my favourite thing about him. He could make me laugh no matter what. Though, I suppose, it could have just been his face.” She added the last bit as a joke, giving you a hearty laugh that resided in her stomach.

Sehun had seen it, what love does to people. He always thought it destroyed them, made them upset and caused terrible hurting. He wasn’t prepared to ever let someone drown him in a sea of love- a sea of treacherous waters and mistakes. He didn’t want to let that ever happen to him and yet, listening to you breathe was somehow enough to let him make those first few steps. His feet left dry sand and slowly, slowly, he walked to the shore. He waited for your hand to come in his before he would take anymore steps forward. If he was going somewhere, he would rather it be with you than anyone else.

The next day went by like a blur. It was almost as if you didn’t do an exam. All you could properly remember was sitting down in your seat and picking up your pen. Everything else sort of blended together like paint. The next thing you knew, you were inside Heeji’s apartment, lying on the couch with nothing to do. It was hotter in the city, which made you resort to lying around in just a long top that was big enough to let air flow through it from the windows opened around the apartment.

It was a quaint place, painted various pastels. There were various pictures on the walls, some of Heeji alone, some of her with her family, some of her dog back home. You walked around slowly, never really paying attention to them until now. As you looked, you could find no picture of you two together and made a note to make fun of her for it. Heeji would either feel terrible outwardly or pretend like she didn’t but you weren’t looking to hurt her. It was all fun and games and, eventually, you’d be on the wall too. You just hadn’t seen each other in a long time- not doing anything significant to warrant pictures. Neither of you were quite fond of them, though she photographed nicely.

Bored as ever from looking at the pictures on the walls and going through her empty fridge and cabinets, you sat down on the couch again and sighed. There was nothing to do but sit around and wait and you hated that. If you had known, you would’ve brought something to paint with. You thought of everything you could have created. There was a beautiful park smashed between two buildings just down the road and there was a restaurant that arranged flowers outside of it in words of encouragement. There was the garden patio on the roof of this building even. Most of all, though, there was Sehun.

A man made of colour and ice and you thought of it for a very brief moment. The colours he would be made of would be nothing made on this earth and yet, everything that mimicked home. He would be here and there and not at all. It would fill your dreams if you painted it, that much you knew. For the life of you though, you never felt such a burning need to put someone down in ink like that.

With a slight ring, you were taken from your thoughts. You debated not picking up your phone but there came another text and you huffed. Whoever it was, you didn’t think you’d be in the mood. Yet, it was him and suddenly, all your brain cared for was the conversation he had started.

Sehun: Hey

Sehun: How’d the exam go?

Feeling slightly like you were walking on eggshells, you slid the messages open so the entire app was before you. Slowly, you typed a small response, hoping it’d be enough to leave something to relate to- to talk about.

Me: Fine, i think? I kinda blanked out while doing it

He read the message in a second, already on his phone. Your heart, despite itself, fluttered slightly. The little dots at the bottom of the screen appeared and disappeared as messages, one after another, sent.

Sehun: haha yeah I do that too

Sehun: you free?

Me: yeah, Heeji has stuff so she’s not home

The response took a moment, but he had read your message. With slight curiosity, your brain worked at why he would ask if you were free and then only read your message. What was he thinking? Just as you began another message, he began one as well and you quickly let it go. He seemed to do the same and, while you waited, your nail came between your teeth.

Sehun: want to leave a day early then?

Me: what

Sehun: yeah do you want to take a little trip somewhere on the way home

Me: like what

Sehun: dunno

Sehun: we’ll figure it out?

Narrowing your eyes, you couldn’t help but feel he was being coy. What was it that he wanted to do? Was it just going to be to spend time with you or was he looking for something more? With this in mind, your fingers slowly moved across your screen, reluctantly pressing send.

Me: and if i say no?

The response was immediate, as was the smile that grew across your lips.

Sehun: then you’ll just have to take the bus back

Me: ouch I’d hate that

Sehun: hahahahaha

Me: omg whaat

Sehun: didn’t you tell me you loved the bus a while ago? Liar ~

Mouth slightly ajar now, you shifted in your seat. He was being extra cheeky today and you couldn’t help but find it attractive. You wondered what happened to him, if the city made him more himself or unlike himself? Whichever it was, you weren’t necessarily complaining, simply feeling the blush on your cheeks as you got up to get changed.

Me: shfhsk okay yeah I’ll get dressed

Sehun: avoiding the question?

Opening the message, you snorted and didn’t respond. Hustling to the bathroom, begging for something to go right with your hair today, he sent more.

Sehun: wow, leaving me on read

Sehun: alright I’ll be there in thirty

Me: great :)

You wondered if he smiled while he read the message and said nothing back, though you knew it was slightly hopeful. As you tied your hair up and hoped for the best, you held onto this. You knew he was chasing you in a sense. He asked for dates, he smiled, he texted first. He clearly had some intentions but, to you, they were unclear. Was it just simply a want to be close to you or was it something more? In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had other motives, like some purpose was behind every move he made.

You couldn’t count the times these thoughts circulated your head, making your heart beat irregularly and your hands shake. You didn’t notice how bad it was until you over lined your lip and especially when your lettering was off in your note to Heeji. You’d set a timer for thirty minutes and, as the clock counted down, you blamed the uneasiness on the deadline you’d set yourself. Somehow, you managed to make it. You didn’t do much but everything was just enough to look presentable.

Staring at yourself in the front mirror where you’d stick the note for Heeji, you weren’t disappointed. You had on slightly large jeans, straight legged and cut just before the ankle. Your shirt was tucked in, a light button up that required a material bra under, and your shoes were slightly heeled and brown. It wasn’t normal but it wasn’t abnormal for you. The only thing you really wanted was for Sehun to be impressed. Would he think you were as pretty as you felt?

There wasn’t enough time to think about it, you decided, simply sticking the note onto the mirror and grasping your bags. You wanted to be prompt and kept a look out for the time. There was only two minutes left, so you hurried. Your heart raced. Your fingers buzzed. You wondered if this was what it felt like to finally feel alive: if somehow, people got saved from their charred selves. There was excitement on your lips and the fire in your heart quelled. It wasn’t dangerous and instead built itself up into excitement. You were ready.

Sehun’s call reached your ears just as the elevator doors to the ground floor opened. Your alarm was also right on time, creating a slightly unsettling cacophony from your phone which you tried to shut up. He was leaning against his car though, phone up to his ear and head facing sideways, looking down the street. He looked so causal, backed with a sleek black car and a grey building with dark windows. The plants on the street did everything they could to light up his skin from within, his squinting eyes making him look so standoffish. Sometimes, you wondered why he even wore his stupid black hat if he was going to squint anyways, but the smile on your painted lips was already poking through.

From his dusted boots all the way up his slim-cut jeans and his tucked in tee, he was gorgeous. The only offsetting thing might have been the frown on his lips formed from your lack of picking up the phone. Yet, his lips picked themselves up, eyes catching yours through the large glass panel of the building’s ground floor. He didn’t have to do much, or anything at all, but he beckoned you forward. He grinned larger, he waved and hit the brim of his hat with his thumb on his hand’s way down, and you were off. You opened doors and met him with a light smile, sun hitting your cheeks in a way that didn’t seem to annoy you for once. Was it the sun that hadn’t changed or was it just you?

“Hi,” he chimed, shifting upwards from his hips to swing himself into standing upright. You only repeated it back, tightening your grip on your bag. What was it that people did when they met each other for a day out? Was it a hug or a kiss? Was it nothing? Your heart couldn’t decide on a single thing, though his seemed to.

His hand came to your elbow and pulled you the slightest bit closer. It was enough space to be comfortable but close enough that he could sneak an arm around your shoulders and hold you. You didn’t quite react until he pulled away, though your hand caught onto his arm for a moment before sliding down. Internally, you wondered how much of an idiot you had to be, though you hoped it didn’t show on your face.

“In the back?” He grasped your bag without question, letting it slip through your fingers like butter. You only gave him a nod and he fixed it into the back seat, strapping it in and everything. With a cheeky grin, he murmured, “so your baby can stay safe on the ride.”

“Why, thank you,” you crooned lightly. Your hands were clasped behind your back, right foot poised just slightly behind your left and heel hanging off the ground. He came closer to you, causing your head to tilt up just slightly. He looked so at peace in his eyes, which were the colour of melting chocolate. You wanted to dive right into them, shining and brighter than you’d ever seen them. They stayed on yours and waited, a blink and another coming before his mouth worked.

“You look really nice today, y/n.” His voice was soft and this made you think he really meant it. It seemed to come from within him and it filled you like a warm drink. Slightly embarrassed, your cheeks flushed and you tore your gaze from him. You landed on the ground before forcing your eyes back up, hoping to seem strong and confident.

“I’m missing my hat,” you mused, reaching up to fix a stray hair that was being blown in the wind. Sehun only shrugged.

“Then take mine.” He shifted his off head head in a moment, placing it atop your head with no pressure. The lightness in his face never left, not even as he nodded towards the car and hummed, ”let’s go?”

It took everything for you not to beam, nodding along as you fixed his hat on your head. The strap undid itself as he walked around to the driver’s side and, facing your reflection in the mirror, you caught light in eyes you were unsure you’d see again.

Perhaps, if you learned one thing that long afternoon, it was that Sehun wasn’t quiet. In fact, he talked quite a lot if he wanted to. He seemed to have a lot on his mind and it spilled off his tongue like liquid gold, forming into jewellery. It seemed like he was saying nothing, only talking of rather odd abstract ideas or the smallest, most bothersome act that someone would do which annoyed him. He talked about the fiction of dress sizes and how some stores only stock smaller clothes to shame people into losing weight and then he would move onto the fact that couples sitting beside each other in restaurants instead of across from each other bothered him.

“But why?” You arch your eyebrow up, taking your lips to the straw of the drink you’d bought. It was chilled, with little berries floating around in it and the sourly sweet taste was your favourite thing about the summer. Sehun had opted for a simple coffee, though that too was on ice.

“Because it just looks stupid,” he huffed, eyes squinted nearly shut as he looked over the people filtering by on the streets. There were many floral prints and flowing skirts, to the point where the city felt more tropical than urban. If it weren’t for the large buildings flanking the streets, you would’ve believed you were somewhere near a beach. The closest thing was the lake shore, a few streets away, and you clung onto seeing the water today, wanting to bring it up as soon as you could.

“That’s not an answer,” you hummed, never taking those simple ‘because I said so’s seriously. He only shrugged, lip coming between his teeth for a moment before he pointed at you using his drink.

“It’s just that you can’t look at the person you’re with. You spend most of your time looking at your food or out at the restaurant. It’s like you’re not even there for the person but to scope out new people to be with.” The explanation seemed long winded but you could see where he was coming from. With a small breath between his words, he continued, “it’s like now. We’re beside each other but we’re not looking at each other most of the time. We’re looking out at the street, wondering where to go next and where we’ll stop.”

“So, you just think it’s less personal?” The question slipped through your teeth as silk would pass through fabric. He turned his head to look at you for a brief moment and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The beat of your heart quickened at your own brain, wondering what would happen if you did what you thought of doing. You nearly slipped your hand in his to prove a point, saying that being beside someone did require some sort of intimacy. It was a different type of closeness, one that you could feel without having to look at it. Even the way your shoulders brushed as you walked was enough to cause goosebumps to rise on your skin. Still, you let it go, letting your mind get the best of you. If he hadn’t made any moves to hold you now, you figured that maybe he didn’t want to. Your eyes drifted from your close hands to the buildings, where sun seemed to be sweeping between the valleys of them. It was bright yellow, with small, painted clouds floating by. You felt it was perfect and yet, even with a scene as beautiful as this, fear gripped your heart. It was childish but, around him, you seemed to freeze no matter the temperature.

“I’ll make sure to sit in front of you when we stop for lunch then,” you conceded, thinking of something to say that wouldn’t sound boring. He snorted, muttering a sarcastic thanks and shaking his head. Feeling this might have been shallow, you cleared your throat and figured out something else- something that would show that you could possibly hold deeper conversation than you were used to having.

“And, if you feel uncomfortable about anything else I do or someone else does,” you started, slow and careful to avoid sounding needy, “I’d like for you to tell me so I can avoid it best I can. I wouldn’t want to do anything that upset you, especially if I didn’t mean to.”

His eyes met yours in this, cheek twitching to stretch one side of his lips upwards. With a nod, he said, “for sure.”

You followed suit, moving your gaze in front of you to stop the beating of your heart as you walked, hoping it would match the moderate pulse of your pace. It didn’t settle, not in the slightest, but you forced words out to distract yourself.

“Good, because I’ll do the same and, disclaimer, you’ll get lots of complaints.”

“Oh?” His mouth was forming now, catching onto your joke and raising his eyebrows to play along. You hummed, straw coming between your teeth for a small sip before you stretched out your arm and used the straw to jab at him.

“You’re really annoying,” you deadpanned, trying to seem as serious as you could but his snort caused a little chuckle to come out. He drew out a small sound and sighed. As if naturally finding its place, his arm came around your waist and drew you in. His head leaned against yours slightly and he seemed to be deep in thought, perhaps not feeling the way your skin instantly turned hot or the jumping in your chest.

“Maybe we should start an anonymous complaint box and take it up once a week?” he asked so nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a ridiculous thing to say. Trying to hold back your giggles, you played into his joke. Somehow, your hips met, bodies close enough to bump against each other but you were determined not to let it distract you.

“Sounds like a plan.”

From there on, your conversations spiralled. You touched surface level topics to talking about you childhood and things that used to scare you. He asked if you thought childhood fears bled into adulthood fears and you chewed on the topic over the appetizers of your lunch. You decided on mozzarella sticks, watching them stretch as you pulled them apart and smiling stupidly. They were some of your favourite foods and, you knew it was stupid, but the controlled and beautiful destruction of it filled you with some sort of joy. The destruction wasn’t in whole a terrible thing and, in fact, unlocked so many fun things. You wondered if you could be the same, which you voiced to Sehun.

He was taking a piece of garlic bread off a plate, carefully sliding the hot bread onto a tissue so he could hold it carefully. He blinked while he spoke, slow and steady, thinking very hard about it. “I think everyone’s like that. You break down walls to get the core of people, right?”

You nodded, thinking that was all he had to say. His mouth was sly though, pumping out words in ways you didn’t expect. His eyes landed on yours, somehow unfeeling in this but calculated just the same. “That doesn’t mean all people are good to discover. Some people can be bad people underneath it all because they’ve been left unattended their whole lives. I think it depends on the person.”

“And I am?” you asked slowly, drawing it out as you stretched another mozzarella stick apart. You didn’t dare look at him as he spoke, letting him feel as free as he could to say what he wanted to say.

“Well, I’m biased so I probably don’t have good judgement.” He seemed to want to end the conversation there, keeping it final. You knew exactly what he meant by biased, though your throat itched to ask for clarification. Pulling your lips in, you dropped the conversation and decided on something else to focus on, letting both of your minds float. He two of you seemed to float between conversations and spells of not speaking. He let you try some of his food reluctantly and you shared some of your own just the same. At one point, you two decided that talking was slightly overrated and focused on your foot, though he was quite keen on bothering you as he threw small pieces of balled up tissues at you or lightly stepped on your shoes to gain your attention.

It was less so that he wanted to speak to you but he just wanted to have your eyes on him. He wanted you to focus and only see him which, you couldn’t help but understand. When he was too engulfed in his food, you found yourself nudging him slightly under the table. It was a stupid back and forth you didn’t stop playing around with. Though, it was quite fun and laughs dripped from your mouths easily when you spoke- or even when he looked up at you with sauce on his face. You leaned slightly to get it off him, shirt dipping slightly down and you watched his eyes dip down before reaching your face again.

“There,” you murmured, heat flushing on your cheeks. He didn’t seem to notice it, only saying thank you and moving on with his life. You decided not to dwell on it as well, shaking your head slightly to get the look in his eyes out of your mind.

It was easy to do that when he took you to the lake shore. The sun was brighter than before, hitting your skin and causing you to get flushed for a real reason. Sehun too looked a little uncomfortable in the heat, complaining slightly as you walked to the water front. The streets declined quickly, rolling into the lake and you both were hurried to go there. There were large rocks that lined the shore that you could step on if you dared. They stretched far into the current, calm water swirling around the large stones where you could sit and chat. Wind came off the blue like foam, which lay near the sanded ground the stones were upon. It rushed through your hair and shifted your clothes, sending slight chills up your spine.

“Less hot now?” You perched your mouth, lips together in a small ‘o’ and Sehun nodded, though a little chuckle came bubbling up his throat.

“I’m probably going to be cold now.”

You chuckled along, wanting to say you’d keep him warm if he needed it but resisting. You couldn’t let yourself get this close and this vulnerable so quick. It was too dangerous and so, your distance was kept. Your mouth worked at other things to say. Your brain steered him further from your heart, trying to watch the little white sails near the horizon float by.

Sehun took you to the shore rocks, where you sat for a while in near silence. Your heels lay beside you and once again, your hands were poised right beside each other, just centimetres away. The sun was right in both of your eyes, even though you had safe guarded his hat for him the entire day. Being slightly considerate, you took it off for him and placed it in his lap. He didn’t make a move for it. Instantly, your eyes narrowed and you clicked your tongue.

“You know, if you keep squinting, your eyes will stay that way. You’ll permanently look like you’re scowling.”

All he did was shrug, leaning back on his hands so he was slightly reclined. His shirt, slightly untucked from eating and walking around, lay loose around his chest. Little wrinkles appeared like ripples in the water and the wind blew so they were constantly in motion. You couldn’t decide if he was showing off or if something had happened and that was why his attitude changed. Was it something you said?

Pressing your lips into each other, you turned back to the water and kept your mouth shut as well. There wasn’t much to say without him responding. Perhaps he was trying to tell you to enjoy the scenery, to come back and paint it here. You could see it now, the watercolours you might decide upon to keep with the feel of the nature. When you blinked, you could see exactly what it would look like on canvas. You wanted to ask Baekhyun to order some colours, to see if you could do this as soon as possible- before you forgot the scene. It would have been beautiful from the perspective in your head.

The shore would have been clean of everything but the rocks. They would still line the sand and stretch out into the water, with the port not far off to the left. Little white sails would dot the deep blue water and reflections of birds would lie on the water. Everything would have to be intricately painted in, from the imperfect ripples to the only two people there during the sunset. They would be dressed just as you and Sehun were, just small little specks on a large rock. Though, you’d be big enough to be seen holding hands. It would be enough to fill the least romantic of people with some sort of longing, you decided. Suddenly, you wished you’d brought your supplies once again.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked so quietly, you nearly missed it over the splashing of the water. The sun way starting to dip down, casting orange on buildings instead of bright yellow and his foul expression was beginning to melt away.

Lips slowly parting, you found a shrug fall off your shoulders. “Just about what this might look like if I painted it.”

“Better than the original, I bet,” he said, as if the compliment nothing but the truth. You didn’t know what to say to that so you just simply hummed, offering him another nod. This seemed to bother him though, and he straightened to be just beside you, leaning forward to try and find your eyes.

“Why do you do that?”

You blinked. “Do what?”

One hand was left to support his body while the other waved around lightly, mostly in your direction as he said, “that. You act all humble and shit about your work. Why?”

No real words seemed to come out of your mouth, your own brain not necessarily understanding why either. Finding yourself at a loss for words, all you could think to do was press your lips together but not before muttering that you didn’t know. This seemed to rather upset Sehun. You could tell from the way his lips curled downwards and mimicked the crease between his eyebrows. His eyes groped for yours and found them eventually, taking a deep breath in them before exhaling.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he prefaced, face still serious as ever but voice wavering just slightly, “and it’s going to sound super cliche but just bear with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, giving him a slight tilt of your chin. This seemed to comfort him, the space between you two getting smaller as he leaned forward to speak.

“My grandma always talked about this whole ‘stars in people’s eyes’ bull I never believed in. When I would cry because I was a dumb child, she wouldn’t tell me to stop because that’s how the stars grew. She would hug me and say that stars were made after a lot of pain so it’s okay to cry because it makes us brighter afterwards.”

Sehun picked at a string on his jeans as he spoke, eyebrows furling together as he figured out what to say next- how to say it. He was being rather careful, chewing on his cheek before deciding and nodding slightly.

Slowly, he murmured, “it’s just that it all seemed like lies to me. I used to believe it but the older I got, the more I thought it was fucking stupid- just something you tell a child; but then I meet you and, for the first time in my life, I see what she means. I see those stars she’s talking about and all I want to do is keep staring at them.

“Except, it sucks knowing that they were created because you were hurt. It sucks knowing that they don’t see what I see when they look at you or what you create. You’re nothing mediocre, y/n, even though you act like it.”

All you could do was blink at him, his words coming on like heavy silk. You didn’t know how to take what he was saying, though a golden warmth was growing in your stomach and was filling every crevice of your body. Some sort of prick in your eyes caused you to come forward and, when you were coated in gold, you pressed your lips against his. Your hand lay on his cheek, just enough to anchor you to him, while his slid to get behind you. He was leaning in, not trying to but you were leaning on his arm for support.

The way his lips moved against yours was like they were meant for this. They were like silk and felt better than you could’ve ever imagined, not wanting to be ripped away from him. The breathlessness wasn’t physical but it was from within, like he’d left you with a light head and a heart that started beating for someone else for once. You felt like the sun dipping over the shore, saturated and thick but beautiful. Even the way he looked at you was everything to your fragile heart, the one that wanted to have his body against yours once more just to feel that pressure between your ribs.

Your hand had slipped from his cheek, resting on his chest and grasping onto a piece of fabric to keep him closer. Unable to respond with anything sentimental, you gave him a smile and hoped he felt and saw what you were feeling. Through your eyes, which he said he loved, you hoped you were conveying it all, even if your tone was joking.

“You were right,” you hummed, showing your teeth, “that was cheesy.”

To this, he snorted and shook his head only to come closer and bump his nose against yours. It didn’t take much for you to close your eyes and comply, feeling his pull stronger than ever before. You even tugged him closer, hoping to feel his heartbeat atop of yours and arching your back up, hoping to reach him comfortably. He splayed his hand across the middle of your back, supporting you and feeling so safe. You wondered if this was when you began to fall, slowly but always so surely. Had he grabbed your hand before then and led you into the deep end or was this the start? Were you only just beginning to feel the butterflies that swirled up through your throat and floated all around?

Perhaps you didn’t have to fall for him just yet, you decided. Perhaps you hadn’t; but you were most definitely enamoured with him. You were in complete adoration of the way his chest moved against yours and of how careful he was being. You adored the way the sun mimicked his hair and the wind that tousled his look  hair only made him look freer. You wanted to keep his hands holding you the way they were, giving you a home you didn’t ask for but always felt you needed. Despite it all, you were captured by the way he made you feel. You felt as if someone had given you a potion and, for once, you could properly heal. All scars and all burnt skin was slowly repairing itself from the inside out and it wasn’t because he was the fix but it was because he made you want to feel better. He made you want for something outside of the bitterness that lived in your heart like a parasite and that made all the difference. He wasn’t something to live for, he was a reason to live better, and that perhaps made all the difference.

Sehun didn’t particularly ask, nor did he have to, but he took your hand in his on the way back into town. You had been driving in quiet comfort, your eyes tracing the dying light between trees and Sehun watching the road. He would slow and point sometimes, asking if you saw the deer that popped up behind a few trees. When he did it just before the light faded completely, you leaned slightly over the barrier so you could see it from his line of sight. Pretending not to feel the way he looked at you, you stayed focused but saw nothing, nothing but crimson light filtering between leaves and casting wonderful shadows on the carpeted green floor. You didn’t want to lean away but your body worked against you and you slid back into your seat. Sehun only cleared his throat and kept driving, taking the car out of its stillness.

Yet, there was his hand. It anchored you to this world, giving you some sort of stability. It made you think of all the things he’d done with a simple brush of a hand, and the butterflies that appeared in your stomach because of it. You couldn’t hide your little smile, trying to use your hand in a strategic way but he saw it. The way he ran his thumb down the palm of your hand was also just enough to cause your heart to jump, looking towards him.

“Why are you smiling, weirdo?” He tried to keep a straight face while he said it but a chuckle came through and you could see his cheeks fight against him. You only shrugged, looking at his profile for a moment before resorting to the window again. It was dark so the scenery wasn’t exciting but somehow, focusing on Sehun’s reflection in the glass was more wonderful. He moved like water through the image but his voice came clear and strong and vulnerable.

“Can I tell you something?”

You didn’t want to rip yourself from the image you saw but the way he asked, the fragility in his voice, it gave you enough to squeeze his hand. Your body moved, fully turning so you were nearly on your side, curling up to face him. A nod was all it took for him to speak.

With a little hesitation, taking his other hand off the wheel for a moment and letting his knees drive straight, he rubbed the back of his neck. Yet, slowly but surely, he said, “I haven’t been really happy recently. There was a lot of drama with my friends in the city and Grandma’s condition has been getting worse so it’s been hard. I wasn’t even aware of how much it was all affecting me until I came back. I was with Chanyeol last night and we went out and actually talked for a long while and he was saying he was proud of me over and over again and I didn’t really get it until he explained just that: I’d been really upset and I’m not anymore.

“He asked for my secret and I didn’t know what to say. Was it just being away? Was it my grandma?” Sehun stopped here, seemingly unsure if what he was going to say was appropriate. He furled his eyebrows, a shaky breath following and he murmured, “was it you? I kind of put it all into one and, as a collective, I think it’s made me happier. Essentially, you’ve made me happier and that’s something new for me; and I just want to say thank you for that. So, yeah.”

The best parts of you didn’t know how to process what he was saying, though somehow there was water forming in the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know what to say, though everything he held in his mouth was something you’d locked into your heart since you first met Sehun, nearly two and a half months ago now. You didn’t dare say any form of ‘you’re welcome’ and you weren’t going to. It went both ways and you so wanted him to know that but your tongue didn’t work. It didn’t know how to and never did when it needed so, but there was another morphing in your heart. It decided that, yes, you needed to have him in your life when he came. You’d never found yourself this full without eating, this giddy without reason.

He was driving, you two finally making it to the outskirts of your town and you whispered for him to stop. He didn’t seem to hear you until you raised your voice slightly, strongly saying, “Sehun, please stop the car.”

As the tires rolled to a stop, his gearshift changing into park, your breath escaped you. His eyes met yours in an instant and, just as quickly, you’d lifted your hands and placed them on his cheeks, lips attaching you. It was difficult to position yourself without it being uncomfortable, your knees digging into the leather and the gearshift, stabilizing yourself. You were breathless, you always would be when he touched your skin. He seemed to move right with you, as the tide pulled in and out of the shore, and his hands tugged you closer. You nearly gave in, letting him take you over to the driver’s side, letting your legs form around him. You so wanted to but he pulled away. He chose to look at you instead, your bodies both slightly perched over the barrier between you two and there was light in them.

His deep brown seemed watered out, filtered with gold and and overwhelming amount of adoration. You’d never found someone who liked you this much, who had made all previous attempts at getting someone who didn’t like you back stupid. It was so easy for you to fall together and it wasn’t some string of fate. It wasn’t destiny. It was simply a pull of his heart that showed you he wanted to try and another one of yours that tugged you two closer and closer. It wasn’t hard, coming together like this, and it was right. You hoped he saw how highly you thought of him in your eyes, how much you wished to adorn him with everything he wanted because it was what you saw. You wouldn’t say you had fallen but you had dived right in, taken a deep breath and plunged yourself far into the deep end.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he whispered really lightly, almost not wanting to break the silence of it all. Your lips curved into an o but no air went past them to form a sound. Still, he took it, nodding and giving you a little smile.

“There’s a mountain pass I think you’d like. We could spend some time camping out there, you could bring your supplies. We could be alone and I’d work on my writing. It’d be nice, you know?”

All you did was give him a nod, the hopefulness enough to convince you. It might have been ambitious but you could see it now. You could imagine the camp fires, the smiles on your lips, the painting you could get done. You wondered if you would ever be able to start the one of Sehun, where he had apricots in his hair. More than anything, that was what you wanted to do, but you said yes for any time spent with him was time well spent.

“Absolutely.”

His fingers, which had been fixing hair behind your ears now slowly found their way down your neck and lay on your shoulders. You didn’t know how much more you could say or what would take away from this situation but you wanted to. The words almost built in your throat and spilled out involuntarily but they came and you saw the way it made him smile. You saw the shift in his mood, and were glad you could do that for him, thinking about it all night long even as you brushed your hair before bed that night and washed your face. You replayed the way he smiled, lips curling into a position they were always meant to be. His eyes became small crescents. His heart became just the slightest bit more open, back straightening to accommodate it.

You watched it over and over again, closing your eyelids onto to see him. You had what you wanted and nothing could distract you from it. Not even the sirens from across the street, the paramedics that came for Grandma Oh’s body and locked her into a metal box, for you never to see again. Nothing could take away the way he looked for you that night, dreams replaying his smile as you whispered, so softly, that you were happy with him, happier than you’d ever been and you wished for it to never end.

To be quite honest, you loved being with Wooseok when you didn’t feel like you had your whole life to plan ahead of you. You were worried about schooling after your undergraduate degree- or perhaps working. To be quite honest, you didn’t know what you wanted, which seemed to mirror itself in every other aspect of your life. You said you wanted school but applying again caused you so much anxiety that you would stop yourself from doing it. You said you wanted to see your friends but whenever they offered one on one outings, you said no. You said you wanted Wooseok but seeing Hwitaek on the street a few days ago caused your heart to shake and you didn’t know why.

All he’d done was smile at you- he didn’t even touch you and goosebumps raised on your skin. It was simple niceties, ‘how are you’s and ‘I’m well’s but it felt like a weight dropped into your stomach. You didn’t even move when he introduced you to a friend of his named Changgu, who has a smile brighter than the universe. With a wave, they both departed and went on their own way, somewhere you’d never know. You remembered standing there thinking how much you wanted to know. Was that a terrible thing of you?

“You okay?” Wooseok asked from his spot on the couch. You had been paused in his kitchen, wearing nothing but his sweater and a pair of underwear, holding a bowl of grapes. Usually reclined, he’d sat up to look at you. The light from the kitchen illuminated his bare chest, moonlight streaming in from the opposite side and causing him to shine.

Cracking out of the ice you were frozen in, you nodded and took tiny steps to get towards him. He took the bowl from your hands and placed it on the coffee table, taking you in his arms quite gingerly afterwards. He seemed to be holding you like you were something fragile- something not to be toyed with. There were so many secrets left deep in his eyes, hidden for a moment as clouds passed through them. His large hand ran small circles into your back and held you close, wanting to feel your heartbeat. The usual flutter in your chest arose and, for the slightest moment, you were lost in him; and it terrified you.

“You’re not usually so quiet,” he murmured, fingers working through your hair. His long legs dripped off the couch but, between them, you had all the space in the world to love him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you brought your ear to his heart and listened to it- to the way it pumped and the air rushing in and out of his lungs. It felt bittersweet somehow, like this was a repetition of when he’d held you as you broke up with him. The scene reappearing in your head cause a prick in your eyes.

Some sort of sound came through your mouth but it wasn’t enough to be an answer. All Wooseok could do was hum and press you closer, chin on the top of your head and hand stroking your hair. He was trying so hard to be there for you, like he always had been. He was being your constant and letting you open up- he had changed. He wasn’t in need of you and you supposed that also scared you. He had his life figured out. He was finishing his degree and then going straight for his apprenticeship- he’d even been accepted and everything. He had a path, he knew what he wanted, and he was going for it. You were a part of. That and you knew it. You knew he saw a future in your eyes and the only question was, did you?

“Is it too early to say I love you?” His voice shook, maybe because he thought it was slightly embarrassing and was chuckling. You felt it as his chest bounced. You wanted to say yes, feeling a familiar pressure in your stomach but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You simply shook your head best as you could and hummed to follow it. 

Despite yourself, you leaned up slightly and placed your lips on his. Quite different than before, you’d started to slow down again. He touched you gingerly and somehow, it meant more. He moved against you like this was his place, like he didn’t have anything to explore but was going up his favourite hiking path. His hips moved up to meet yours and a familiar heat flushed through you. His hands held you in place. Your lips were still connected, breath shared between small breaks. 

This was your escape and you knew it.

The thing about Wooseok is that, somehow he always felt like an escape. He never felt permanent to you. He felt like something of a rag doll and it was so hard for you not to fall into that. When you let him into you, it felt as if you were only getting what you needed- or rather, deserved. There was nothing more to it but some sort of pleasure of the flesh. You’d based so much off the way he made you feel physically rather than the stomachs that fluttered in your stomach when he spoke to you. It begged the question if that was all there was to him, to the relationship. Were you just people of flesh or did he feel more? Would you ever feel more?

“Y/n?” he whispered, breathless and beneath you. Your heart was racing as you lay on top of him, trying to bring yourself down from your mind. His fingers held your hips, keeping you in place for a moment as his eyes searched for yours. They were far more barren than before, trying hard not to hold anything back.

With a small moan, you managed to give him the impression you were listening and he straightened on the couch. Legs still relatively hanging off the couch, trying to get comfortable, he shifted with you on top. Despite he better part of you, you hardly tried to help though moved when asked. Lying closer so you were nearly chest to chest, he began again.

“We’re not going to do what we did before, right?”

With a slight pause, you murmured, “what do you mean?”

Your fingers traced damp hair from his forehead and brushed it back, noticing the way he sighed through nearly parted lips. This didn’t seem to amuse him, you detected, feeling the chill in his voice as he muttered, “you know exactly what I mean.”

You looked down from his eyes and landed on the hair that threatened to grow above his lip, concentrating your breathing on the air you felt blowing out on your throat. A little bit of an edge in his movements, he shifted and huffed once more. Was he growing impatient of your silence or was it you he was restless with already?

“I don’t want us to feel the need to push and pull each other again. We need to be willing to talk about things and actually solve problems. Sex isn’t all there is to us and, even though it’s fucking fantastic, it doesn’t fix anything.” He placed a hand lightly on your chin to turn it- to make you face him and look at him while he was speaking. He was being so sincere, heat flushing between your bodies as you lay atop each other.

“You‘ve grown,” you whispered, somehow finding that the only thing to say. He didn’t show any indication that he’d heard it. He was waiting for a confirmation and you were unsure how to give it to him.

After a slight pause and a long blink, you murmured, “I’ll try but I can’t promise anything.”

“You don’t have to promise,” he assured you, so low. His arms tightened the slightest bit and, without being constricting, you somehow felt unable to breathe. “I just want you to try.”

Breaking whatever fragile pact this was, you sealed the envelope with a kiss. His hips moved the slightest bit up, pressing into you. Parting lips, a thick breath passed through your teeth and he chuckled.

“Good to know I still have this kind of power over you.”

Act 3, Scene 2: Holding On To the End of This Night

Wooseok’s lips fell upon yours in a feverous rush, hands ripping at your coat and slipping it down your shoulders. You didn’t know when you’d texted him but your heart worked against you and you begged to see him. It had been a little while since you and Wooseok had seen each other due to work or your parents and, despite being annoyed at him, your body ached for him. He was all too eager to agree and the tapping of your feet on the bus was enough to indicate the buzzing in your blood.

Seeing him was like breathing fresh air. The sickness that spread through your veins from passing days and pretending he didn’t exist anymore washed away. He ran his fingers through your hair and took back your body and you were purified. His body was holy water and, in sinning, you were cleansed.

He slipped his hands, large and warm, under your shirt. He moved the hem of it further up as he traced deep paths into your skin. Quickly throwing it over your head, the two of you stumbling down the familiar hallway to any room you could find, you felt the beating of your heart quicken. It banged against your chest, causing rhythmic clicks that let you give into him when he slipped his tongue past your lips and pressed himself closer into you. His long legs his the edge of his couch and the two of you lurched forwards, not caring about anything but him.

Somehow, you ended up straddling him, connected everywhere but the lips. He had tugged your hair to arch your neck up, lines of sloppy kissed trailing up and down the burning skin there. You didn’t open your eyes, not wanting what felt like a dream to end. At the precipice of a whirlpool, you found yourself standing there and wanting to fall in. You felt him wrap around you like he had before, silken strands slowly forming and winding you in. He tried to repair what you’d broken, slowly weaving the ends of his heart to yours with care while he touched all the places you knew he missed- places that missed him. That night, you let yourself believe you could come back, lying beside him and staring into his eyes like you’d never seen them before. 

“I missed you,” he whispered silently, lips quivering and raw. His chest still rose and fell in beat with yours, skin stretching over his bones and you noticed how thin he had gotten recently. 

Your fingers went from his shoulder to his lips, running over them as you hummed quietly in agreeance. There was no need to be so soft but speaking normally seemed sacreligious and so, you both followed this unspoken rule. 

He touched his nose against yours, bringing your faces closer and pressing his forehead to yours. Your bodies lay side by side, facing each other with legs entangled in an uncomfortably comfortable way. He didn’t say much more but paused and breathed, “please don’t leave tonight. Stay over. I know you have work and school, I know you have stuff to do but skip it for tomorrow. Please, I need you.”

His eyes were closed, like he didn’t want to see you lie to him and yet, knew you would nonetheless. You simply placed your hand on his jaw and kissed him as gingerly as you could. Your voice was barely above a whisper but that was enough for Wooseok, as you always were enough for Wooseok.

“I won’t.”

This comforted him enough to sleep, bare body against yours and holding you like you were life’s greatest present. You’d never felt your heart settle this way, often feeling uneasy and terrible; but this was so massively different. Outside of your time in this tall apartment, you were constantly at war- without safety, without a home. Then, suddenly, you could freely breathe. You could spread the wings people made you tuck away. Wooseok massaged away the face you put on for other people amd you loved him for it, more than he knew.

Yet, you were a liar, and a good one at that. You had lied to him so many times before and somehow, there was no stopping you. Even that night as you placed a kiss on his forehead and slipped from his loosening grip.

“Where?” he somehow managed, through the dark room and across the crumpled silk of his blue sheets. He was grumbling and mostly asleep, so easily persuaded one way or the other. You lightly shushed him, coming closer to press another kiss on his pouted lips. His eyes didn’t open much but just enough to see the dim light from the open window reflect on them. He was so trusting and so fragile that it cracked away at your heart to see his done to him- to see what you did to him.

“Just thirsty,” you said so hushed and delicate. “I’ll be right back.”

He blinked, moving his lips against yours before you pulled away and nodding. He shifted in his spot, grasping at the blanket and turning the smallest big away from you. “Okay.”

For a moment, you sat there and stared at him. His back, wide and thin, rose and fell so carefully. The sheet dipped down and showed the little veins around his shoulder blade, which was prominent and sticking out with the way he was positioned. His skin drowned in moonlight and the little scars on it were illuminated. Nothing ruled over his hair and it splayed itself across the pillow and his forehead so perfectly that he looked painted. He looked relaxed, no tension in the body you could see peeking out from under the sheet. The blanket was shoved on the floor, like it always did because he absolutely hated being hot while he was sleeping. He would wake up and complain if the blanket was on him. 

A small smile formed on your lips as you remembered the way he complained and shoved the blanket at you. You remembered throwing it over his head again and listening to him complain as he shot up in bed and seized you. His hands tickled your sides and you were pinned down but laughing harder than you ever remembered laughing. You wondered when you stopped smiling like that, from ear to ear and with your whole body but it didn’t seem to click in your mind then that Wooseok was the cause of it all, from every hop in your step to the way you spoke.

Though, maybe you knew it subconsciously and that was why you hesitated to leave once you dressed. The breath that escaped his slightly parted lips, the unheard beating of his heart, the way he felt like home: they all made you hesitate. You briefly considered undressing and getting back inside with him, your past flickering in your brain like a lit candle. The memories that lay there threatened to start a war with your body and mind and it overwhelmed you to the point of understanding. You stared at this sleeping man who woke up the person you’d repressed all your life and your heart curled. Pretending you loved him was still a mistake but still pretending was the only thing you found worthwhile.

Act 3, Scene 3: Rock Bottom

“Okay, then what’s your view on it?” The classmate across from you crossed their legs as they leaned back on the sofa’s armrest. Wooseok, who had taken to seeing you during your breaks now was also leaning back, chin tilted slightly up as if he were preparing for an argument. His arm was resting comfortably stiff behind you, sheltering you in a way that made his body loom over the small couch. You were unfortunately pinned between the two, who were deep in an ‘intellectual argument’ which affected neither of them as you saw it. 

Taking it slowly, Wooseok pressed his lips together carefully before fixing your classmate with a determination that was new. Maybe he’d gained it when he was with Vernon and his crew, the two of them very close still. Woo would tell you often about how little Vernon approved of you, which puzzled you often. What did he mean to say about it? What was the point? These thoughts hopped through your head every so often, even then as you spaced out of the conversation and felt Wooseok’s words slip through one ear and fall out of the other.

“Waxing and not waxing isn’t a necessity but some people view it as such because of social standards and whatever, you’re right, but that doesn’t mean people have to stop just because of that. I’m just saying that if you’re…”

He started to wave his hand around while he spoke and you knew it was about to go somewhere deeper. Excusing yourself politely, saying you needed to use the bathroom, the two were left to their own devices. By god, did he like his ‘intelligent’ talks but you couldn’t stand it. The more he spoke, the more you realized how little he knew. It was so interesting being with someone who was well-read, who had his words and thoughts carefully calculated and backed with real information. This here was all just research on the internet or whatever Wooseok heard from other people, which he would metabolize and create his own thoughts from. Quite frankly, you hadn’t noticed it before but recently, it had given you a headache. 

Despite this, the way he touched you was fire lighting gasoline and that was hard to miss. Maybe you just needed something to come back to, some common ground that would connect you mentally again, though you couldn’t think much about the educated conversations you ever had with him before. Both of you liked stimulation but perhaps in the wrong way.

You traced lines on the wall, hand just slightly extended as you rounded a corner and focused yourself in on this. Was that why you hadn’t gone past very much, and why you ended so quickly? Was this the reason why you broke so quickly but craved each other so often- was it nothing but physicality that drew you in? You had to shake you head, not understanding why but knowing that being around him was revitalizing. 

There was a youthfulness in your skin when you spoke or whispered to each other. There was a glow of the diamonds between your thighs when you came out of a night together. Your smile stretched further and your stomach hurt when you laugh. It was good and you knew that. Though, one thing that caught you gave you a malevolent stirring in your abdomen. Was it maybe that you loved what he gave you and not him? 

Narrowing your eyes, having paused in the hallway, you tried to control your breathing. This was something scary to answer and your hands shook, wondering if maybe- just maybe- you were moving back into the same pattern you ripped yourself from. Shaking your shoulders a bit, as if it would remove the cobwebs from them, you straightened and made a beeline for the cafeteria. Feeling a little lightheaded, you decided on some food and went the long way around to avoid Woo for just a moment more so you could clear your mind.

“Y/n!” 

The call made you turn around in your spot, slow and surprised. It was familiar, as was the body that crashed into yours and wrapped its bony arms around you. Jisoo squished, holding you tightly before pulling away. Her lips were a bright red, though slightly smudged, and her eyes shone. She looked somewhere between happy and sad but her smile was pulled tight across her cheeks. Her hands left themselves on your hips and her eyebrows quirked up, fixing you with a look.

“You alright? You look a little pale.” This took her smile down a notch, just low enough for you to notice her freshly blonde hair falling out of its messily placed clip. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to sound a little strong but your hand came up and pressed itself to the budding thuds at the base of your head, “just a little faint, I guess.”

Her frown came into place immediately and she pushed forward, turning you in your spot to go to the cafeteria. Sheltering you with her arm, she murmured lightly, “then I guess we’ve got to get some food in you. Water too, huh? Have you been drinking any? I know you don’t do that often.”

She continued her chatter, pouting and scolding and attempting to comfort you nonetheless. Her hand ran circles softly into your shoulder blade as she pulled you closer. You felt really ridiculous, like a child being cooed at by their mother; except you didn’t do anything to stop her and continued being sour and silent. The smell of food hit your nose quickly and something inside you growled, insatiably hungry. You were surprised you hadn’t felt it before but you had this urge to submerge yourself in something good to eat- something that would tear your mind from its thoughts.

Jisoo looked over a glass wall and pointed at a large package of chicken fingers with fries. “Do you want that? We can share?”

If there was one thing you remembered from that day, it was the brightness of her eyes. She looked so genuinely alive in a way couldn’t place. There was something so different that set her just a step above what she used to be before. She was full when she used to be empty. The deepness of her brown eyes wasn’t sad anymore. She’d been fixed, like in a snap, she had everything figured out. It bled into everything she did, smiling so far up that it reached her ears and laughing from deep within her. You could hear her laugh like it was replaying in your head over and over again. It made you happy to see her this way, making a point to ask her why when you sat down. Yet, no matter how happy you could be for her, envy nipped at your skin and it was hard to avoid the tone in your voice.

“So,” you drew out, picking up a fry and bringing it to your lips. Your eyes were downcast but quickly flitted up to meet hers, slightly scrutinizing, “what’s going on? Why are you so giddy?”

Blush crept on her cheeks, a little laugh escaping her. She went for a piece of chicken, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

All you had to do was click your tongue for her mouth to start working. She was so easy- so eager to tell whatever was at the base of her throat. She grinned further, waving around the small chicken bit and starting, “I know I shouldn’t be as excited as I am but I think I’ve figured it out. Like I think I’ll genuinely be able to start being happy now, you know?”

You blinked, hating how she usually started conversations with the end of one. Nodding, you hummed, “okay,” and waited while she chewed. It only took a second but it felt like ages passed when she was silent. And then she threw herself straight into it.

“Well, okay. Do you remember when I said I met that guy a few years back who wasn’t totally weird about me being bi and he didn’t try to set up his dream threesome or whatever?” She waited for you to nod, pausing to breathe for the last time she would in a while. 

“Right, so we’ve been meeting up every so often because we wanted to see each other but it wasn’t like dates or anything. He was just being nice to me, and me to him. But then, a few days ago he called me and asked if we could meet up so we did and he was like- he was so nice. He bought me dinner and a flower and he held my hand it was nothing like I expected him to be because he doesn’t have the best reputation, I guess.”

By then, you could see where this was going and every part of you wanted her to stop. You didn’t want her to tell you who it was because you knew, but you begged for it not to be him. It just couldn’t be, but hearing it had to happen. You found yourself thinking over and over for his name not to appear. Not now.

“The thing is, I didn’t take it at face value because I’m not an idiot. So we talked and discussed why now, what did he see in me now, was he ready, all that good stuff because we all know I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a while. Get this: he said he realized that I was everything he ever wanted to be with and he’s an idiot for not seeing it until now. So, I think we’re dating now, y/n. Isn’t that exciting?”

Her smile was begging to reach your lips, so sheepish and childish- eyes so bright. You pushed one, just hoping you would be wrong as you reached your hand across the table. Your fingers interlocked and you nodded.

“It’s amazing, Soo, I’m beyond happy for you,” you crooned, trying to find your way around the conversation carefully, “so, who is it? Do I get to meet him soon?”

Her eyes skirted around your face, slightly retracting into herself as she straightened her back and shrugged. “I- I don’t know. I don’t particularly think you like him.”

“O-oh. So, I know him?” Your voice shook audibly and it hurt slightly listening to it. Jisoo shrugged, not giving you a straight answer as she did so. Taking the small chance, loosening your fingers, your opened your mouth. You were going to say it. You were going to let her know that you knew the secret she didn’t want you to. Honestly, you were surprised you kept it in for so long and maybe this wasn’t the best time. But you had to know. You didn’t want her to make a mistake like you were making- you meant, made. Right?

Words were stolen from your mouth in a whisper, Wooseok’s body plopping down just beside you. He held a smile and your bag and books, saying, “so this is what you abandoned me for.”

His eyes turned to Jisoo, who had instantly put her smile back on, pushing the box of food towards the middle of the four person table for him to reach it comfortably. 

“Hey, Woo. How’s it been?”

“All the same,” he huffed lightly, a shrug rolling off his shoulders. His arm around your waist slowly demobilized you, your mouth now shut. When did that happen? 

Thuds formed louder and louder, the pounding of your brain seeming to shake your eyes out of their places every so often. Wooseok noticed it, giving you a worried look from the side of his eye before carrying the conversation with, “so, what are we talking about?”

It sure took you a moment, but you saw the opportunity. Wooseok would fall for it- he’d say it outloud for you. You could get all the confirmation you needed without being the bad guy. It filled your heart just the slightest bit and you quickly jumped in, eagerness clear in your voice.

“Uh, Jisoo’s actually got a new boyfriend that she was telling me about.”

Almost immediately, her face warmed and smile softened. She was happy and it hurt your heart that you were this cautious of it. Yet, you had to know and Wooseok seemed to take the bait. 

“Oh, really? That’s great, who is it?”

She shrugged, being coy and humming, “can’t tell you. It’s a big secret.”

“What if he guesses it? You said that guy knew me but Wooseok doesn’t know anyone so it’d be kind of fun, wouldn’t it?” You had your lips perched, ready for a further persuasion. Her eyebrows moved up slowly before furling as if she was trying to remember something. Then, slowly, she spoke.

“Sure,” Jisoo said, a little excited. You watched her shoulders bunch up as she expected to say no. Her face fell very quickly, Wooseok being quick on his feet.

“Vernon.”

Her jaw slipped down before snapping shut and then unhinging again. You sighed, knowing it and shaking your head. The way she gaped at you two was heartbreaking in the slightest because she had taken their secret to heart and clearly, he hadn’t.

“Is it?” you asked at the same time she whispered harshly, leaning across the table, “how did you know?”

Wooseok, very clearly not knowing what he’d done wrong, simply looked between you two. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, retracting a bit. With a hand rubbing the back of his neck, he murmured, “Vern and I are friends and he told me. I just assumed you knew that.”

“Did you know too?” Her eyes seemed to shake, like they were drawn in. She really wanted you to say no but the portion of you that felt bad for using Wooseok to get the answer from her gave in. You nodded slowly.

“I didn’t think anything of it though,” you lied, trying to comfort her. The frown on her lips was evident, whatever light in her skin slowly dripping out from her neon nails. You tried to place your hand on top of hers but she simply pulled away, resting them in her lap.

“Huh,” she muttered lightly, somewhat bitter, “I probably looked so stupid just before then, talking about someone you hate so happily.”

“Jisoo, I don’t hate him,” you said softly, really wanting to feel her hand in yours. Wooseok’s mouth opened then, much to your dismay. Sometimes, it was difficult dealing with that fact that he wasn’t someone you could fully control.

“You don’t like him though,” he reasoned. 

Closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath, you turned slowly to him and fixed him with a look. It was mad and he read it well, biting down on his lip and apologizing to Jisoo. With a scoff, you turned back and tried. You tried really hard for Soo to just listen to you- to reason- but she wouldn’t. She’d made up her mind and it turned a stone in your friendship.

“Look, you don’t have to like him, but you also can’t lie to me. I don’t care how you feel about him because if I’m happy, you should be happy for me.”

Your shoulders fell, eyes coming together in an attempt to look solemn. “Soo, I am happy for you, truly I am but-”

“I don’t care about your ‘but’s, y/n,” she interrupted, raising her voice slightly as she got up. Removing her bag from the back of the chair, she spat, “you’re either happy for me or you’re not and since you’re the latter case, I think I’ll take my leave.”

“Soo,” you attempted but she wasn’t having it. She didn’t care, so to speak, but you felt the ice in her voice and the chill that went down your back was noticeable. 

Wooseok simply exhaled lightly, pushing his lips out to form a circle. With a slightly awkward laugh, he said, “well, that was awkward, wasn’t it?”

You knew he was hoping for a smile from you but those were hard to give- especially now. Working at three million miles an hour, your brain worked at solving your Jisoo crisis and, in fact, didn’t quite care for Wooseok at all. You couldn’t, not when it felt like somehow, all problems stemmed from him.

But then again, wasn’t it you?

Act 3, Scene 4: Two Fools on The Street

Wooseok has his hands in your hair, rubbing circles into your head. The soap he was massaging in smelled like lavender and vanilla and it filled your nose and every sense. Whatever bubbles you’d started with in the bath had melted into the water and you were left partially bare, not that it particularly mattered to either of you. Wooseok sat behind you, humming to the song that was bleeding through the portable speaker in the bathroom, the shifting of water coming every so often. You felt splashes on your back and the dripping of the shampoo, as well as his breath on your neck. It was shallow, like he didn’t want to make you squirm because he knew it made you ticklish. Something about this was perfection and you wanted to sit there, eyes closed, forever. Tonight was the last night you’d ever get that perfection again and you wanted that finality to be true this time.

You promised yourself you weren’t going to run back to him, not when things were easy, not when things were hard. You didn’t want to be a slave to his body but you sold your soul to him ages ago, handing it over to him wrapped with a bow the first time you met. Your heart broke with every meeting and shattered whenever you left him. He was something to run away from but also something to run to when everything was getting to be too much and you supposed that was the problem. Everything about him, from his grin to his slender arms, was too intoxicating to escape.

“How am I supposed to wash this out of your hair?” His voice came in a deep chuckle followed by a dripping of water on your head using the body sponge behind him. You laughed, smacking away his arms and you giggled a ‘no!’.

“So how?”

You simply turned in your spot to face him and dipped your head to water level. He watched you move, sitting the furthest bit back so his chest looked wider than the sea. He boarded up the bathtub end and you watched as his chest rose and fell shakily. Just beneath the water, the muscles in his lower stomach tensed. He knew where you were going, not meaning to wash the soap out of your hair at all as you came closer and closer to him. The water rose over your chin and cheeks, abandoning your back as it did so. 

You said a humble, “like this,” and your head dipped fully under the water.

You were both dressing in the dark afterwards, the only light you’d ever need coming from the city life beneath and the moon above. He placed his lips against your shoulder before you covered it with a sweater and slipped on a ripped pair of jeans. The two of you most likely looked like messes, him wearing a pair of track pants and a long sleeved, purple shirt with a tee tucked in underneath. You made a face at the colour of his shirt but he didn’t seem to care, ushering you towards the door so you could go out for the late dinner.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” he stressed, hands coming into yours as he moved forward once you’d put your shoes on. Stepping back over the threshold and into the hallway, he released you. A devilish grin appeared on his face as he looked at you, out in the hallway of his apartment floor and you could tell exactly what he was going to do.

“Psych!” He saluted you with two fingers while his other hand moved to shut the door and he nearly would have if it hadn’t been for the foot you stuck out.

“Wooseok,” you whined, shaking your head as you drew out his name. He huffed, not at all angry with a ridiculous grin on his face as he swung the door open again.

“Well, fine,” he sighed, shrugging as he grabbed his keys and followed you out, “guess I’ll be miserable tonight.”

You hummed, used to his teasing as you nodded your head. Sticking your hands into your front pocket, you kicked at his shoes and murmured, “if you want to trick me, don’t put on your sneakers. It’ll be more convincing. Also, don’t say psyche, who says psych anymore?”

He checked if the door was locked, pressing his weight on the handle as he drew out a tall, ‘oh’. When he finished, satisfied with the safety of his room, he strung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in. You snaked your arm around his waist, walking to the elevator in a perfect sync. He didn’t say much, tired and trying to think of where this conversation could go. As you entered the elevator, you could hear the gears grinding, trying to avoid a fight.

Looking up at him as he squeezed you closer to him, you watched as he said, “duly noted. I’ll remember for next time.”

“You think there’ll be a next time?” You took your time saying this as well, waiting until you were outside his building and on the way to the familiar, late night ramen place you both loved with all your hearts. 

He met your eyes here, hand coming to rub at your cheek. You walked so well together despite the height difference, none of it mattering as you avoided the crowded streets and the burning lights. Where you walked, the streetlights were dim and orange and few and far between and it reminded you of simpler times. The streets were dingy, garbage lingering around the sewers and where the sidewalk met the road. The stop lights weren’t in the best condition. Nothing really was, sweat coming from the bricks and tin shops that lined the road but it wasn’t dangerous. The only thing dangerous was what you had said and the look in his eye.

Leaning into his touch, you studied the way his mouth curved as he deadpanned, “have you met us? Of course there will be.”

You didn’t say anything to this, watching his innocent smile and wondering how he could hold onto that. He seemed so confident and so at ease, never once thinking that you spent time with him because you were selfish. You didn’t want to feel alone and you would use him, anyone could see that. You hated yourself for it but wrapping yourself in the world he imagined felt so good. Though, when it became a little too much, a little too real, a little too suffocating, you left. You always left and still, he always took you back. Maybe it was because he let you repeat this cycle that you kept at it. Your heart hurt at the fact but you shook your head of it, returning your mind to him and locking eyes with him.

He hovered above your lips, having to bend to reach you and you lifted on your toes to meet him halfway. You were nearly paused on a dark street, locked in each other’s gaze before you leaned that small way up and kissed him. You could see yourself in those eyes that held no secrets from you and it made you sad. Looking into a soul that was falling for you hurt more when you didn’t know if you felt the same way.

“I’m happy,” he whispered and the tightening of your heart ensured, “and I hope you’re happy too.”

“Wooseok,” you murmured, fixed on the floor now. His arm slipped so his hand came into yours, squeezing your fingers because of your tone. You didn’t want to say what you were going to but you knew it had to be. For the sake of breaking the cycle. For the sake of everything. If you truly did harbour feelings for him, it needed to be said.

“We’re not dating, Wooseok.”

“Then what are we doing?” His voice snapped at yours, harsh but quiet still. You pressed your lips together, continuing your thought. It was going to hurt and you felt it shake your body, everything fighting for you to shut up. You didn’t want to ruin it but you had to.

“You shouldn’t be concerned with my happiness. We meet, we fuck, and we part ways. Sure, we’ll go eat ramen together but that isn’t- this isn't”

“Then what is it?” he pressed, eyebrows furrowing deeply and showing you a horrid line between them. Your hands slipped out of his, like you were tugging yourself free, as if touching him made you less independent.

“Not a relationship,” you said, final and solid, “that much even I can see.”

His face turned to the side and his jaw clenched, muscle showing as you spoke. You watched as your words caused him to harden, huffing an exhale and rolling his eyes. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“What?” You snipped, mimicking his face. He rolled his head around to face you, taunting you with the way he looked down at you and he scoffed.

“What, do you need me to say it louder? You’re fucking ridiculous, y/n. You come into my life, fuck me up, and then say what we have isn’t real? Come on.” He was mad, as he had been for a long time. You could feel it building in his bones when you first decided to go out with each other and it was seeping through. Letting one fuse blow meant all of his fuses had to go and, while it scared you, you knew it had to happen. For this to end, it had to end right, even if it meant no closure for you.

You chose your words carefully, looking for what would set him off. You begged for him to yell at you, to be mad, and you would do anything to get it. “I never said it wasn’t real, Woo, just that it isn’t a relationship.”

“Then why am I here?” he begged of you, raising his voice the slightest bit. He wore a black cap, ring swinging as he moved his arms outwards. “If you don’t want to be with me then why am I here?”

“Because I-”

“No, fuck whatever bullshit response is about to come out of your mouth right now,” he interrupted, cheeks gaining a flush you hadn’t seen in a while. The finger he pointed at you closed your vocal chords, even when he said to tell him the truth. You didn’t know what to say, not sure why you were there yourself. Not sure of how you felt or why you felt it. Not sure of anything.

“Woo,” you managed, choking his name out and pleading with him. Get angrier, you wanted to say. Hate me, you wanted to say. I hate me. If this was going to be the last time you saw him, you were going to make it count. 

“Wooseok, I don’t know why we’re here. We’re not okay together. I use you and you want to control me. We’re both children, just stupid kids who haven’t grown up. We never stopped sending cryptic messages to each other from across the classroom and we never will.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” he fought, voice tightening but still trying so hard to be tough. The tears that attempted to form in your eyes were pushed down with the words you summoned from the darkest parts of your being.

“You’ve choked out every bit of happiness in me and vice versa. We’ve been nothing but bad for each other and you hated me for it. That’s why we broke up, isn’t it?” 

“Don’t say that,” he said so lowly, just where he needed to be. Just one more push.

“Isn’t it? We broke up because we were both hurting, both in a place we didn’t want to be.”

He snorted. “No, we broke up because you were scared, y/n. You needed a break, saying you felt trapped or some shit. Don’t project whatever bullshit you felt on me because I was happy with you. I’ve never been happier. I think of what we did together and I smile. I don’t feel like that about anyone else- I’ve never felt like that about anyone else. So don’t you dare try to tell me how I feel about you or us because it wasn’t me that ended this.”

“Are you reall-”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am blaming it on you.” Wooseok’s eyes burned and it hurt to look at them, watching him feel so hurt and finally letting it out. You watched as everything you’ve done, every scar you cut into him, ripped open and let itself free. “I let you come back every time you needed to run away. I do that for you because you ruin everything. You ruined it from the start and you’re ruining it now and it makes me sick.”

He didn’t dare stop himself, though he lifted his sleeves off his forearms and pushed them upwards. “Do you know what happened that night you left me when I asked you not to? Do you?”

You blinked, distinctly remembering wanting to ask him but- but did you never do it. The sudden question threw you off, silencing you as you shook your head. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest, scoffing and coming closer to you. He had lowered his head so you where somewhat eye to eye. His words were thick.

“Of course you don’t. You never fucking asked. You just up and left and I never brought it up. I never fucking talked about the fact that my grandfather died- the one that fucking grew me. I never got to all about it with you because after that, we hardly saw each other too. We hardly talked unless it was about you. We didn’t do shit for me and I just- I’ve let it slide! I didn’t bring it up because you’re hurting but this i bullshit! You’re not the only one hurting!”

His voice grew louder and louder until he had distanced himself so he wasn’t screaming in your face. You heard the way his voice ricocheted off silver walls that dripped with guilt. Dirt seeped down them and into your skin and you realized just how truly disgusting you had been to him. How could you long for something so much and then ignore them just the same way? What was wrong with you?

You didn’t say anything but the tears in your eyes fell, slowly but all at once. There was nothing more than his chest heaving, mad that you hadn’t loved him, mad that you were crying. Did he perhaps not understand that you were crying for him? For all the pain he felt that he wasn’t allowed to feel? 

“I’m sorry,” you spilled, bending over just slightly and feeling the breath leave your body. Your heart rate was picking up and heat fell across your face. It was too much.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it anymore, y/n.”

The words he spewed were poison and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from crying louder. You were trying to be tame, fighting on a street and not wanting to yell back. He was right and you nines it but your nails were digging into your palms and your fists were by your side so you didn’t touch him. You were far from him, the space providing a buffer zone for your heads and for everything you were saying. You might have looked ridiculous but you needed this and you were going to let it out nonetheless, your emotions getting the best of you. You couldn’t tell if it was sadness or anger but either one fit. 

“Then why am I here if I ruin everything? If I make you so miserable?” 

Wooseok’s mouth was quick in this, unbelieving and raised louder than before. “Because I love you, you stupid- fuck! Of course I love you and I need you an-”

“I didn’t ask you to fall in love with me,” you retorted, trying to be cold as you held back the tears that were falling anyways. You raised your hand to wipe them away, ashamed of yourself for being so weak and letting your emotions show. 

“Are you serious?” He was shocked, genuinely looking at you like he couldn’t believe what just came out of your mouth. “No one asks for people to fall in love with them. It just happens and usually with people you don’t want it to happen with or you don’t expect.”

You didn’t have anything to say to that, looking away from him and down to the ground. He took a pace closer to you then away and his hand covered his mouth. He pulled at the skin there as you turned your head from him, trying to control your breathing- trying to get yourself under control. You started this but why did it seem to hurt you so much?

“Sometimes, I hate you,” he said so plainly, voice back to normal, if not quieter than before. This filled the air for a moment and he came closer to you. He also wasn’t looking at you. You were just two fools on a street, pretending to listen to each other talk without hearing what the other was saying. 

“I hate you so much but then you…” he trailed off, daring to raise his eyes to see yours. You wanted to meet them, to let him see what you were feeling but your pride held you back. All he could see was the way you tightened the muscles in your face and he swallowed, sighing, “whatever. Do you even care?”

“Wooseok,” you attempted, raising your eyes here. The indignation in his voice was enough to set you off but you’d missed your chance. The door was closing on you and you knew it all too well. 

“I’m going home. I’m tired.” He started his steps away from you, hands in his pockets and sleeves bunching up against the fabric. His hat was leaned further down, walking backwards for a beat. It was only when you said his name again that he fully turned away from you.

“Call me when you want to figure this shit out. Until then, don’t call me at all.” He paused, only a heartbeat away and his voice became a whisper. It was the only thing you felt at that moment, your soul raptured by his silhouette. He looked so small, shoulders slumped and back arced so he curled inwards. His chin was tilted down, no longer proud. He was defeated and you really realized what you did to him then. It broke your spirit and his final words were the nail in the coffin.

“Please. I can’t take it anymore.”

You let him walk away from you, not repeating his name. He was small enough and you didn’t need to make him any less than he already felt he was. You let him go because you had to and it left a bitter taste in your mouth that this was how you had to end everything. You couldn’t keep doing this to him and you knew it. In fact, you didn’t want to.

You had once enjoyed seeing him wrap around your finger and seeing what you could do with him. You were a victim of peoples manipulation once upon a time and a part of you wanted to give someone a taste of the medicine that was poured down your throat.It was terrible of you to say but you wanted to feel empowered and this sweet man walked into your trap. You supposed you were so consumed in this idea that you convinced yourself you weren’t a bad person- that you weren’t doing this because you wanted to get back at someone who had hurt you so long ago.

Then, when you realized it after that stupid, stupid fight, you tried to change. You tried to let go of those habits and it worked. You were being less manipulative but you were with him and he made everything better and suddenly, you were weak. Then, you tried to convince yourself you weren’t in love and that you were just with him because he was comfortable. Yet, you did fall in love with him. You began to miss hearing him say your name or long for the touch of his skin. You got excited coming home to him and you’d buy things that reminded you of him. The reflection of you in his eyes was happy and genuinely so; and it scared you to your core.

He was right. You broke up because you were terrified of something real. Using someone was so much easier. Being unattached was so much easier. Feelings only complicated a perfect thing and somehow made it more perfect and yet, it was worse. The fear gripped you in ways that made your heart burst whenever he kissed you and melt whenever he left. It was all-consuming and you never knew what to do so you did the worst things, like you always did. It was a self-protective, self-destructive method and it always worked.

You regretted what you did. You tore him from you and ripped yourself from the first proper home either of you had ever had. It shattered him and you were sorry for it. When you didn’t speak for that long stroke of time, you found yourself wondering how he was feeling. Was he happy? Was he sleeping? Did he think of you every second of everyday or was it only you? Then, he would call you, begging to know what he did wrong and how you could fix it together and you would just rip deeper wounds into him because you didn’t know what else to do. What could you do when you couldn’t even face the way you were feeling?

Wooseok broke the no-contact treaty by calling you, by reminding you of him so prevalently. He called once more when you first broke up, asking to meet up, and you said yes. The look on his face was enough to make you call yourself a sinner and want to repent. Being in his arms made you cry hard into his shoulder, whispering apologies that would never amount to anything you ever felt. It couldn’t be fixed. You ruined him, he was right, and he never blamed you for it. You’ve wanted to be different for him ever since, but you couldn’t.

You never called him your boyfriend. You wouldn’t say you loved him. He crooned that you could take your time and you did. You took all the time you could to face yourself, postponing it further and further. Too scared and cowardly to do anything for him, you never crossed the bridge you needed to for him. You would pass out of his life like this: afraid and quivering and unable to admit to any of the feelings you knew you had. He knew you had. 

Perhaps that was why you started to love him. He saw through all the ways you used him and knew why. He understood everything you were doing and played his part well. He never faltered and he never left and he was always understanding. You didn’t ask how he knew, what he’d done to someone else that he could see right through the lies you put up and find you. You called him a child but you were so wrong. He had matured so much from the person he once was. He grew up and you didn’t. You were so stuck in that vengeful past still, even when you wanted to change. You wouldn’t grow unless you truly wanted to and, on that dingy street, on that shitty night, you wanted to.

The two of you were never meant to coexist as the people you were. As the selfish bitch you were, you could never love this whole, obedient man as he was- the way he deserved to be loved. Through his simplicity, he could never love the terrible witch you were.

So, you let him go, and you couldn’t feel sorry enough about the mistakes you made but you also couldn’t be more hopeful to see him again. You could feel his hand on your cheek where it had been moments ago, pressed lovingly. You could see his eyes and you knew what he was doing. He was leaving a trace, so he could mark his way back.

“What’s this one?” Sehun asked, waiting in your room while you put a bandaid on your cheek using the mirror in your bathroom. He held it up behind you so you could see from the mirror and you blinked, a sort of disappointment reaching your face. It was an older painting and it held no talent but you kept it to remind you of how you’d grown.

“It’s of the lake,” you informed, paying close attention to yourself in the mirror as you spoke, “I painted it in grade school.”

Sehun sounded to let you know he heard you before returning to his usual silence. He wasn’t the loudest, not even with the kids. He preferred saying less, or saying nothing at all and letting them think he was teasing them. They could heckle him for hours and he wouldn’t budge, not saying a word. It was funny on one hand, seeing them tire out because of it but, on the other hand, you sometimes found yourself wanting to hear his voice. You wanted to hear the way he’d tease them or make silly jokes, or prompt tiny arguments between the two about yogurt or what colour their favourite superhero’s cape was. Both were touchy subjects and both arguments had happened before but they were still funny to watch until they got out of hand and scratched you when you tried to pull them apart.

“I’m still sorry about that,” Sehun said, bashful and not looking at you directly. You simply raised your eyebrows at him, glad that he admitted he was in the wrong for letting them get so physical.

“That’s okay,” you hummed, grabbing your bag and starting on your way down the steps. He was right behind you, like always, and his mouth worked faster than before.

“You know, I had a question to ask.” It was an odd phrase but he didn’t make a move to keep going. It was only when you looked at him from halfway inside the kitchen, going to get the boys’ snacks that he seemed to get the hint and keep going.

“O-oh. Right. Well, I was just thinking that since you couldn’t come to that dinner with your families that maybe we could try again or something?”

The proposal hung in the air behind you, your back to him as you placed small bars into your bag as well as some fruits. Your hands shook and you were unsure why, not understanding the reasoning behind your lightheadedness. He wasn’t doing anything different than usual but still, you held out hope for his upcoming words.

Realizing you hadn’t said anything, you managed, “I’ll let you know when we’re all free?”

There was silence, your eyes focused on your slow movements now, trying to avoid facing him. He had a way of stripping down defenses and making you weak in the knees just by looking at you. He’d always been quite telling of why he wanted to spend time with you, though never saying anything to you. It was in the way he held doors open for you or carried your supplies when your canvas was heavy. It was in the way he smiled when you attempted to make a joke or when he shared his umbrella with you when it rained. It was in the way he offered to help out with the kids without taking any of the pay.

His unsaid thoughts were in every action and every phrase but you never felt the gravity of them until now. Until he murmured quite awkwardly, “uh, no, it’s- I kind of just meant us two, outside of the job and stuff.”

Every fibre within you vibrated at the staccato phrase, lips parting for a moment before mechanically pressing back together. Stiffly, you turned to face him but nothing specific came out. No shadow of a yes left your lips though your insides screamed, wanting to be set free. There was an oppressive feeling on your chest and the whispers of the outside and they seeped into your brain. They stopped your thoughts like black sludge filling holes and the part of you that tried to accept the offer was stopped. The sludge solidified, locking them up in your head while the picture perfect you stayed silent. The beat was all too long and Sehun’s face dropped before picking up again with an innocent smile. His hand reached to rub the back of his neck, stretching and trying to avert your attention from the disappointment in his body.

“That’s okay, it was kind of a stupid question, I guess,” he said, dismissing it and trying to seem carefree about it. To distract himself, he looked at the time on his watch, saying the two of you were late and that you best be on your way. He walked out ahead of you, saying he’d wait and closing the door behind him lightly.

You exhaled heavily, eyelids fluttering and chest heaving. Holding back a frustrated scream, you rubbed your hands over your face, trying to wash away your embarrassment. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why did you just stand there and stare at him? You must’ve looked like a blowfish with nothing to say. Annoyed, you groaned and threw the last bar inside your bag, hoping somehow that would help. It didn’t but it was worth a try and you hurried after Sehun, not wanting to be late.

It was fair to say the two of you didn’t speak much for the rest of the day. You took to the kids at the park while he watched on. It was only when the sun was setting and the two boys had a few friends on the playgrounds with more attentive moms than you that you took your spot next to Sehun on the wooden bench. Your back was straight and lips were zipped, uncomfortable as you sat on the edge of the chair. Sehun was relaxed, showing nothing through his furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes. He was facing the sun and had forgotten his hat again so he was squinting to watch the kids. Slowly, you unfastened the strap on yours and handed it over to him, hoping he’d take it as a peace offering.

When his fingers formed around the grey material, you murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, forming the hat around his head before tightening it. You watched as the designs crinkled and then straightened as he moved his head. Somehow, looking around his was easier than looking at him and you stuck to this routine. He did so as well, avoiding your gaze and keeping his knees a fair distance from yours.

Biting down on your lip, you wondered how to go about explaining yourself. You wanted to, you really did, but there were words and then there was putting them together and that process never seemed to work out very well. Slowly, fingers fidgeting and not knowing where to go, you managed, “it’s not that I don’t want to. I do.”

He seemed to swallow the statement, expression unchanging and it was so hard to talk to someone like this. He didn’t fit any mould, being sweet and playful one moment and then cold and distant the next. There was no consistency, though he wasn’t ever rude. You supposed that was consistency. Chewing on the silence, you sat there and kept your eyes on the playground. Inguk was being chased around in circles, laughing at the top of his lungs. It filled the air for the moment Sehun stayed silent.

“Okay,” he began, feeling like there was more to say but leaving you hanging. Your teeth were biting into your cheek and you could feel the summer heat starting to fade as night took over. Soon, the sun would set and you’d drop the kids off and that would be it. He’d walk you to your door, say goodnight, and the same chilled day would repeat again. You didn’t know if you could stand not being able to talk to him like usual, or not talk and have it feel natural. So, you let go of your cheek and sighed.

“It’s just that I’m afraid of what people will say if they see us together,” you admitted. You two were seen together often, yes, but the kids were there. It was an understood mutual partnership. Outside of that, it would seem like so much more. People would whisper. Your parents would know. You’d hate it and you’d want to escape, to hide from eyes that bore into you already like you didn’t belong.

“Really?” His voice was sharp, finally turning to face you. Unsure of his tone, you didn’t say anything back, waiting for his cutting words. “Why are you so caught up in what people think of you? First, it’s that you shouldn’t be a painter. Then it’s ‘what if they find out you’re working for no pay, Sehun?’. Now it’s ‘what’ll they say if we go on a date, Sehun?’.”

His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to understand something he couldn’t- something you wouldn’t allow him to see. Your knees bumped into each others without meaning to, his control slowly slipping as he muttered, “come on, y/n.”

“What do you want me to say?” you asked, trying to mimic the ice in his tone but knowing it didn’t come out that way at all. You had crossed your arms though, hoping it would create some sort of barrier. Sehun didn’t budge from his spot but he did turn more to see you, arm coming to the back of the bench and resting there comfortably.

“I want you to give me a real reason as to why you don’t want to go out with me.”

“I never said I didn’t want to,” you said, quiet but forceful enough to make a point. Sehun searched for your eyes, finding them when you turned your head. By force, you made your face straight and tried to hide your inner frustration, feeling just as upset with yourself for caring what other people think.

“I know,” he sighed, genuinely tired and you could see the bags under his eyes from this close. You wanted to ask how he was doing, if he was sleeping enough, but it wasn’t your place so you stopped yourself. Pulling in your bottom lip, you looked back down at your shoes and stayed silent.

“Do you mind if I head home early?” he asked, voice low and hidden. You shook your head and, with that, he got up from his spot and the warmth of his leg pressed against yours was gone. He placed the grey hat on your head without any force, letting it rest there and bidding you a good night. His dark jeans drifted away and you lifted your head to watch him walk to say goodbye to the boys before turning to go home. The world stilled, wind blowing slowly and breaths taken in parts. His departure took all the life and movement from the world and nothing seemed to matter all too significantly unless it was a responsibility you had to care for- and even then.

“Nana y/n,” Kihyun whined, running up to you with Inguk in step. They both had grass in their hair and dirt on their faces and you sighed, rubbing it out while he spoke. “We’re tired now. Can we go for dinner?”

Inguk nodded and you followed suit, pushing a smile for them. The light from the sun was just above the treetops and the wind swept through the air. Looking at the sky reminded you of Sehun’s hair so you avoided it, helping the two boys put on their windbreakers and taking them to the diner. Shouldering your backpack, you asked them what they wanted and felt their tiny hands slip into yours by habit. They both shrugged, murmuring different things and taking your mind to a place where you didn’t have to worry about what you said or when you said it.

With these kids, you could be yourself and you loved it because people just assumed you were doing it for the boys; but you were really doing it for yourself. You let go of every feeling you could with them, pretending they were airplanes or drawing them as superheroes when they grabbed the towels from the closet and played superhero. It was easy to let go and understand things from a simplistic point of view, where complicated emotions and situations didn’t get in the way. It was just you, bare and open. Deep down, you envied the lives these children had, listening to them babble. Though, the reality was you envied any life that wasn’t riddled with problems and side glances and whispers on the street.

You envied Baekhyun for loving himself properly. You envied the plans he made to leave this place and the lazy smile that creeped on his lips when you both lie side by side on your roof to watch the stars. You envied Heeji for her ability to live her life without the suffocation of parents or responsibility. You envied the youth in her face and how nothing ever seemed to get to her. You envied Grandma Oh even, whose voice was enough to pierce millions and cause so much love. You envied Sehun the most, his person so strong that he still kept his head high despite the degrading words people say about him no matter where he goes. You envied his ability to relish in being an outcast because all you wanted was to fit in somewhere but you couldn't. You were just like him: out of place and odd, like rippled water in a still river. You didn’t make sense and neither did he and maybe that was the source of all your frustration. He couldn’t care less and you cared all too much.

Most of your night was spent thinking about this, especially after coming home and packing for your train ride into the city. Your thoughts wandered like strangers in streets, nowhere to go and nothing to do. They loitered and disappeared and came back for another swing. Even as you rubbed cream into your face, hoping your skin could mimic Heeji’s, there they were. They pressed against your eyes and stuck to your skin like the sweat that lingered there.

Groaning, you exhaled and leaned forward. Looking at yourself in the mirror was a pathetic sight, eyes tracing over bumps and shoulder and cheekbones that held nothing but steel. You were chilled to the bone, your own world locked inside a glass box that contained a fire. It licked and licked, begging to be let out. You didn’t know how to do it, feeling tears spark at the ends of your eyes out of frustration. Even alone, you couldn’t just be yourself anymore. Everything pressed in on you, the sound of your family past the doors and the little laughs outside. You choked down the sobs, not wanting to be heard or let it out. You hated feeling this way- torn down and weak and stupidly emotional. Everyone pressed you down but you pressed yourself down the most and you knew this. The only thing was, how could you fix that in a place like this?

Composing yourself, you clenched your jaw and hardened slightly more. You couldn’t stand being inside, the heat too much to handle just as the lights and your parents were. You threw a long sleeve shirt over your material bra and tank top and slipped on comfortable pants. Grabbing your keys from your desk and the grey hat that rested beside it, you bounded down your stairs.

“Where are you going?” your dad asked, turning slightly and calling over his shoulder from his one-seater sofa. Your mother walked from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a white cloth and looking weary.

You gave her a small kiss on the cheek, going towards your running shoes and slipping them on as quick as possible while saying, “Heeji asked me to pick something up from the store and I completely forgot. Since I’ve got work in the morning, I thought I’d get it now.”

“At nine p.m.?” Your father fully turned to face you now, looking at you past glasses that slipped down his nose. You nodded, shifting uncomfortably in hopes of getting outside.

Under a scrutinizing look, your mother thought clearly and slowly drew out the question, “what are you getting?”

“Drugs, mom,” you scoffed, returning her narrowed eyes with a bored look on your face before continuing, “she just wants some groceries she hasn’t been able to pick up and some stuff for her bathroom. Said she’ll pay me back and everything, don’t worry.”

Your parents reluctantly let you out the door, though nothing could happen to you in this town. Headphones plugged in and blaring, you walked quickly into town and breathed easier. It was still stale outside and you wished you’d brought a fan to save yourself from the heat but the walk was good for you. Seeing the lights and the barren nightlife was enough to get you out of your head and your heart slowed, calm and just. There was enough distraction and it was what you needed, taking as much time as you could in the grocery store.

You strolled, smiling at a few neighbours but not stopping for conversation. The small grocery shop was easy enough to be ignored in and you took pleasure in it, humming to your tunes and staring at a jar of pickles. Heeji didn’t need anything but you couldn’t come back empty handed so you looked for the cheapest things. Paying, you smiled and went through the motions. There was nothing new about this but the time at which you were shopping. Holding the small plastic bag, you drifted to the drug store for some body soap and walked through aisles like you floated, imagining your feet never touched the floor.

And somehow, apricot hair still caught your eyes. There he was, looking at a bottle of painkillers for minor headaches halfway down the aisle, staring so intently it looked as if his brain was about to explode. The sight brought a slight smile to your lips, watching him place a hand on his hips then take it off then put it back again. You were surprised he hadn’t seen you, coyly calling himself a hawk that saw everything. Though, you couldn’t sneak up on him as you might have tried, eyes flicking up to yours before coming back down as you walked towards him. He seemed not to know who you were and you counted down from three before he shot his head up and stared.

Taking a headphone out, you hummed, “hello.”

Blinking slowly, resuming his previous action of reading the label, he repeated the greeting. He tried ignoring you but you simply grabbed a bottle just the same as his and stared at it as well. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly interesting on it, but you stood by his side and looked at your bottle for a solid, silent minute.

“What are we looking for?” you whispered quietly, noticing he was slightly unfocused and holding back your smile. You felt the walls of your veins loosen, like cholesterol was being swept out of your system piece by piece. Sehun grumbled, folding an arm across his chest with furrowed brows.

“I can’t see if this interacts with other medicine.”

Turning the bottle over and over, hearing the slight shift of pills, you set out as well. The label was written illogically but, at the bottom of a large description, you exclaimed and pointed. “There. Doesn’t interact with other medications.”

“Perfect,” he breathed, taking your bottle instead of the one he had in his hand. He looked relieved and you wanted to ask why but zipped your lips together. “Thank you.”

A light shrug came off your shoulders like a peeled layer and you patted his shoulder lightly. The circles under his eyes were bigger and you wanted to say a lack of sleep affected focusing but didn’t want to taunt him. So, you kept quiet and moved to walk away. The goodnight nearly fell off your lips but there he was, bright as a setting sun with words like liquid gold.

“What are you doing here?”

You lifted your bag slightly, muttering something about late night shopping. He nodded, clearly caught between paying and leaving or staying with you. Taking the first step, letting the air conditioning sweep away your problems like it was sweeping away the heat on your skin, you spoke. “Want to wait for me and we can walk home?”

His smile formed slowly, corners of his lips lifting at the offer. Trying not to seem too eager, Sehun cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, sputtering out an okay and coming up behind you. He followed closely, making meaningless comments on the body soaps and shampoos you picked up as he did so.

“That’s too fruity.”

The light reflected off his hair, making it shine brighter and causing a small chuckle of amusement to bubble in your throat. You didn’t put it down, taking the soap to the cash. You walked backwards to face him as you did so, knowing the store like the back of your hand and musing, “that’s what you said about the other five.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

You hummed in response, going to pay. Sehun whistled a tune far from the one still streaming through a headphone, buying his little bottle of pills and chatting with the owner. Both looked uncomfortable but continued the pleasantries until you saved them by tugging Sehun away. Your hand was softly on the underside of his upper arm, pulling him away and saying goodnight as you exited; but the night had other plans and suddenly you had linked arms as you walked outside.

There was hardly a word spoken, silence and the slow rolling of tires past you filling everything. You forgot to put more songs up next so the headphone went cold, hanging in your ear like a dud. Your free hand tugged at it, stuffing the whole wire in your pocket as Sehun stared at the sky.

“They’re so clear here,” he stated rather vaguely. You lifted the rim of your hat and raised your head, eyes finding the stars. Your pace slowed as you did so, a quiet hum falling through your lips.

“I stay up and watch them sometimes.” This wasn’t very private information, though no one but Baekhyun knew you climbed on your roof for them. Sehun’s eyebrow quirked up, asking for more information and drawing your eyes from the swirling stars.

You continued, trying desperately to show him that somehow, you wanted to spend time together just as much as he did. Though you were as cold as a desert at night, you still longed for a feeling of love, thinking it the only thing that could save you now. You were beyond loving yourself but perhaps someone could bring you to the point where you could try.

“Stars are part of the reason I paint. They’re kind of like paintings in the sky. They don’t exist anymore and we’re just seeing balls of gas that exploded eons ago. These are just reflections but they never go away. They never move. They’re consistent and immortalized forever in a never changing sky. It’s kind of beautiful and I found myself wanting to do that. I wanted to make something beautiful that could stay forever.”

You saw him chew on the words you were saying, looking at you between hair that had fallen in his eyes. His smile was the slightest bit longer, stretching across rather than up and it showed no teeth.

“You do make paintings that beautiful,” he said, pointedly like he was trying to convince you. You stared right back, not caring he was seeing you barefaced. It as odd, being able to speak to someone candidly. Even Heeji and Baek had to force those words out of you and with him, they flowed like water.

A thank you slipped past your lips and you looked at your barely moving feet. A pebble rolled across the ground, hardly making a sound. There were just your feet, walking in step and you wanted to capture the image. His white shoes were scuffed at the ends and brown from running around with the kids. Yours were a deep gray, fraying where the stitching came together at some points. You both looked like absolute messes, different from the norm here which was prim and proper clothing, the best you could get. Women wore their makeup and men wore their work clothes. There weren’t any leisure pants like the black track pants he had on with stripes down the sides. No one wore their hats at night. Not a soul walked around without a watch. Yet, there you were, a mismatch of imperfections walking in perfect step with each other.

It caused your heart to thump a little faster, hitting your ribcage with a budding urgency- a need for you to pay attention to it. How could you not though, having his body so close to yours? It was the cause of all your internal discourse, the beads of water forming on your palms and forehead being helped by the heat. You could’ve stayed that way forever, you decided. You could’ve walked on and kept walking, past cities and lives, only to hear him talk and have him there. He made you feel a little less odd, though you stood out like black sheep, and you appreciated him for it.

“So where do you watch these stars from?” Sehun held a soft tone, as if anything too loud would burst the bubble you created. You touched shoulders, barely pressed against each other as your hand splayed out to keep itself hooked onto him.

“I’ll show you,” you decided, giving him a light smile.

The two of you climbed onto your roof, throwing your bags in your room through your window. You had him wait for a moment so you could walk through the front door alone and called him up when your parents departed to their bedroom. You relaxed on the tiled roof, a thin blanket you kept for the roof underneath you. Sehun lied down next to you, not touching but just close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. His head was facing upwards and you had to stop yourself from turning to stare at him, lips bitten down by your teeth. He seemed to have a lot on his mind and you couldn’t pretend like your conversation during the day didn’t happen. He was ever so prevalent and you couldn’t let a dumb falling out like that get between you. Despite your pride, you let the apology fall from your mouth like a weighted stone.

“I’m sorry for not being candid about my feelings.”

The formality of your words made you wince, though the corners of his eyes crumpled lightly at the phrase. Clearly he thought it was amusing, though he made no move to make a joke of it and simply hummed, “that’s okay.”

The apology wasn’t enough and you felt it. Staring at the yellow twinkling in against a blackened sky, you bit further down on your lip. Then, slowly, you admitted, “I’d- I’d like to go out- with you, I mean.”

He turned his head, looking right at you with surprise on his slightly parted lips. You didn’t know if he was faking it or not, sure he knew you liked him. You wouldn’t keep him around if you didn’t, though you weren’t sure when exactly you started feeling this way. There wasn’t a doubt that you did though, the quickened pace of your heart when you saw him telling enough.

“What about the people?” He raised his hands, wiggling his fingers as he spoke.

You attempted to shrug, ripping your eyes from the sky and being met with brown eyes that resembled chocolate. You nearly fell into them, trying to ignore the way your voice shifted between tones as you said, “people talk all the time.”

This caused him to smile, dropping his hand so it rested between your bodies. You weren’t unaware of it as he turned his head back to the sky. He was waiting for a move, for you to meet him halfway, and you couldn’t deny it. Your fingers twitched like they did when you wanted to paint, the urge to feel his skin against yours somehow unignorable. Slowly and surely, your pinkies linked together and a light breath went past your lips, like a sigh of relief.

The rest of the night went by slowly, like time stopped; but it was for a different reason than before. Sehun had kept all the life in him and he was giving it back to you, stopping time to fill you in on what you missed. Your heart thumped, letting him entwine your fingers like they were fated to be in each other. You fit into each other like two puzzle pieces in a larger picture. Though, the picture didn’t matter much to you at all. It just mattered that you’d found your counterpart and you were happy enough to lie there on a tiled roof, listening to him breathe and watching the stars swirl past.

It had been more than a week since you and Sehun finalized you were to go out. There were no plans but it was good enough for both of you that you’d confirmed: you were going, no matter what. The end of your summer course was upon you and you only had an exam to write. It was as if the world was playing a cosmic joke, taking away one of the only pieces of freedom you had. It was on an especially stupid date, sometime in the middle of the week, and you hated it completely. You didn’t even want to go but that would mean failing the course and wasting money. So, there you were, babysitting Inguk and Kihyun before needing to board the train to the city.

They were running amok in your house, promising to be good so you could cram in a few more minutes of studying. It wasn’t their ideal but you needed it, plus you’d promised them ice cream if they gave you this free pass. It was an easy enough deal. With a yellow highlighter behind your ear, a pink one in your mouth, and an orange one in hand, you stared hard at your textbook. Nothing particularly made sense with the kids playing in the background, voices rising with the excitement they had. You had to call them multiple times, asking for them to be quieter before they really listened.

When your alarm went off, alerting you it was near lunchtime for them, you found them in your room playing with the old lego you’d set up there. Kihyun was poking at one of your brushes but quickly recoiled from your box when you walked in, looking innocently guilty. You simply announced lunch would be ready soon and told them to follow you, asking for help. Inguk clung to your leg all the way down while Kihyun ran between them to get a head start. He was making a buzzing sound and jogging in circles with a dishcloth tucked into the back of his shirt messily and his arms out when you got to the kitchen.

“I’m faster than Sehun, don’t you think?”

He had his eyebrows furled and arms angled up now, like he was landing whatever plane. Speeding up, he almost knocked into a chair and stumbled before starting up again. You didn’t quite respond but chuckled a bit and let Inguk heckle him, yelling small ‘never!’s at the kid. You started up on whatever you could think of, letting both of them hand you minor things.

“Spoon,” you demanded, holding out a hand lowly. Inguk waddled over with a large ladle and pressed it into his palm.

“Cutting board?” You would test them, raising an eyebrow to see if they knew where it was. Leaning back on the counter, you would wait and watch them pick up a few things before getting it right. Usually the reward was a candy or a taste before the food was fully displayed. Only, today was slightly different.

As you went to get their usual favourite, a soft cookie with chocolate chips in it, you found water in the cupboard. Acting quite like a mother, you followed the water stains and opened many more cupboards to find the leak under the sink. With a curse under your breath, you ran to lower the temperature on the stove before moving the kids out of the kitchen.

“But we haven’t had our snack,” Kihyun protested, pouting and hoping to get his way. You leaned down, holding his small hands with a tight comfort.

Rubbing his arms, you murmured, “how about cake and ice cream when I come back then?”

Both of them immediately said yes, much too excited, and departed into the living room. All you had to do was set up the television and then you could try and figure out what to do. For a moment, you ignored the water but the slow drip of water was bothering you more than it should have and you groaned, dropping your wooden spoon in the pan.

Flicking your eyes over to your phone, you gave into the temptation to call him, and he was here in minutes with a ridiculous tool belt around his waist and a flashlight taped onto his cap. He had stuck a toothpick between his teeth, forming a Southern accent as he spoke.

“What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

Amused but also slightly troubled, you gaped at Sehun for a moment before scoffing, “was that really what you spent your time on?”

Removing a terrible pair of sunglasses over his eyes with slight shock, he murmured, “what, you don’t like it?”

“Just help me, please,” you begged slightly, trying not to affect your voice. You couldn’t let him see how much you needed your help, or rather, wanted his help. You knew plenty of mechanics or plumbers that could come as soon as possible but he was so close. Just a skip across the street.

To be fair, you did just want to see him and having his orange, fading hair in your house instantly made it brighter. With a light smile, he raised his hands with a jingle of his belt and chuckled, “alright, alright, no need to beg.”

Once he set to work, his face hardened and he seemed to focus completely. His eyebrows furled, mouth curling, and he didn’t move his shirt down when it rode up and exposed the bottom of his chest. You tried hard not to look, staring at your food, stirring, opening cupboards and finding spice- anything so you didn’t stare. Though the few glances you gave him, or when he asked for you to help him for a moment: those were enough to make your heart flutter. When his fingers curled around his or when he said your name lowly, like the silence was something he couldn’t break, caused blush to creep up your neck. You felt it so obviously and you were so unsure as to why- why him? Why his smile? Why his voice?

With only the slight sizzling of food and the low television in the background, as well as the chattering of the kids, the house seemed to fill. There was nothing but the smell of a home, where you could feel wrapped in a light blanket. The charring of your skin, which you had been nursing by yourself in your room- the only place you ever felt truly okay- started to mend slowly. You didn’t notice it, but you did feel the slightest bit lighter and it showed in your step and the fluidity of your movements. You also didn’t notice the way he would pause his work just to watch you pull in your bottom lip or rub your hands together as you decided what next to put inside your meal. You didn’t notice the way he made his work quieter so you could continue focusing. You didn’t notice the way he adorned you with his eyes, like you were the only thing to exist that ever really mattered and for a split second, he doubted you ever would.

Putting the burner on low and moving to grab plates, you stepped past a straightening Sehun. He was taking his gloves off slowly, picking each finger off before removing it. With his eyes faced down, looking at his hand like it was the only hint he was allowed to look like, he said, “I’m finished.”

“Oh?” The smile on your lips was natural as you looked over your shoulder at him. You leaned across the table to put the plates in their proper place, gripping the chair with one hand while lifting a foot off the ground for more reach. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

He simply shrugged, as if he was saying he knew, and then shot you a kind look. It was between a smile and a smirk, but it was softer than anything you’d ever seen. He had his gloves draped across one thigh as he sat on your tile floor, hands placed behind him so he could lean and legs slightly apart. He watched you walk between the two rooms, followed your every move. There was a mysticism in his eyes, like he didn’t mind the scene he was seeing. Unable to read his mind, you couldn’t help but speak up about it.

“Are you going to help?” Your eyes were on your table, fixing glasses beside the plates. You heard him shuffle and get up as you continued, “I’d just need cutlery now.”

“Where are they?” His voice was soft, looking down at your marble counters and the drawers below them. He nearly reached his hand out to the wrong drawer and you simply led his hand, wrapping his fingers around the right handle.

“This one,” you murmured, giving him a slight look and feeling the shallowness in your breath. You were paused, trying to figure out what you wanted to get from the kitchen yourself. Your mind was caught up in itself though, biting down at you for doing that first, like it was somehow inappropriate. The question of why kept running through your mind, especially when he left to go and put the forks and knives where they needed to be. You opened the drawer to your left, checking if he got the kids’ utensils as well and seeing he did.

Slight relief came through your hands and you tried to exhale- tried to move to the food and place it on the table or call the kids but there he was again. He just appeared in front of you, walking on clouds so you couldn’t hear him coming. The only thing that made any sound was the pounding of your heart, cracking ribs in your chest and you were somehow breathless.

There wasn’t much to say, though your mind tried to think of something. Your mouth worked, murmuring only his name. But his eyes were on yours and they were enough to steal your mind. He held oceans in them, so quiet and still now- so determined. He looked so at peace inside, like he knew what he wanted to say to you and how. You didn’t even notice the way he left space for you to evade him, to step to the side and continue about your work. You couldn’t. He was so far pressed into your mind, like a toy tattoo that was somehow staining your skin permanently. Though, for the moment, you didn’t move to rub it away. You kept him at this distance, lips parting slightly and he looked at them for just a beat. But it was long enough for you to know. How could you not?

His heart was somehow close enough to feel and you could tell he was just as nervous- it was just as erratic and matched up perfectly with yours. Fingers fell just below your arm, so gingerly and softly, and you leaned into him, hip nearly bumping with his. You felt his belt against the bottom of your waist, felt every hair on your skin stand up slowly. Everything seemed to pause, your heart swimming in his eyes that held so many secrets. He was so close, nearly too close and you couldn’t help the anxiety that built up in your throat. You had so much you wanted to say, so many reservations and so many thoughts that bubbled up like foam. None of it passed your mouth, never allowed to.

How you hoped he’d just lean in further, tip his head down, place his lips on yours- how you wished he’d signed the contract with that, gladly taking your heart and placing it beside his. But the both of you procrastinated, waited too long, felt the breath hot on your skin but did nothing to stop it, and it was something you regretted more than you’d admit.

“Sehun!” Kihyun screeched, jolting the man in front of you from his place. The sincerity on his face, the seriousness that held no lie, melted away like ice cream on a summer day. He plastered on a smile and turned around, leaning down to pick up the child. You slowly felt your hands come alive, cool air touching your skin and slowly unpeeling you from your spot.

“Hey, kiddo, did you miss me?” His eyes trained themselves on the kid’s face, placing the boy on his hip before shifting him to his shoulders. Inguk somehow also appeared, running between your legs while you tried to make your way to the table again.

“Why are you here?”

The apricot man looked down at the child and narrowed his eyes suspiciously, asking seriously, “what, you don’t want to see me?”

Inguk shuffled in his spot, head just visible over the counter but you could tell his hands were caught behind his back, uncomfortable. “No.”

Clearing your throat, you hummed, “it’s time for lunch.”

All three heads turned your way, Sehun’s shielded so the kids wouldn’t see a thing. You pretended not to feel the jump in your throat, trying so hard not to look at him like more than he was- to build him up into something he wasn’t. You had a tendency of making people up when you liked them and then being disappointed when they revealed who they were. You couldn’t do that with him. You couldn’t ruin it and, despite hating the thought, you couldn’t help but feel like a kiss would have been a mistake. You would have fallen. You would have built him up into the figure of a perfect man.

You couldn’t do that, consuming him like you consumed everything- like you consumed yourself. You could barely feel anything but the flaking if your burnt insides that tried so hard to conceal a delicately deadly passion inside of you- one that burned like wildfire. You pushed it down and held it there and if you let Sehun in, the cup would overflow. It would be too much. You wouldn’t be able to hide a thing and for once in your life, you had to be honest. It scared you and you should have just told him but pushing the words past your teeth was even more terrifying.

Saying anything out loud meant a confirmation of your feelings. It was a stamp that proved you’d put yourself out there. There was no taking it back for, once it was out there, it became reality. You weren’t sure if you could make it in the real world, choosing fantasy a long time ago.

He chatted with the boys mostly during lunch, telling you that you could bring your books to study if you needed to cram. You couldn’t take him up on his offer, knowing you’d need something to distract you from his eyes but also being unable to retain any information. You were too scattered, caught between wanting to talk to him and wanting him to leave- wanting him next to you and wanting never to see him again. Everything seemed to be too much, overwhelming you. Heat came up your throat and creep across your cheeks and your mind, like a broken record, played the scene over and over again.

One arm rested on the counter beside you. He was bent the slightest bit forward, waiting for a sign. His skin was glowing, a soft gold from the sun streaming in through the window above the sink. There were a few cracks in his lips, like he’d bitten them moments before as he was working. There were a few blemishes on his forehead and across his cheeks. There were wrinkles under his eyes from a lack of sleep and mint rolling off his tongue. There he was, in full and unglamorous view with a slightly stained shirt and hair messed up from his position as he was fixing the sink; but there was nothing imperfect about him. There couldn’t be, even if you wanted there to be.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” he offered, sliding his hand over yours as he placed another dish in the sink. It was the only time you could find your voice, somehow managing to shoo him away so you could have time on your own.

“Just- can you please keep them entertained?” you asked, so static and rough. A small filter fell over his eyes, throwing up another defense at your refusal of his help. Yet, he pursed his lips together and nodded, moving past you. His hand left your skin last, tracing across your upturned palm. The shivers that ran over your spine were enough to make you turn your head and watch him lead the kids into the living room for some small games.

You could barely hear his voice over the flowing water and kept it that way for as long as feasible possible before the fear of your exam creeped back into your mind. You were now coupled with two problems- small in the grand scale of things but seeming so important. There was failing your exam if you didn’t study anymore but there was also the seeping sunset in your mind that bled into pages and into your eyes. He was everywhere and in everything, in every colour you saw and every pen. You couldn’t deny it, not even when you closed your eyes to escape it and drove the bottoms of your palms into your eyes in hopes of washing him out- but none of it worked. It was silly of you to assume it ever would, though you could assume he felt the same way; that wouldn’t be silly, would it?

As time passed slower than usual but no parent showed up to pick up their children, you couldn’t help but feel sweat form on your palms. At the table, you snatched up your phone to a message:

Ms. Cho: Hey, y/n, I know this is last minute but both of us are caught up at work and can’t make it. Can we entrust you with the kids a bit longer? Thanks so much xox, we’ll be there by eight p.m. latest!

The scoff that came from your lips was much too audible, you shoulders sinking and eyes unbelieving. You didn’t know what to say as a response, somehow not being able to tell her that you’d have to be on a bus to the city by seven- that you’d have to go and leave them alone. You didn’t know what else you could do, knowing the Mrs. Cho didn’t trust Sehun alone with the kids. You thought of proposing something else, letting them stay anywhere else, but you were the only person they ever stayed with. The foaming bubbles of anxiety lifted up again and you found yourself dumbfounded, staring at your phone while your forehead rested in your hand for support.

“What happened?” Sehun asked lightly, across the kitchen from the fridge. He was handling a water bottle, turning it over in his hands as he shut the door quietly. There was a genuine concern in the softness of his tone, feet padding across the floor to get to you.

You sighed, “Neither of their parents can come pick them up before eight.”

“So?”  He took the cap off the bottle, sitting down across from you with a shrug falling off his shoulders.

Fixing him with a stern look, upset and unable to think of a solution, you huffed, “so, I have my bus to catch by seven or else I don’t make it into the city on time and then I fail my exam and I’m barely passing which means I fail the whole course and-”

“Alright. alright,” Sehun hummed, raising his hands softly off the table to try and bring you down, “just breathe, okay? You won’t fail.”

“That’s the last bus,” you countered, trying to make him understand. His face didn’t change, not showing any concern. He just told you to wait for a moment, reaching into his pocket and taking his time before humming and sliding you a card.

“Okay, this is your driver’s license. How does that help?” Your eyebrow raised, sliding it back to him across the table as you muttered, “are you teasing me or something?”

A dry chuckle fell off his lips, unbelieving. “No, I’m not.”

“Then what?” You couldn’t help the edge of your words, angry at the Chos, angry at Sehun for no reason, angry at yourself. You were just frustrated and having him there was agitating you more, like he was just a reminder of one more stressor in your life- something you couldn’t think of right then and there.

“I’m trying to say I can drive you if you want.”

His eyes were kind, throwing the offer in the air like a gift. It wasn’t meant to be rude but you supposed the way you took it wasn’t perfect. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, like you had to depend on him for no reason. Though, you supposed that might have just been your own reservations. His fingers formed around his card, taking it off the table while you shook your head, muttering a hard ‘no’.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to drive you,  you just didn’t want to be alone together. You didn’t know what you’d do or say or feel. You didn’t know what falling asleep in his car might feel like, if he’ll keep you warm and give you a blanket. You didn’t know a thing, but there you were, imagining it like a fool. You couldn’t have that. You couldn’t be so caught in this head of yours, knowing you weren’t in the best place to accept this offer. But his mouth worked and made good points, saying he’d be quicker than the bus and you’d be able to finish studying a little more- that you’d fulfill your responsibility.

“If you don’t want me to though, just tell me. I don’t want to force you or anything.”

He nodded, giving you a little smile before getting up from his spot. He rapped on the table once as a goodbye and leisurely strolled to the room with the kids.

“Sehun, can we play sandman?” Inguk asked, tugging on Sehun’s sleeve. The man grinned, setting down his water bottle and getting fairly close to Inguk’s face. His hands rested on his knees, eyes narrowed again and voice low. You could barely make out what he said, watching him challenge the boy with a stiffness in your veins.

“You bet we can.”

Commotion occurred in the living room, sounds too loud. You couldn’t think, or make a decision. You couldn’t do a thing, sitting there like an idiot and letting him distract you. So, you snatched up your books and huffed, taking the stairs two at a time. The momentum gave you some sort of spark and you didn’t understand the suddenness of your fingers- the impulse under your skin. There it lay though, ready to be tapped into and you didn’t ignore it. You sent a text, making up your mind on a whim.

Me: that’s fine! I’ll see you at eight!

The reality of it all sunk into your shoulders, eyes shutting softly. Your books collapsed beside each other on the bed. There was nothing but a heaviness in your chest, knowing what time alone could do. Whenever you were alone, you spoke about the most fantastical and most realistic things at once. The two of you were silent understanders, listeners, speakers. You didn’t know what would happen, but you had to try something. You couldn’t go into this exam feeling scattered, knowing it would only jinx you for it. You needed to be in tip top shape. You needed to talk to each other. You needed to know what he was thinking, and you would. You would get everything figured out, that you knew well enough. The only question was how.

“What are we doing? Together, I mean. Are we dating or is it a friends with benefits kind of thing?” He waved his pen around, trying to make the question seem light when it wasn’t. You should’ve known this was coming, the two of you too careful around each other to bring it up. Yet, the passing days had brought you closer and he seemed fed up enough to say something. To be honest, you were glad to hear it, though the question still struck you speechless.

Your mouth moved around, curving into an ‘o’ but not exactly forming words. Hands dropping from your hair, you managed something that sounded like ‘I don’t know’. Hwitaek’s eyes which started out bright during the day when you first met up for lunch were now a darker brown, lips coming to press together as he nodded. Feeling him retracting into himself, you got up from your chair and came to sit in front of him, folding your legs under you as you did so. He looked up at you over his knees before they softened and his legs fell to either side of you. He had discarded his notebook and pen, putting it to the side with a slight pout on his lips.

“What do you want us to be?” you asked, taking initiative for the moment. Your hands fell into his, weaving your fingers between his. It was silent in your house, the gears turning in his head the only sound that filled the space.

“That’s not fair,” he chuckled, though it was sad and without humour, “you know I can’t focus when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Well try,” you pressed, trying to tug your fingers from his but he resisted, pulling you in so you rested on his chest. Twisting, your back pressed against his front but your cheek was still half on his cotton sweater. He held you around the waist, fingers stil entwined with yours and tracing shapes on them, and was silent for a bout.

Them deciding on his words, he said, “I want us to be together but that has to be a two-sided thing. Jisoo said you went through a rough break up, told me to be careful and I didn’t bring it up because of that. I want you to take your time but I also want…”

Trailing off, his finger came to your chin and tilted it towards him. He pressed his chin to his chest to see your eyes and slowly, he murmured, “I also want you to only look at me, like you’re doing right now. I don’t want to see you give this to anyone else. I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Tell you what,” you started, sitting the slightest bit up in your seat so you could kiss him comfortably. Between them, you whispered, “I promise not to look at anyone else like this if you promise to give me more time.”

“Deal,” he breathed, leaning further into every kiss, keeping you longer, holding his breath along with yours. Not a single heartbeat was rushed and you relished in the way he ran his fingers through your hair with one hand and held your jaw with the other. It was like he was telling you exactly where you needed to be and how and when. The control was new but something that caused blood to rush through your ears and you gave yourself up to every movement.

You wondered if this deal was a good one later that night, lying in his arms on the couch. Your parents would be home soon and you both knew this but it didn’t seem to bother either of you. Hwi was watching the movie intently, chewing on his bottom lip, and you stole glances at the screen. You knew he saw you staring and was avoiding your eyes to be coy but you rather liked it, suppressing the giant smile that slipped on your lips.

“Watch the movie, you creep,” he chuckled under his breath, moving only one half of his mouth and you grumbled, squeezing in closer to him and trying to focus.

The people on the screen were having an argument, talking about the ghost in the house or something to that effect. They were walking around their crisp, white room wearing their pajamas, the girl in a white nightgown. How cliche, you thought, wondering at what point she’d be splattered with blood. Silently, you made a bet that it was the husband’s as you fixed your position again. Hwi asked if you were comfortable and, since your nod was a lie, he shifted and let you fall closer into him. Your ear was now against his heart, breathing matching up with yours while your eyes fell to the screen.

With a heavy blink, body tired from earlier activities, you found yourself in a similarly white room as before. The details were all the same and yet warped at the ends, like they didn’t really exist. Striking the end of a cupboard with a flick, you watched it ripple. The circles started out small and slowly, slowly, they spread until they reached your feet. Everything became distorted, including your legs. You felt yourself stuck when you wanted to run but you couldn’t. You knew you should but you just couldn’t move and the moment you opened your mouth to scream, your throat rippled and you no longer existed. You were a figment of your imagination, a head stuck in your a jar filled with nothing but dying memories and the faint smell of cologne.

Jolting awake from the sound of the door behind you opening, you lifted off of Hwitaek immediately and were met with your chatting parents, taking their shoes off at the door. Your dad saw you first, waving with his free hand. The other held a large white bag and his plaid shirt stretched over his stomach.

“Hey, kiddo,” he seemed to beam instead of say, smile growing until he saw Hwitaek and it paused, dropping to the floor. Your mother looked between you two, hanging up her coat and waving hello. Hwi resorted to a slight bow, inclining his head as he went to say hello.

“This is, um, this is my boyfriend, Wo- uh, Hwitaek.”

He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, probably stuck on the word boyfriend rather than your slip up, you hoped. Your mother, beaming and excited, bypassed the handshake and went in for a hug, squealing, “a boyfriend! Y/n’s never brought home a boyfriend before!”

“Really?” He looked back at you as your father shook his hand and they exchanged pleasantries, then said, “hopefully, she won’t have to again.”

It was a joke but your father wasn’t impressed and it showed in the crease by his mouth when he asked, “so you plan on marrying her?”

Hwi’s thin smile faded, quivering under your father’s stare and you sighed, trying to figure out how to save the situation. Your mother, forever your saviour, laughed mechanically and smacked your father’s arm.

“He’s such a tease,” she crooned, dragging him to the kitchen and hoping you were following behind, “he does that all the time.”

“Does he?” Hwitaek mumbled under his breath, still keeping his smile on while his fingers locked with yours. You shook your head and the look he gave you, spelling ‘save me’ across his brows, was pricelessly comical.

“Alright, boyfriend, come on,” you said, hushed and wheeling him to the kitchen where your mother was bumbling about, getting cookies and tea.

“Wait,” he muttered just as you were about to lose the cover of the wall, pausing and pulling you back. His lips fell onto yours, hands cupping your cheeks before he let you go. Bringing your heels down to the ground slowly, he whispered, “thank you.”

You curled your fingers around his palm, your cheeks pushed up to your eyes due to his hands and the smile you gave him squished them closer up. Glad he knew the phrase was for him, you wordlessly led him to the kitchen and let him embarrass himself in front of your parents. He had an awkward charm and you could watch him for days, knowing he fit right in despite your father’s jabs. He was deflecting them pretty well, though, and that was telling enough. You found yourself comfortably at peace, especially when you squeezed his palm under the island where you’d set a few chairs up to speak to your mom while she prepared the sweets. The way he returned it so effortlessly, so no one would even know you were connected, made you smile.

Quiet and mundane, you passed the night along in an uneventful way. Your mom loved him and your father was on edge. He gave you a kiss goodnight and got in his car and drove away. You texted him before bed and were asleep by eleven o’clock. There was nothing special about it and yet nothing ordinary about it. It felt ordinary but lying under every word- every look- there was so much weight and emotion. You felt it in places that hadn’t been awoken in a while and half of you, the optimistic half, wondered if you could make him stay; because pushing him away would be too hard.

Act 2, Scene 2: Jasmine

The music was muffled the moment you shut the door to the large bathroom. It was on the first floor and, to be honest, you were surprised it wasn’t flooded with people looking to get a light. Instead, it was just you and you exhaled deeply, eyes screwed shut. The air here was relatively free of smoke and you didn’t cough just standing there so you let yourself relax. Sliding down to the floor, you bent your knees and put your head in your hands.

Coming to this party had been a mistake. Hwi and you had gotten into an argument and a bad one. He told you that you weren’t committed to him and he didn’t understand why. He picked you up from school, he met your parents, he was nice to your friends, he did everything he could for you. You saw him behind you eyes, nostrils flared while the top of his nose was pressed down. He looked so mad, standing a few feet away from you and listing off the ways he liked you, as if you didn’t already know.

It wasn’t like you didn’t feel guilty. Hwi was a man of precision and planning, of futures and goals and everything that scared you. He talked about big ideas and the possibilities of time travel and everything that the world still had left to show him. It was what you admired about him and, knowing that, you probably shouldn’t have asked him to give you time. He’d ask what you were once a month, letting you lead him on and on and say that you needed just a little bit more.

“What are you waiting for?”

His voice rang clear in your ears, and you whimpered on the floor, digging your palms further into your eyes to try and get him out of your mind; but you couldn’t. You didn’t know what you were waiting for and why you asked for more time. Though, you supposed the question he should have asked was ‘who are you waiting for?’. It was hard to explain to someone that you were still in love with someone else, that they were still the person you last thought of before bed, and hoped to see on campus even though it would kill you. How could you ever tell Hwi that you had to fight not to pick up calls from an ex-boyfriend whose hand prints were still all over your heart? How could you tell him that it ached to see him smile because kissing him made you think of someone else?

You were selfish and guilty and the tears that slipped through your fingers were hard to ignore. God, you wanted to try for him but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Focusing on Hwitaek meant giving up on Wooseok and you didn’t know if you could bear it. Loving someone was one thing. Being in love with someone was another. It wasn’t hard to know how you felt about who.

You tried not to make a sound as you cried, holding in your sobs and taking in shallow breaths. It felt stupid, hiding the fact that you were crying in such a place. The music outside more than covered it up and you could probably be wailing without anyone knowing; but you were ashamed of yourself for crying like this. You didn’t have a right to sit there and make it a sob story, to feel like a victim when you were hurting people just as much as someone hurt you.

Stopping was easier said than done but you felt it every time you told Hwi you weren’t dating. It crushed him and you saw it when the lifting of his lips happened less and when he stopped wanting to kiss you. There was the comfortability of the honeymoon stage without any certainty of the future and it bothered him. It bothered you, but you were holding out for something you weren’t sure you were going to get. You supposed that was the worst part: uncertainty. The only thing was that you didn’t want to do what you knew would set him free.

The tub squeaked, quiet and sudden and you yelped, tearing your fingers apart to find Wooseok sitting in the white ceramic. His face was scrunched together painfully, like he wished he hadn't moved and you growled. Picking up a toilet roll that was on top of the sink, you threw it at him, free hand wiping at your tears.

“You just saw me crying and didn’t do anything?” Your voice cracked often and you hated yourself for it, wanting to appear strong despite your heaving chest and the redness in your cheeks.

Despite how meek he must have felt, he gave you a straight face and muttered, “you looked like you were having a moment.”

“Oh, fuck off, Wooseok,” you spat. You didn’t know why but seeing him made you mad and you couldn’t contain it. There was nothing he said that warranted you being mean but it was a volatile emotion and it grew in your stomach the further you stare at his profile.

He shrugged, not saying a word back. Realizing it frustrated you more, you debated getting up and leaving. You couldn’t be faced with another problem, especially when you were trying to suppress every thought of him. You didn’t want this to be another thought that would creep into everything you did or have it be something you day dreamed of on the bus. You couldn’t let that happen anymore. You were drawing a line: and yet, he spoke and you were stuck on the floor, back against the door and legs bent lower so you could see his face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was so quiet and resembled the Wooseok you knew so well- the one that laid himself bare for you often and would rub circles into your back for comfort.

With bitterness in your mouth, you shook your head and mumbled a ‘no’, knowing he wouldn’t want to hear a word you had to say about someone else. Besides, you weren’t supposed to be friends. You weren’t even supposed to be talking, that was the rule. Still, here you were, striking one up anyways as you picked at your nail polish.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Vernon’s in a group with one of the guys invited so we tagged along,” he said so offhanded, as if it was information he didn’t want to know, “you?”

“Hyojong is Hwi’s best friend,” you murmured, not looking up at him, like you were ashamed to drop his name in conversation so easily. Did you have a right?

“Oh.”

There was no other response. From over your knees, you could see him nod. He had a red cap on, lips pouted and hands shifting around a small tennis ball. He threw it to the wall in front of him, catching it within the large sleeves of his jean jacket and looking embarrassed by it, turning his head further away from you. His black jeans were torn at his knees, legs bent since they were too long to fit in the small bowl that held him. Everything about him was easy to fall into and you had to stop yourself from staring, biting your lip and returning your eyes to your chipping nails. Thumbnail scratching hard at the blue colour, you asked, “so you’re still hanging out with Vernon?”

“You’re still dating Hwi?” The response was immediate and sharp, like he was saying you had no right to comment on his life. His words were bitter and were spat, left by your shoes for you to try and clean up but you couldn’t

Scrutinizing, you narrowed your eyes at him. Trying to catch his gaze, with no success, you managed, “how’d you kno-”

“Vernon.” The name slipped of his tongue like velvet and you snorted. Of course. “So is Vernon your source of information now? How you get the daily gossip?” You waved your hands around, disdain dripping off syllables and hitting his ears with ease.

Woo simply shrugged, keeping up his rhythm with the ball as he stated so plainly, “well, he’s the school’s community centre. People go in and out of him all the time. Of course he knows.”

“Who told him?”

The whole conversation was staccato, no word dragged out for too long. “Jisoo.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms and sat up straight. Legs extended in front of you, you asked, incredulous, “they’re friends?”

“They hooked up once and meet for coffee sometimes.” Another shrug fell from his broad shoulders. With a long nod, you understood why Jisoo was always so secretive and why she ‘could never get a boyfriend’. My ass, you thought, she just didn’t want to admit who she liked.

“Does he like her?” Your interest went further, no longer hostile and now genuinely falling into the normal conversations you could usually have. With an eyebrow quirked up at you and head half turned to you, Wooseok noticed it and seemed to sulk more.

Pulling in his chin and sticking out his lips, he returned his gaze to the wall, bouncing the ball and catching it in tune. Giving you nothing, he muttered ‘probably’ and dropped it at that.

The smile you didn’t realize you had forming on your lips was wiped down and you returned your gaze to the floor. Only when a buzzing came from your phone was the silence broken and you looked at it. Hwi texted, asking where you were, and you didn’t know what to say. So, you simply placed the phone on the sink counter and sighed. Rubbing your eyes again, you tried to take your guiltiness off your face. You didn’t want to look so weak, not in front of Wooseok, who you felt was scrutinizing you.

Yet, his voice was so thin and quiet, absolutely hurt and shaking, murmuring, “why didn’t you pick up my call?”

Staying silent, you swallowed and was unsure what to do. Not looking at him still, the bouncing of the ball stopping and letting the muffled music take over the scene. You felt suffocated, upset with yourself and torn. He wasn’t helping though, chin tipped down and lips still pushed outwards.

“I know we said we wouldn’t talk but I miss you.” “Wooseok,” you whispered, hands shaking and the tears you’d been holding back from before slipping. You wiped them away, not wanting to let him see it but you knew he did. It was a mournful situation and hurt but his mouth kept moving.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told Vernon off when he insulted you. I did after though. Got a black eye for it and this scar here. See?” He chuckled after, sadly and trying to angle his cheek for you to see. Coming closer, you sat beside the bathtub and raised quivering fingers to touch his skin.

He watched you as you did so, eyeing your slightly open mouth and your smudged makeup. He didn’t dare reach out and you felt the electricity spark under your fingertips as you retreated. Back leaning against a drawer, you huffed a sigh and thought about a cool night. Crystals would rise in the air and be outlined by the overbearingly white fluorescent light of the bathroom. It would look like a cloud, floating up in the air and away from you, like something taking away all your stress.

“Why’d you start smoking?” you mumbled, hoping it would be for this same purpose. As a stress relief, to watch his worries flow away in time; like some form of therapy.

“What?”

“Why’d you start smoking?” you repeated, locking eyes with him in a show of strength, like you weren’t scared of what he thought anymore, “you said you hated it.”

“I do,” he said softly, whispering it almost and toying with a string on his sleeve. His arm was propped up on the bathtub ledge, sheltering the small ball in a large hand made to protect. The sleeves on his jean jacket were too short, showing the cuffs of his long sleeve under, though they were also too wide on his thin bones.

Tugging at the string for him, removing it from the shirt easily, you pressed, “then why?”

The look he gave you was somewhat sour, like he wanted to show he could do it all by himself. Yet, rubbing at the spot and letting his arm hang, he turned his gaze from you again. The ball dropped, rolling to your feet as he spoke, words sounding like static.

“Because I needed something to do, I guess.”

Snorting, you gave his shoulder a flick. “That’s stupid and you know it.”

“Yeah, alright y/n, don’t act like you’re any better,” he spat, condescending and sour, like he was letting go of everything he wanted to say. His eyes narrowed and his mouth curled into an ugly sneer, “you’re using that poor guy as a rebound because you need something to do.”

“Don’t act like you know anything about me and Hwi,” you rebutted, eyes coming to match his though you were sure your words didn’t hit as hard.

“Alright,” he snorted, seemingly dismissing you as he waved towards your phone, “go and answer his text then.”

“You know, you’re a real prick,” you bit, trying to defend yourself but it didn’t work He could see right through you, looking past the chill of your voice and thinking it amusing. Everything came out bitter and held nothing but suppressed anger.

“That why you broke up with me? Been trying to figure it out.”

“Oh shut up,” you huffed, moving away from him. This elicited a scoff and the bouncing off the ball overpowered the thumping music. The only sign of the party was the pulsating on the floor and the lights that seeped through the bottom of the door.

Neither of you moved to leave, a telling sign he had more he wanted to say. The thing was that you didn’t have much to say but would think of anything just to keep him around. Chewing on your bottom lip, not wanting to leave this unresolved, you managed, “you know you didn’t do anything wrong right? It’s not your fault we broke up.”

He didn’t meet your eyes, though the pace of his ball slowed down. Then, it picked up, anger showing through the crack starting to form in the weak marble wall of the bathtub. He wasn’t going to respond, keeping his tongue behind his teeth in a way that would rile you up. He knew how much you hated having him ignore you, pushing and pushing him further until he was backed up against a cliff and forced to speak. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to go about this, but old habits die hard and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Why’d you call?”

“I told you why,” he muttered, trying to throw you off and chilling your bones. The air was frozen and dry, making it hard to swallow.

“You miss me?” you repeated, confused. You just wanted to get something out of him, anything, but he wasn’t budging. The thumping of the ball hit your ears like a tribal beat, forcing your heart to match it. The increasing speed was coupled with your anxiety, the way you bit on your lips and sweat formed on your neck.

“No.”

“I want to have a real conversation with you, Woo. I want to solve this.” You were trying so hard, trying not to lose your temper and trying not to bite into what you couldn’t handle. But it was hard and digging your nails into your palms wasn’t enough to solve this restlessness in your chest.

“Then maybe you should pick up your calls,” he whispered under his breath, harsh and curled, sounding the way smoke felt when inhaled. 

“God, okay I will just-!” Having to bite your tongue, lowering your voice from the scream that was building in your stomach, you calmed- or at least pretended to.  Softly, weakly, you breathed, “just talk to me now.

The air went still, no wind blowing through the barren bathroom. The music seemed far away, the cracking tile becoming louder and louder with each toss. Wooseok didn’t seem to care, wrist flicking with ease. He didn’t say a word, jaw clenched and muscle stretching the thin skin there. On the verge of falling into another stale argument, one that would hurt and make you regret coming, more than you already did. Breath thin and hand quivering, placing itself on the bathtub’s ring. Lips parted, breath taken, you nearly spoke and yet-

“I know about- I know I didn’t do anything wrong,” he corrected, soft and obviously holding back his tongue. Exhaling deeply, body caving in like a weight lifted off your shoulders, you let your mind run. Mouth moving quick and guilty, asking what you wanted- what had bothered you.

“Then why are you beating yourself up over it?”

“Why are you?” he asked, so simply like it wasn’t a heavy question. You hadn’t told him a thing and yet, there he was, seeing through you like you were liquid paper. In his hands, which dropped the ball and let it bounce to the tub floor, you were puddy. Yet, he was so gingerly holding you, cherishing a small moment like this and never forgetting how much he knew you.

In his eyes, you found the strength to admit to yourself everything you’d done wrong. The only difficulty was getting that past your thin lips, dried and in need of care, but he helped. He leaned closer, the divide seeming so unimportant at the moment, and lowered his face to yours. The water in your eyes formed slowly, looking at him and remembering everything that you’d done to him and regret boiling like a summer day. He didn’t dare touch you but there he was, so present and making everything else disappear, like he always did.

Eyes on him, blurred due to your tears but also crystal clear with your resolution, you whispered, “because I did something wrong.”

Your voice cracked, so weak and fragile. You felt so broken, knowing it was your guilt and regret tearing you down. Saying goodbye to someone you loved was the hardest thing to do, people would say. Yet, still loving someone and never getting closure, never being able to end anything properly- it hurt more. Every single time you saw him, you were put on your knees. He would make you beg to let go of him, and you would try but it never worked.

The look in his eyes, the way they glowed like diamonds, it conveyed the same meaning. He was just as torn. He was just as broken. Closer and closer you came, tears right at the end of your eyes but not heavy enough to fall. Your emotions weren’t enough. They’d have to be coupled with his.

As an immediate response, a silent and sudden step forward, Wooseok’s hand came to the base of your neck. So quietly, just as fragile, he spoke.

“Because I still love you.”

Managing only to say his name before his lips covered yours, you felt the streams down the sides of your cheek. Nothing else could swallow you as wholly as he did, both of you pressing into each other and trying to make up for a time lost and forgotten. You’d leaned up on your knees, him straightening in his seat, and your hands were clutching at his shirt. There was a solidified hunger, but it was softer within him when he pulled away to wipe your tears and comfort you. He shushed, trying to comfort you and massage you back into his life, and you leaned right in again.

Both of you not caring, both of you not feeling anything but the moment, you let everything rush in. Your guilt, your uncomfortability, your hatred for yourself- everything. It all came in and you let it fuel the gasoline that dripped from your eyes and caused fires in your heart. You were trying, wanting to make yourself feel guilty for ignoring the buzzing phone on the counter and but not being able to, you pulled further away. The tears fell faster, interrupting everything you wanted to say to him, and you were choked.

Apologizing, quiet and the two of you crumpling on either side of your tub, he rubbed at your cheeks. He too, was trying. He wanted to help, to bring you back and let you fall again. He wanted you to fall again and a deep, secretive and blackened part of your heart nearly pushed you over the edge. There was Hwitaek, the man who called after texting, who cared, who wanted you to see him. The man that wouldn’t let you forget him even if you tried. Tugged both ways, you were caught in the familiar web and struggled to find a way out.

“I hate this,” you sobbed, disgustingly upset with yourself. You wanted to pull away but the circles he was pushing into your skin, trying to love you in a way you didn’t know how to receive.

With shame, he murmured, “me too.” Another kiss, this so different from the last few, came over your lips. You felt like giving in but you couldn’t. Your phone stopped it’s assault on the counter but that only started your thoughts. Yes, you weren’t dating but you were indebted to him. He held your heart in ways and you couldn’t be so deludedly selfish anymore. Pulling away and distancing yourself, you got up immediately.

With your few steps back, you wiped at your eyes with your forearms. It caused red streaks across your face, irritated lines growing as you looked at this tall man, in between getting up. Your heart thumped, still matching the tribal drums of his breaking tile and you couldn’t breathe. Wooseok said your name, trying to call you back but you couldn’t.

Leaving without a word, you snatched your phone and ran out doors. Smoke filled your nose and music flooded your ears but you were empty, sobbing rivers that ran under ice. There was nothing but you and your phone and your head.

Nothing.

Act 2, Scene 3: To Me

“You okay?” Hyorin asked you from across the table. The two of you had brought your laptops and were having a working lunch, where you could both be together and ignore each other all at once. Occasionally, she would throw a pen at you and laugh or you would flip her off, but words were few and far between. Maybe this threw her off though because you two weren’t quiet together.

With slight surprised in your eyes and painted on your parted lips, you looked up from your screen and nodded. “Yeah, fine. Why?”

She shrugged, lowering her screen a bit so she could lean forward and slur, “dunno.”

The way she was looking at you through bangs that had grown into her eyes and were dipped blue was searching and understanding. Her stare was piercing, trying to see through your general, daily mask. You simply leaned forward as well after saving your document. Getting and lower and lower until both of you were resting your chin on your arms, which were folded on the table, you were both stupidly looking at each other. She popped a small smile, sticking the tip of her tongue out at you.

“How’s Kyuna?”

Eyes lighting up but body not shifting much, Hyorin’s grin grew and she exclaimed, “great! We’re doing great! I was kind of worried you wouldn’t ask.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Eyebrow arch up and hand reaching out to hers, you gave her a fixed look. Her lips were painted a deep black and her cheeks were rosy from the coming cold.

“Sometimes I get worried that you and Jisoo don’t like her is all,” she whispered, looking away from you and down at the eraser shavings against the light brown table.

Hand finally reaching her arm, you clicked your tongue but tried to lower your voice to be soothing. In rubbing small circles into her thinly covered bicep, you hummed, “Jisoo had a girlfriend before and we all liked her. This isn’t a surprise or something to be ashamed of.”

“I know,” she said, but it didn’t hold any emotion or substance. Her bottom lip flipped between her teeth and you didn’t know what to say. Searching, you managed to land on something and hoped it would give her some comfort.

“If it stands for anything, I really like Kyuna. She’s really adorable and nothing like you at first but then you talk and it’s like your minds were split in half to find each other; and I think that’s amazing. That’s what everyone wishes for- I know I do.”

“What does that mean?” she chimed, furrowing her eyebrows and raising her head a bit. Catching what you’d said, you stuttered a bit and tried to cover up the last bit but she’d caught it and was going to bother you about it.

“Nothing,” you muttered, pulling away and straightening in your seat. Looking at you skeptically, Hyorin rising as well, she stuck a finger out at you. Her eyes were narrowed, as were her lips, and she looked less than impressed. Just as she opened her mouth, her phone rang loudly and a few of the quiet workers in the small diner turned to look at her.

Quickly shushing it up, cheeks creeping with blush from the attention, she cursed. Yet, there was her skeptical look again and she huffed, “I would press but we don’t have enough time. I have to pick up my stupid brother.”

“Did he forget his keys again?” you asked, hoping to be amused as she hopped off her high chair and packed her books away.

“Yeah he ‘lost them’.” She used air quotation marks, absolutely resentful and begrudgingly clasping her bag together. As she slipped her laptop into its case she muttered, ‘lost them, my ass’, under her breath and you cracked a smile.

“Pick him up from high school while blasting ridiculous music?” The suggestion was followed with a laugh as she came to give you a hug. While she pulled away, she patted your shoulder and gave you a smug look.

“Please, y/n. I do that already. It’s his punishment for being born in my family.”

“Ah,” you drew out, giving her a small chuckle before waving goodbye. As she ran out the door with a wide smile and big wave, she called out, “text me!”

You didn’t bother responding, knowing she wouldn’t hear it anyways but you nodded nonetheless. Turning back to your books and laptop, you bit on your lip and exhaled slowly. You didn’t even want to continue working, mind preoccupied with the party and what you’d done. You didn’t tell anyone and maybe that was why it ate at you so hard. It hurt to realize how little you thought of Hwi and you knew it was terrible of you but fixing it was hard and you didn’t know what you wanted. Picking at your nails before picking up your phone, you mulled over it.

In a heartbeat though, Hwi was called and you’d scheduled to meet him. He sounded cool over the phone, wanting to talk to you but also wanting to stand his ground. You felt it in his simplistic ‘okay’ and every other word that was cut short. He didn’t try to extend the conversation. He didn’t try to do anything but said he’d be there-

And sure enough, in a few hours after you’d gone home, redressed, and put your makeup on again, you had met for ice cream in the fall theme park your city put up every year. Starting at the entrance, you walked in time with each other and spoke about very small, meaningless events.

“How was work?” you asked, not really looking at him but rather focusing on the melting of your ice cream. It was stuck in a cup and you turned it around and around, lips pouted.

“Tiring. I could use a nap, or the weekend, or a vacation.” He paused between the suggestions, being light in his jokes but his voice was thick. You pushed a smile for him and let the ball fall in his court, not knowing what else to ask about. Hwi decided a less cordial route though.

“What happened at the party?” He too was looking at his melting ice cream, stuck in that cup and swirling around slowly. He looked just like you, lips pushed out and eyebrows arch up, features cold. Not knowing what to say, you bit on your lip and watched his brown leather shoes, pointed at the end with designs down the side, crunch down dead leaves on the ground.

Colours surrounded you, spilling down from trees like waterfalls and lying in peoples hair or coats. There were bright red and pale oranges, yellow drifting and mixing with the fading sunlight. You caught a falling leaf, letting it crumple in your hand and not looking a Hwi, scared of what he’d say.

“I fucked up,” you admitted, quiet and guilty. He simply hummed, asking you how indirectly. This you didn’t answer truthfully, hating the half lie as you said it.

“I met my ex and we talked and I ignored your calls. I haven’t seen you since and that’s my fault. We argued and I didn’t know how to face you.”

“You just… talked?” There was something sharp about it, like he was prodding you for something more. You didn’t dare bring your fingers to your lips where you could feel Wooseok against them like a fire. Nodding, not trusting your voice, you searched for his eyes. He didn’t give you the pleasure.

After a pause, a nod from him coming slow and steady, he tossed his ice cream in the garbage. Grasping yours too, seeing the crumpled leaf in it, he threw it out too and you followed him. The two of you were silent, walking to and fro before resting at a bench that overlooked the saturated setting sun and the small games that were stationed all around the lower part of the city from the theme park. You were seated not far apart though the space between your thighs did not go unnoticed.

Hands clasping his own, he started, very strongly and quietly, “I’m not trying to hold you down.”

“I know,” you whispered, quiet and looking at your feet. Your lip was being ripped apart anxiously, gnawed at by your teeth.

“I do like you. That hasn’t changed and I doubt it will any time soon,” he continued, taking a thin breath and extending his gaze forward to the scene before him, “but we need to be grown ups here. We can’t keep walking around like chickens with no heads.”

“I know,” you repeated. You wrung your hands out, twisting them around each other much too nervously. You had a choice and you weren’t sure if what you were going to say would make the right one. Though, you figured that if it was for him, you’d be able to do it. It would be right.

“What do you want then?” The question was plain and forced your eyes to his. The only thing that had moved was his head, facing you and staring. He was bearing down into your eyes, searching for the answer he wanted. You supposed he knew it wasn’t going to come even before you opened your mouth, looking resigned and disappointed long before you made a move.

Hand slipping into his, you squeezed comfortably, hoping his limp fingers would respond. They gave no sign, the only glimmer of recognition that you even touched him showing when the muscle above his jaw twitched. The hold was less so for him, which he might have known.

“I know you’ll hate me for this, but I just need the time,” you started, so repetitive and annoyingly unimaginative. You saw the sigh forming in his throat and quickly continued, not wanting to let him speak until you’d finished. “However, I don’t want to drag you along. You want commitment now and I can’t give that to you.

“I’ve never been really serious with anyone except for one person and I fucked up when that happened. Really bad. I hurt him and I don’t want to hurt you; but I’m doing it anyways by leading you on like this. There’s no promise of a future with me now and I keep lying like there is. I can’t do that anymore. Not- not to you.”

He paused, hand softening into yours. You felt his knee bump with yours before he pulled it away. Tongue darting out, he licked his slightly parted lips and slowly worked the words, “so then?”

Your voice came as a stutter, mind reeling on your words and trying to make them fit properly together. Hoping to be kind, you came closer and softened your voice. “I think we should end whatever we were doing- whatever mess this was because it’s not healthy for either of us now. Maybe we can come back to each other after time, after we’ve grown, but this isn’t working now. And we have to come to terms with that.”

“And you call me analytical,” Hwi scoffed, trying to make a joke. His cheeks tried to crumple into his usual smile but they were stiff and it looked unnatural. His eyes were downcast, at your hands and he stared there for a while, blinking.

The silence was coupled with rustling leaves and distant chatter. Everything was alive below you and the trees above you wilted. There was no sun that offered any warmth, though its rays were on your back. The only breath of holiness was the grail beside you, which you held gingerly. You felt like an apostle, about to betray someone who had given you so much. There you were, drinking from a chalice that came from someone above you in all respects of morality and love. Yet, he was there, holding you just the same, pressing his knee to yours and raising his eyes. He was a gorgeous man, filled with a light that held nothing but goodness and it radiated through his skin.

“What if we find someone before we come back to each other?” he asked, so considerate and simple. He seemed to be asking more for you than himself, holding onto a string you’d laid out by accident.

Your thumb stroked his skin softly, quietly murmuring, “then we’ve found someone else.”

He accepted this easily, humming lowly before turning forwards again. He tugged you a bit closer and you complied, resting your head on his shoulder. The light faded, touching the last bits of buildings and trees. It set on you like closing curtains but you sat there with him, understanding why he needed this. It was a final moment of peace and you were no one to deny him of it.

Act 3, Scene 4: Afterglow

Feelings can change like seasons and you were subject to that shift all the time. Sometimes, you found yourself hopelessly in love with people, food, or an activity and then a week will pass and your feelings would pass as well. You were as unsettled as a storm, floating and floating on. The only problem would be knowing when you would stir up again in the same place. Storms don’t travel far for long.

“I’m not trying to hold you down.”

Hwitaek’s words rang like chimes in your ears. You would find yourself thinking about how he said it, looking at you from the side of his eyes. He was so careful and calculated, knowing exactly what it was that would make you feel safe and pull you into him. It was like he held a reel and was slowly trying to bring you closer and closer. Though, he wouldn’t hurt you. You’d just be on display, an aquarium fish forced into a small hole for the rest of your life.

Chewing on this thought, you took your time giving him a confirmation. His request was less so an ultimatum and more so an offer. He just wanted commitment and the question was how could you give that to him? Your whole body and life was created off of not knowing how to make decisions or making the wrong ones when you did. You didn’t want to make mistakes. You assumed he knew this when he promised he wouldn’t press anymore. Though, he did say he was there if you wanted him to be. Knowing it wouldn’t be forever, you still pulled your time, hoping to avoid making a decision unless you needed to.

The tension building in your chest was enough to stretch your muscles tightly under taute skin. Your hands felt dry and your tongue stuck to your teeth and cheeks. Sitting in the chair, which glued itself to you and formed tightly around your hips started to make your body ache. The headache at the base of your head was starting to throb and thinking about a sweet man, who’d promised his efforts to you, was making it radiate. Removing your hands from the hot rising cup of coffee in front of you, you groaned and placed your fingers at your temples. Head facing down, you massaged them lightly and hoped to rid yourself of this heavy resting in your bones.

Despite it being midday, the day held no warmth and the sun filtering through the large, clear windows of the shop added no heat. Your only solace in this blue building were the deep brown chairs and tables with white linings and cushions. They were relatively comfy and inviting and kept your nerves at bay despite the cinching of your hips. Shifting around, you reverted your eyes to the yellow grayness outside and looked for a sign of someone you knew.

You wouldn’t say you were excited but you weren’t unhappy. Wanting to see Wooseok wasn’t a sin, you decided, knowing you’d be taking this meeting as a way of throwing yourself one way or the other. In one sense, it would’ve been the worst thing you could’ve ever done. One good day did not constitute to hope. In another, it showed growth and if you could have a comfortable day with him, you could convince yourself to come back to him.

Wooseok’s large figure, tall and thin with shoulders that matched the sea, appeared and created a darkened silhouette on the glass. Hand over his eyes, he spotted you and waved. The littlest smile came on your lips, raising your hand in response and he awkwardly rushed in. Banging his arm on the way in, he inhaled deeply and tried to hold in his curse. Though, your budding chuckle at it was enough to help him put on a brave face and he came over quickly. Long jacket billowing, he starting unbuttoning the middle of it and spoke as he did so. His cheeks were a bright red.

“It’s so fucking cold,” he complained, light and comfortable, “I fully walked outside in just a hoodie at first.”

“Where’d it go?” you asked, a thick peppered grey pullover covering his midsection. You didn’t know how but you were already leaning forward, hands cupping your cup protectively but eyes on him. In fact, all eyes were on him, jet black hair long and curled outwards. The underside was shorter but growing out well and a piece of you wanted to grab a lock and run it through your fingers.

Skin clear and stretching over his slightly amused smile, he shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it. I wanted to dress up, I guess.”

“Well, you look good,” you mused, meaning it wholeheartedly. The redness in his cheeks didn’t fade and he looked down at your hands before coming back to your eyes.

“I know.”

In this moment, a woman came to ask if he wanted a drink, to which he said a tea and she retreated. He thanked her so nicely, so kindly looking at her and smiling without a care in the world. However grown up he wanted to seem, however old he thought he’d become, he was still so childish. A small compliment caused his grin to grow so far and blush to creep onto his cheeks like a quiet mist over mountains. It floated across his nose, the bud of his nose bright and you reached out to touch it quickly. Yet, he grasped your finger and you tried again with your free hand. But there he was again, and again, no matter how hard your tried to break free, he held your hands with a loose feel.

A small laugh bubbled up and he tried to protest, saying you always did this whenever he was cold, eyes glowing. He looked so wonderfully at peace, happy and whole, and you couldn’t take your eyes from him. How could you pretend he didn’t hold the key to your heart and that he hadn’t pressed it into your soul to be swallowed until he returned. He was reaching back in, trying to reach around and grasp it. You saw it in how he held you and gazed at you, how reluctant he was to let go of you until you complained about not being able to drink cold coffee.

“Fine,” he grumbled, quiet but watching you. There was a playfulness in his body and you were drawn to it like a moth to light. He held his candle right in front of you, alluring and soft, but you’d been here before. Your wings were singed with ash covering them. You struggled to fly and yet, there you were, coming right back to what hurt you- what you had hurt. Arguably, you shouldn’t have been there, claiming you were scared. It made no sense yet, there you were stupidly falling into your own trap because you couldn’t admit you had to change before anything could happen.

Lips parted, Wooseok spoke. “Why’d you call me here, y/n?”

You gave him a thin look, pressing your lips together and trying to place words in the right order. As you did so, tapping your foot incessantly, you shrugged. It stilled the air, making it uncomfortable and thick. With a quivering start, you managed to ask what you wanted to ask, question slipping out like sludge.

“What are we doing, Wooseok?”

“What do you mean?” He placed his question pointedly, beating around the conversation you were trying to spark up and you didn’t necessarily appreciate it. Saying his name, you tried to reason with him but he kept on like he didn’t know.

Temper running on a fuse, you led with, “you call me often. We talk often. We’ve met up once or twice. We’ve been together. You touch me like we’re still together. What do you want?”

His cheek twitched, mouth pulling in his bottom lip. Your knees touched under the table, his leg shifting forward. It was almost as if he was trying to throw you off, make your heart race to make you forget about this but you couldn’t let it down. Today was a decisive factor for everything- for Wooseok, for yourself. You had to try to get answers, to be heard, to come to conclusions. You didn’t want to be indecisive anymore. You wanted to lead your life with pride but now, you were confused. Swimming in murky waters. You couldn’t have this anymore or you’d both choke and you knew it much too well.

“You know what I want,” he murmured quietly, eyes flipping from yours to his drink. They rested there, uneasy and weakened, fingers fidgeting around the cup.

“Say it so I’m not here, trying to figure out what you want, stupidly coming to conclusions.” It was a demand but necessary and somehow, you found yourself feeling like Hwitaek. Irritated but dedicated, the realization struck you annoyingly. Without knowing it, that might have been how you knew your answer to the question he’d asked.

“I want to be with you. Are you happy? Is that explicit enough for you?”

Why he was being so sharp was above you, his forked tongue a common occurrence. He was moody, flipping between completely fine to upset without a sign. While you didn’t like dealing with it, you exhaled deeply and fixed him with what you hoped resembled a promising look.

“Me too,” you confirmed, though the words you said next were so finite that they seemed written in blood, “but we can’t.”

He blinked, not understanding and lips forming the question. You didn’t know how or why you felt you couldn’t, the idea so beautiful and so terrible. It held your heart in such terror and a slow, deep clank in your mind turned the wheel. The cage came down from above, slowly and sweetly, trying to make music with its discordant creaks. You wanted to give yourself over to him but it was difficult when you felt like hands were coming back around your throat.

It was a lack of freedom that ripped you from all people. From Hyorin, from your parents, from Jisoo, from Hwitaek, and from Wooseok. Especially from Wooseok. There was something about feeling tied down, like you had nowhere to go but him. Overbearing and clingy, his hands always on your body or cupping your heart, you didn’t know how to breathe. There was a heaviness and it felt entrapping, like you had no way out but through. Through hurt though, Stockholm syndrome slipping through your veins and making you love him. No matter how hard you tried to wash it away, hoping time would help, it didn’t. You just obsessed. You loved him more, as did he.

Yet, having him reciprocate it was strangling too. When it was just you, you could press it down. You could ignore your problems. You could pretend to move on. But, there he was in front of you, trying to understand why he couldn’t have all of you and you didn’t know what to say. How could you tell him you hated it when he was near but craved him when he was far?

“I’m scared,” you admitted, omitting the truth that would hurt him. He stared at you, incredulous and hiding.

“Do you think I’m not?”

“I didn’t say that,” you tried to reason, voice soft and kind, trying to console him. He didn’t take the bait, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

“No, why would you care? You’re so self-involved, y/n. I tell you I still love you and you run away from me. I tell you I want to be with you and you say you’re scared. It’s stupid. Why is it always you, you, you? You can never just once think of me, can you?” He looked at you, upset and pouting and very quickly speaking. As he did so, he leaned in and repeated, exaggerated, “can you?”

“I can’t just ignore myself,” you rebutted, face following his formation. On the offence, he scoffed and nodded.

“Right,” he drew out, smiling sarcastically with an unhappy poison off his lips, “and I’m just supposed to come here and let you throw me around like a chew toy?”

“I never do that!” Raising your voice the slightest bit, you protested. The waiter coming to your table did a quiet u-turn, going back to her station and waiting there. Wooseok whispered for you to keep your voice down but being faced with reality was hurtful and made you throw your walls up.

“I don’t care who hears us! You’re wrong! I don’t try to chew you up and spit you out, I’ve never wanted to throw you around!”

“But you do anyways,” he grumbled, unimpressed and drawing away from you. The space between you two was filled with palpable tension and you chewed on your lip. You didn’t know what to say, how to console him. You’d held back, not wanting to hurt him, yet he said one thing and it was enough to rile you up.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, bringing your voice down. Hands shaking, you tried much too hard to control yourself and stopped the tapping of your feet. He paused, not doing a thing before his whole body became movement.

“Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything. Just forget it.”

He was gathering his things, hands slipping through his jacket pocket. Ahead of you, he placed money on the table and got up, paying for both of your drinks. You didn’t bother checking the amount, running after him to catch up as he left the shop. People’s eyes were on you, watching what you were going to do next. Woo turned the collar of his jacket up to hide some of his face and he clenched his jaw. He was uncomfortable and it showed in the way he tugged his hand out of yours when you tried to grasp it.

The wind nipped at your skin and you watched it flow through his hair. There was a steady stream of people filing past and between you two on the street, like you were just pillars staring at each other. He didn't break eye contact and didn’t try.

Your lips jutted out and you breathed unsteady. “Why are you running away?”

“You don’t like it, do you?” His question came quick, upset and filled with venom. You came closer, hands against his chest ready to push him but you didn’t- you couldn’t. It would’ve been against every fibre in your heart so you sat there, staring at him like an idiot.

“You drive me crazy,” you muttered, not knowing what else to say. Tears filled the corners of your eyes slowly and he would’ve moved away if it wasn’t for them. He didn’t know what to say and brought his hands to cup yours. The fire you were building died down, smouldering over blackened logs. Smoke seeped into your lungs, hissing over the earth and filling your head. Nothing seemed straight, not even for him. His body held you steady and he looked at you with walls cracked.

“I don’t care what we are,” he started, quiet and compromising, “but I want to be with you. I want to argue with you in the middle of the street. I want to hold your hand. I want to do this.”

His face inched closer with every word, toes lifting you until your lips met. It was soft and heavy, trying to convey idiotic feelings with no order to them. But you felt alive in it, holding onto him like he held everything in his body. He was a universe, and you were just a constellation. But he adorned you with more light than ever before and you glowed in his hands which led you home.