skye

Kwon Soonyoung

“Let Me Hear You Say” by @cherrycheolliesc

Fem!reader || YouTuber au, friends to enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted situation turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung. as things grow sour between them, their group gets tired of it and tries to fix things.

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“The Roomie” by @zo-byeol

Fem!reader || roommates au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

Jeon Wonwoo

“To My Youth” by @viastro

Fem!reader || love alarm inspired au, slice of life, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

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“Back To You” by @seventeensmaus

Fem!reader || brother's best friend, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n and mingyu are twins. they are pretty much inseparable along with their childhood friend seungcheol. the three live together in an apartment. y/n has never met mingyu’s friends. that is until one day she finally does and sees someone from her past.

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“Clueless” by @hanniedream

Coworker au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Wonwoo and you are were both oblivious idiots.

Lee Seokmin

“Sunshine and Sunflowers” by @shuastruck

Fem!reader || college au, sort of childhood friends to lovers, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.

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“We Have Chemistry” by @seungcy

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a biology major was difficult enough along with juggling an internship at a hospital. So how about adding some cute guys to your internship to spice it up a bit? Can you balance it out?

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“What Is Love?” by @cupidhaos

High school au, cupid au, past life au, fantasy, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else

Chwe Hansol

“Two Minus One” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || uni/recent college grads au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What’s a better way to find love in the modern day than through dating apps? Eight months after his breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Vernon is finally ready for the dating scene once more - or so he thought. Finding the new game of love more challenging than he remembered, he reaches out to you, Chan’s best friend and legendary wing woman, for help.

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“Lie Again” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, soulmate au, fluff, humour, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

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“花樣年華 : HYYH : Golden Years” by @sw1mmingfoolz

Fem!reader || college au, eventual roommates, angst, fluff, slowburn || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when vernon and y/n realise their partners are cheating with each other, they strike up an unlikely friendship trying to figure out how it all began.

Unspecified Endgame

“Feverish Lips” by @sunlightwoo

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

⤷“Louder Than Bombs” (Part 2 of feverish lips)

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the past semester of your senior year was hectic after the winter ball, its events making it harder for you to get back into your old routine. a rollercoaster that you finally managed to get off of for a blink of an eye, when suddenly you’re strapped on once more. you think to yourself that maybe you’ll make it to graduation in May; maybe alive. 

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“Here Comes The Sun” by @seokgyuu

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, angst, comedy, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what's supposed to be just another year of fun and games at one of south korea's top universities turns into a rollercoaster of emotions for you. stuck between best friends and former crushes, you try to find love, friends and most importantly yourself.

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“A Poem A Day” by @wooahaeproductions

Gn!reader || modern day cyrano!, fluff, romance, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Mingyu literally falls head over heels for someone, he has no idea what to do. What happens when he gets help (and a little meddling) from his friends? it definitely won’t be boring, that’s for sure.

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“Wildest Dreams” by @viastro

Gn!reader || Fake dating au, best friends to lovers, fluff, humour || W.C: 6.8k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･it’s your last year of school forever, and you’re about to meet the most horrifying chapter of life: the real world. now worrying about your life’s lack of spontaneity, you decide to get married to your best friend in vegas for 24 hours.

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“Stolen Entries” by @bitchlessdino

Fem!reader || stalking au, thriller, smut || W.C: 10k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Diary entries of a man in love. Joshua knew he loved you the moment he laid his eyes on you and had to have you, even if it meant enduring the echoes of every intimate detail of every sexual encounter you’d had before him. But he knew you were worth the wait. He was worth the wait.

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“Vanilla” by @milfgyuu

Fem!reader || Friends to lovers, smut || W.C: 11.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

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“Late Night Confessions” by @multiland

Fem!reader || friends to lovers, fluff, smut || W.C: 12k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?

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“The Royal Gambit” by @idyllic-ghost

Fem!reader || royalty au, angst, fluff, smut, romance || W.C: 17.7k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Marriage should be a beautiful union between two lovers, but you did not love Prince Hong and he clearly did not love you. Everything you did, you did for your kingdoms - except when you started meeting him in quiet corners of the castle to take out your frustrations on each other. However, would this relationship be enough to hold together a marriage which your countries depended on?

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“Curse the Stars” by @shuadotcom

Afab!reader || 70s hollywood au, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, fluff, smut, little angst || W.C: 8.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Meeting someone at the disco to take home for the night is customary for you, especially in your line of work. But meeting this man on this night at this disco feels more like fate as Joshua becomes much more than just your routine one night stand.

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“Not According To Plan” by @the-boy-meets-evil

Fem!reader || fake dating au, strangers to friends to ??, fluff, slight angst, smut || W.C: ~22.1k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his. what could possibly go wrong?

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“Tell Me That You Love Me” by @wheeboo

Gn!reader || kdrama romance-esque, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, mild angst, slowburn || Parts: 2 || Total W.C: 37k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in which you and joshua are simply different in more ways than one, yet only seem to find a common ground in struggling to chase your dreams. so why does life keep throwing you two at each other, despite your different worlds, and why does it feel so terrifyingly right?

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“Lover Boy” by @starlightxsvt

Fem!reader || regency au, romance, historical, drama, slowburn, angst || W.C: 8.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pining for someone like him is as scandalous as it can be but the heart wants what it wants and your heart wants him.

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“Skin” by @bratzkoo

Fem!reader || uni au, angst, fluff || W.C: 7.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’re doing great with your boyfriend of 5 months but when his ex drops a podcast talking about their past relationship and indirectly mentions you, your relationship takes on challenges you don’t know if you can handle.

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“Operation: Laundry Love” by @bratzkoo

Fem!reader || love at first sight, fluff || W.C: 9.1k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Joshua Hong falls in love at first sight with you at a laundromat and schemes his way into making you like him back.

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“Just Like That” by @kwanisms

Fem!reader || demon au, supernatural, angst, one-sided pining, smut, religious themes || W.C: 16k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fantasizing about her handsome and sweet coworker has some unintended consequences for Y/N when an incubus shows up in her home after unintentionally summoning him with what she thought was just gibberish.

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“Lies And Butterflies” by @bluehoodiewoozi

Fem!reader || fake dating au, mostly fluff || W.C: 19.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Your roommate begged you to pretend to date him while his mom is in town for the month. The little crush you’ve had on him will either become your best friend or worst obstacle on this quest.

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“Calendar Killer” by @miabebe

Afab!reader || psych thriller, smut, supernatural elements || W.C: 14k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't care whether it was the red of love and the red of blood?

Six years. It’s been six years since you last saw each other, and those are the opening words he decides to go with. 

You’re torn between smacking him upside on the head and strangling him. Maybe both, you muse, as you survey the ways he’s changed over time. 

His hair is blonde now. His once-pale skin is a little more tan. And— as much as you loathe to admit it— he looks more fit. You can vaguely make out the muscles straining underneath his casual wear.

Dancer’s build, you begrudgingly concede.

When Soonyoung calls you out in a bid to snap you out of your daydream, you physically flinch. Your name still rolls right off his tongue like honey. You don’t have the right to call me that, a small, bitter voice says in the back of your mind. You don’t have the right to talk to me at all. 

“Hellooo,” he sing-songs, waving one of his palms inches away from your face. “Did you have a stroke or something?” 

That prompts you to speak.

After all that time, your first words to Soonyoung in six years are cold and curt: “Get out.” 

A corner of Soonyoung’s mouth twitches upward. The infuriating bastard. He probably anticipated a reaction like this from you. 

He straightens until he can shove his hands into the pockets of his winter coat. “I don’t see any signs that say I’m not allowed to be here,” he says. “Did I miss it?” 

He makes a whole show of looking around your family’s restaurant. A part of you is grateful that you’re the only one on today’s shift; your parents would’ve undoubtedly had over-the-top reactions to Soonyoung’s sudden reappearance. It’s only through years of conditioning that you’ve learned to keep your reactions under control, even when the world throws you curveballs such as these. 

Your expression is perfectly blank as you dryly note, “There’s a sign out on the front, actually.” 

“Oh? Really?” 

“Yeah. No strays allowed.” 

Soonyoung shakes his head. “Brutal,” he says, but there’s still that hint of a smile on his face.  

If you strained your ears, you might hear the trace of affection in his tone. The thought of it— of Soonyoung holding any sort of fondness for you— makes you want to scream. 

You manage to tamp that urge in favor of jerking your head towards the front door of the restaurant. “Out,” you repeat, your gaze briefly flickering to the CCTV in the corner of the store. 

Your father would probably kill you if he found out you were turning someone away. A supposed family friend, at that. But this wasn’t just a customer, and you weren’t sure if you could still call Soonyoung a friend, and it’s been six years, damn it.

“Is that any way to treat a customer?” Soonyoung goads.

“You’re not a customer.” 

“You haven’t given me the chance to be.” 

“That’s because you’re not welcome here.” 

“It’s pretty bad for business that—” 

That wasn’t going to fly. You weren’t about to take business advice from Kwon Soonyoung of all people. 

One minute, you’re behind the counter with your hands clenched into fists. The next, you’ve closed the space between you and Soonyoung. He falters as you approach, looking almost like he’s holding his breath. 

It’s not a slap that greets him. Most definitely not a hug, either. 

Instead, one of your hands dart out until you’ve got a firm grip on his ear.

Soonyoung is still taller than you, but he folds over at your rough tug. “Ow, ow, ow!” he screeches, his own hands flying out of his pockets in a futile attempt to either push you off or shield himself. 

In his split second of indecision, you manage to haul him back over to the entrance. Because you had been manning the fort, you hadn’t even noticed that it had started to snow. The first of the year. 

You don’t have the time to appreciate it. Your focus is entirely on channeling your energy to shove Soonyoung out of the restaurant. He stumbles out on the sidewalk where he rubs his offended ear with a scandalized expression on his face.

A lesser man might have snapped back, might have demanded an explanation for being manhandled so shamelessly. To your sheer annoyance, Soonyoung only laughs. 

It’s a full-bodied sound, one that practically bounces off the street. He laughs, and he laughs, and he laughs, clutching at his stomach like this is the funniest thing in the world. 

Remember how, earlier, you thought you might scream? Now, you truly almost do. Because the years have passed— but Soonyoung still laughs exactly the same. 

You don’t stick around to find out if you do end up yelling. Instead, you march right back into the restaurant with your chin jut up in a show of confidence. You can hear him trying to choke out words between his laughing fit, something akin to, “Hey, wait—,” but you’re not about to hear him out. 

Not today, not ever. 

It’s the most satisfying feeling in the world, getting to slam the door in his face. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“I got hungry.”

--

“ — tried to give me business advice! Me, business advice!” 

You punctuate your exclamation with a slap to your office table. Jihoon and Wonwoo are a little too familiar with your fits of passion to be surprised; Wonwoo barely looks up from his round of Block Blast, while Jihoon only shakes his head. 

“Sounds like something he would do,” Jihoon offers empathetically.

You lean back into your chair, your expression contorted into one of utter frustration. The three of you rarely meet in your office, but you had called a DEFCON 1 situation in light of recent events. Jihoon and Wonwoo lounged leisurely in front of you as you ranted your heart away for the past thirty or so minutes. 

“Who does he think he is?” you seethe. “Showing up here unannounced!” 

Wonwoo pipes up. “It wasn’t unannounced.”

Jihoon silences Wonwoo with a warning glare. You can only glance between the two boys before Jihoon heaves out a sigh and admits, “We knew that he was coming back to visit.” 

The look of betrayal on your face must be clear as day, because Wonwoo guiltily pauses his game to flash you a sheepish grin. “We met up with him— yesterday, was it?” 

Yesterday. “And you didn’t tell me?!” Your voice is a little shrill and a whole lot incredulous.

Ever the pragmatic one, Jihoon quips, “You’ve always said that you want nothing to do with him. I presumed that involved knowing whether or not he was coming home.”

Damn it. Jihoon got you there. 

You’re not sure what you would’ve even done, really, if you’d been given a heads up. Would you have boarded up the doors to your home? Would you have sought him out yourself in a prideful bid to maintain some twisted sort of upper hand? 

You’re still mulling it over when Wonwoo delicately says, “Look at the bright side. You probably won’t run into him again.”

Jihoon attempts to distract you by getting you to talk about your most recent client— a stubborn chicken shop significantly behind on mortgage payments. You give in, if only because you want so very badly to believe in Wonwoo’s words. 

--

You should’ve known better, really, because of course your friends would lie to you. 

That’s the only thought on your mind as you keep your eyes firmly ahead and away from the smirking blonde in your peripheral vision. Already, you’re contemplating the bodily harm you’ll cause Jihoon and Wonwoo for leaving out this vital piece of information. 

But you can’t be wrathful. Not in front of the kids. 

The gaggle of twenty-something elementary students sit cross-legged on the floor, their gazes all trained on the newcomer. They’re whispering excitedly among themselves, so much so that Teacher Kang has to clap more than thrice to recapture their attention. 

“Now, everyone,” Teacher Kang announces. “Do you remember what I said about having a very special guest for today?” 

A high-pitched chorus of “Yes, Teacher Kang,” resounds throughout the auditorium. 

“Very good. Can we please give a warm welcome to Teacher Kang’s friend, Soonyoung?” 

Soonyoung makes his way to the front of the gaggle with an easy grin and a relaxed gait, like he belongs here. And maybe a part of him does. This was his turf once, too. 

“‘Soonyoung’ is a bit long, isn’t it?” he says, speaking to both Teacher Kang and the kids in front of them. It’s a small grace that he isn’t calling you out just yet, though you wouldn’t put him past it. 

“Everybody!” Soonyoung proclaims. There’s a bit of a flourish in how he moves, how he looks down at the awe-stricken kids with a bright, wide smile. He puts up one hand to his face and bends his fingers in an imitation of a paw. “You can call me Hoshi!”

The kids echo it back to him— “Teacher Hoshi!” “Hello, Mr. Hoshi!” “What’s a Hoshi?”— while Teacher Kang only smiles fondly. For your part, you keep your expression perfectly controlled, even though you’re telepathically trying to get Soonyoung to combust. 

It’s one thing for him to waltz back into your life like it’s nothing. It’s another thing for him to come around and introduce himself with the pet name you used to have for him. 

Suddenly, you’re teenagers again, visiting the zoo on a field trip. The two of you had tried so hard to hide from your chaperones that you were holding hands in the pockets of your winter coats. In hindsight, it had been the most obvious thing in the world. 

Soonyoung had excitedly pointed out the Bengal tigers lounging in their enclosure, and you joked about how similar he looked to them. 호랑이의 시선. Horangi-ui siseon, the tiger’s gaze. 

Soon after, you took to calling him Hoshi when he was on stage, when the two of you were arguing over something petty, when you wanted to be affectionate. Hoshi, let’s get ice cream today. Hoshi, take me to the library. Hoshi, I love you!

Something that was once yours alone was now everybody else’s, too. It bothers you more than you care to admit. 

You’re so caught up in reminiscing that you almost miss Teacher Kang saying, “Soonyoung— er, Hoshi— is going to help us with the Christmas showcase. He’s a very popular dancer in Seoul, so we’re happy to have him here.” 

The betrayal that rises up within you is sharp albeit short-lived. Teacher Kang didn’t owe you a warning the same way that, say, Jihoon or Wonwoo might’ve. But still. Any indication at all would have been nice. 

One of the younger students— an absolute sweetheart by the name of Iseul— tugs at your pant leg. You lean down so she can cup her little hand over your ear. 

“Do you know Mr. Hoshi?” she whispers conspiratorially. 

How fitting, for a five-year-old to pose the million-won question. It’s a loaded gun of a query even though there’s technically no right or wrong answer. 

Of course you knew ‘Mr. Hoshi’. Your mothers were best friends. The two of you were in the same classes. You dated him throughout high school. You knew him well, like the back of your hand. 

That was before he got up and left without so much of a glance over his shoulder, though. 

You give Iseul a tight-lipped smile. “I knew him once,” you answer. It’s not quite the truth, but it will have to do for now. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“Took a wrong turn and ended up here.” 

--

“Are you going to ignore me the whole time, or…?” 

You answer Soonyoung’s prodding by ignoring him. 

The past week has been largely uneventful, sans Soonyoung’s occasional effort to poke his nose into your business. He at least had the decency to not show up at your family’s restaurant again, and whether or not he knows of your office is yet to be seen. 

Your interactions with him have been largely limited to the one-hour a day that you’ve dedicated to Yangjeong Elementary School. 

Yangjeong was yet another thing that the two of you shared. You were once a pig-tailed menace who outran all the boys on the playground, and Soonyoung was your snot-nosed partner-in-crime. 

Planning Yangjeong’s Christmas showcase has been your yearly commitment for as long as you can remember. Even when you were off at college, you had made it a point to set aside time for it. Volunteers have come and gone throughout the past, though this year’s volunteer was undeniably one of the more annoying ones. 

“You’re going to have to talk to me eventually, you know.” Soonyoung practically flops himself onto the desk in front of you, the sudden weight of him making the table creak. As you turn your face away, you catch sight of the pout beginning to form on his lips. 

You almost snipe at him, something along the lines of stop that or grow up or that doesn’t work on me anymore. You hold your tongue, in favor of wordlessly getting up to move to a different chair.

Soonyoung is right. You will have to talk to him soon enough.

But as you sit as far away from him as possible, readying yourself for the day ahead, you can at least decide that today will not be that day. 

Preparations for the showcase involve discussing the program with the teachers and readying the students for their performances. It’s never anything spectacular— just your run-of-the-mill rotation of tone-deaf singing and middling dances— but the town’s overzealous parents are always more than happy to indulge the show. 

Today, you and Soonyoung are set to meet with Teacher Kang to discuss the showcase’s overarching theme. 

The sixty-something-year-old woman had been your teacher as well, and so it’s understandable why she’s eyeing the pair of you with poorly concealed amusement. There’s a palpable tension between you and Soonyoung, though a significant majority of the awkwardness is likely from your end. 

“Have the two of you not kept in touch?” Teacher Kang asks as she sets down two mugs— coffee for you, hot chocolate for Soonyoung. 

“No,” the two of you say simultaneously. 

Soonyoung steals an all-too obvious glance. You keep your eyes on the coffee in front of you. 

Teacher Kang— bless her heart— decides not to push it. She settles in her own seat, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea. 

“The principal wants all the kids to do a number. Nothing too flashy, but something that will give everyone a chance to be on stage.” The elderly teacher sips at her drink before going on. “That’s why I called you in, Soonyoung.” 

“I’m the reinforcements,” he jokes. 

Teacher Kang gives a short laugh in response. “Something like that.” 

She turns to you, then, with that same motherly simper that you’ve never been able to say ‘no’ to. You wonder if she’s doing this on purpose— pulling all the stops to get you to agree to what she’s going to say next. 

“I know your hands are going to be full with the program and the staffing,” she starts. “But you’ll work with Soonyoung, won’t you?” 

What kind of person would you be if you said ‘no’? If you threw a fit and demanded for Soonyoung to be thrown out?

“Of course,” you say, the word gritted out through your teeth. 

At your side, Soonyoung lets out a loud cough to disguise his grumble of ‘bullshit’. You fight the urge to kick him in the shins.

The beguiling expression on Teacher Kang’s face is merciless. At this point, she’s no longer hiding the way that she’s watching you and Soonyoung’s heatless bickering. And when she comments on it, when she says “You two haven’t changed,” you almost walk out then and there. 

I’ve changed, you want to insist. He’s changed. We’re both changed; we had to.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been worth it. The breakup, the distance, all of it. 

Soonyoung recovers before you do. 

“Ah, before I forget!” He digs for something in his pants pocket, which he eventually holds out for Teacher Kang. “You asked me for this, the last time we saw each other.” 

Despite yourself, you can’t help but try and crane your neck to catch sight of what had been handed over. Soonyoung catches the small shift and huffs out a laugh. 

“You could just ask, you know,” he says, reaching back into his pocket. 

Your protest of “I don’t—” is cut off by him shoving the same thing in your hand. Your fingers close around the calling card bearing the illustration of a tiger and a string of unfamiliar numbers. 

Hoshi, A.K.A Kwon Soonyoung, it also says. Chief Executive Officer, Eye of the Tiger Dance Studio. B1, 47, Dogok-ro 27-Gil, Gangnam-Gu, Seoul. 

“So you know where to find me,” he says with the world’s most obnoxious smirk. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“I forgot something.” 

“From six years ago?” 

“From six years ago.” 

--

Everybody thought that you and Soonyoung were a foregone conclusion. 

It had been your stereotypical small town romance. You were kids together and then you were teenagers together. Some might have blamed it on forced proximity, but you like to think that the attraction and affection was real. That it wasn’t a matter of not having any other choice. 

You had chosen Soonyoung happily. He had chosen you right back.

After an awkward dance of ‘will-they-won’t-they,’ the two of you started dating in your freshman year of high school. It was the type of thing that had everybody— your respective families, your mutual friends— breathing a sigh of relief. Something akin to finally. 

For nearly four years, Soonyoung was it for you. 

He was the one walking you home, the one you messed around with behind the library building. The two of you shared nearly every first that mattered. Every first that a high schooler could afford, anyway. 

First date.

First kiss. 

And, so it goes— first heartbreak.

Soonyoung had worn his heart on his sleeve; it was abundantly clear to everyone what he cared about. Two things in particular defined him: You, and dancing.

If you really tried, you can still remember the first time that Soonyoung had choreographed a dance himself. He had been young, scrappy, hungry— all the qualities that made it possible for him to tear up the stage and leave the rest of you in awe. 

He went on to be president of your school’s modern dance club. He went on to compete, both in groups and by himself, and win. 

You picked up on it, too, if only to indulge him. The two of you had your fair share of semi-viral dance covers and podium finishes at local contests. It was yet another testament to your partnership, to what everyone presumed would spell out endgame. 

Except you only loved to dance, while Soonyoung lived for it. 

“Come with me,” he had invited you the night before your high school graduation. 

The two of you were supposed to be in bed, but your phone buzzed underneath your pillow and you couldn’t resist one last act of rebellion. You climbed out your window and met up with Soonyoung at your typical halfway point— the derelict playground the two of you have long since grown out of. 

“To where?” you asked, your sandaled feet dragging through the sand beneath the swing. Uncharacteristically, Soonyoung hadn’t kicked off at all, instead opting to remain still. 

His fingers had been tightly clenched around the rusting chain of the dated swing. You remember that much. In hindsight, he looked nervous. 

There is a timeline where he might have proposed to you that night, might have asked for an early hand in marriage, with how on edge he was acting. 

But, instead, you had prompted, “Have you finally decided on a uni?”

A beat. 

His voice— soft and vulnerable— broke the silence of the February evening. “I’m not going to uni.” 

You should have stopped swinging, then. Should have ground to a halt and grabbed Soonyoung by the shoulders. Should have called him crazy, insane.

Maybe you should have asked him to reconsider. That might have changed things. 

Except you only kept on pushing. Back, forth. Back, forth. Like this was just a normal conversation and not a relationship-defining, life-altering moment for the two of you.

“I’m going to Seoul,” he elaborated, desperate to fill your silence. “I’m going to try and be a dancer. You— you could, too.” 

Your answer was immediate. “I’m not as good as you.” 

“You are,” he argued. A muscle in his jaw jumped, then. You’d known him for long enough to recognize his little tells and ticks, and that had been one of them. An indicator of a lie. 

“I’m not.” You kept swinging, kept your face angled away from your boyfriend who was slipping through your fingers. “I’m going to uni, Soonyoung.” 

“But—”

“But what?” 

You’ll never admit this, but you had been cruel back then. You know that now.

There are things you would have done differently. You wouldn’t have snapped. You would have looked at him. 

You were young, though, and angry. Your heart had been shattering in your chest and the only thing you could do was go back and forth on that creaking swing as Soonyoung tried to get through to you. 

It hadn’t been that much of a surprise. Soonyoung’s general disinterest in college applications— and his constant rumblings about city life— had given you some idea of what his plans might be. 

You just thought you would be more involved in it. That you wouldn’t be simply handed the decision, as if it were something you would have to accept.

Young, angry, and selfish to boot. 

“Nothing.” Soonyoung eventually said. His words sounded like a concession, like some form of twisted acceptance. “You’ll go to uni.” 

“And you’ll go to Seoul.”

In your peripheral vision, you had seen Soonyoung tilt his head away as if trying to hide his face from you. Six years is a long time ago. You can’t tell if he had cried, or maybe you’ve chosen to erase that from your memory. 

“I’ll go,” Soonyoung repeated, an edge of defeat in his tone. 

You swung, and swung, and swung, like it was the only thing keeping you tethered. 

Back, forth. Back, forth. 

The quiet had stretched, giving you a chance, an opportunity. To convince him otherwise. To change your own mind. 

But— 

“And I’ll stay,” you had responded. 

That’s the thing about endings: They’re susceptible to change. 

--

The first civil words you utter to Soonyoung are “Yeah, I think the kids will enjoy Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.” 

He’d been spewing out prospects for the showcase’s group dance, though each idea had to be delicately shot down by Teacher Kang. Jingle Bell Rock? Performed three years ago. Baby, It’s Cold Outside? Perhaps not the most appropriate for children. 

You can see from a mile away, the signs of Soonyoung’s growing frustration— the downturn of his lips, the furrow of his brows. When he recommends the Maria Carey classic, you throw him a bone. Just to try and wipe that look off his face.

You immediately regret your kindness, because Soonyoung’s head whips around and he looks at you with the most disbelieving, wide-eyed expression. You return the overreaction with a half-hearted glare. 

“What?” you ask defensively. 

“It’s—” He pauses, his eyes flicking to Teacher Kang. “Nothing, nothing.” 

His jaw ticks. All that time apart and he’s still never learned how to get better at lying. 

You don’t have to poke and prod to know what’s coming. Once your little meeting draws to a close— Teacher Kang eventually agreeing with Santa Claus Is Coming to Town— Soonyoung makes a beeline for your side, his excitement barely concealed. 

“Is the world ending?” he asks you.

You attempt to shoulder past him, but he only follows you out of the classroom, sticking to your side. “You said we would have to talk eventually,” you point out. “Here’s your ‘eventually’. Don’t be too happy about it.” 

“But I am happy about it,” he responds, his tone almost like that of a whining puppy. “Not too much. Just an appropriate amount.” 

So help me, God. 

You keep your gaze ahead as you walk out of the school. Soonyoung matches your pace, humming underneath his breath. You better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout, I’m tellin’ you why. 

Once the two of you are out the front doors of the school, you’re greeted to a light dusting of snow on Namyangju’s sidewalks. 

“So,” Soonyoung says casually as you pull out your phone to check the weather for the rest of the day. “You don’t work full-time at your parents’ restaurant, do you?” 

Involuntarily, a derisive snort of laughter escapes you. “Small talk? Really?” 

There’s a boyish grin on Soonyoung’s face. “Gotta take advantage of you being chatty,” he shoots back, which only prompts you to shake your head. 

You could ignore him, like you always have. You probably should. That had always been Soonyoung’s style. 

Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. 

And yet—

“No,” you grumble, your eyes still absentmindedly scanning your weather app. “I only work at the restaurant part-time.” 

“The rest of the time?” 

“I didn’t realize this was going to be a talk show.” 

“Haven’t you heard? I’m primetime’s most charming host—” 

“Law. I work at a law firm.”

The answer is ripped from you in a bid to avoid Soonyoung’s theatrics, and you find yourself blinking with mild surprise, like you hadn’t prepared to divulge the detail at all. Soonyoung notices, and his lips curl in a smug smirk. 

“I know,” he says simply. “Jihoon told me.” 

You make a mental note to berate your mutual friend as you exasperatedly say, “Why did you ask, then?” 

“Because I wanted to hear it from you.” 

Soonyoung lets his words hang, linger, before he goes on. It’s just four words, what he utters next, but it still threatens to tilt your world on its axis. 

“I’m proud of you,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You’ve heard your fair share of the platitude throughout the years. From Jihoon and Wonwoo, when you first got into law school. From your parents, when you passed the bar exam. From Teacher Kang, every December, when the Christmas showcase is pulled off. 

This is something entirely different. This has you shoving your phone back into your bag, just to hide the way your hand had begun to twitch at the words. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to your ex,” you snap. 

Soonyoung’s answer comes without a moment’s hesitation. “Why? Being exes doesn’t take away the fact that I’m proud of you.” 

Too much, too much, too much. It’s too much for your pride, your emotions, your heart. You wish you could take this for what it is— a compliment, some kindness— but the history goes deep, and the words feel like a scab being picked. 

You do what you do best. You turn on your heel and begin to walk away. 

Thankfully, Soonyoung doesn’t follow you. But he’s nothing if not vexatious, so he squeezes in a sing-song cry of “Byeee, attorney!” as you leave. 

You quicken your pace just a little bit more. 

--

Jihoon has the tendency to look like a kicked puppy when he’s being told off. 

He doesn’t pout, no, but the expression on his face is a close thing as you give him grief over telling Soonyoung about you. Wonwoo, stuck in the middle as per usual, only calmly cuts into his lunch. 

“Why did you have to tell Soonyoung about my work, huh?” you demand as you slice a little too forcefully into your bulgogi. “Giving him free ammunition or something?” 

Jihoon finally gets a word in edgewise. “It’s because he asks about you,” he deadpans. 

The thought of it is so insane that you bark out a laugh. The retort— bullshit!— is right on the tip of your tongue, but it dies out when Wonwoo bobs his head up and down.

Wonwoo has always been the less likely of the two to lie to you. You’re still a bit baffled even as the bespectacled man confirms, “Yeah. He asks me, too.” 

“Asks what?” 

“How you’re doing.” Wonwoo is so nonchalant about the whole affair that you’re tempted to call him out, too, but the lack of teasing in his tone gives you some sense of where his head is at. “What you’re up to. Stuff like that.” 

Kwon Soonyoung has kept tabs on you. 

In the years that you’ve tried to bury the memory of your friendship, of your relationship, Kwon Soonyoung has kept tabs. 

“He—” You clear your throat when your voice comes out a little more high-pitched than usual. If Jihoon and Wonwoo notice, they mercifully don’t call you out. 

You manage, “He could have just reached out to me.”

Jihoon, who had taken advantage of the reprieve to shovel some spoonfuls of rice into his mouth, swallows hard before speaking. 

“Would you have answered?” he inquires, one eyebrow arched upward. 

The truth— rarely plain, never simple— lies in a single, two-lettered word. No. No, you probably wouldn’t have answered. And even though you want to defend yourself, to claim otherwise, both Jihoon and Wonwoo would only do what you had wanted to do earlier. Call bullshit. 

You let out a groan of defeat, slumping forward until your forehead has planted on the table in front of you.

“No further questions, Your Honor,” Wonwoo chirps, and though you can’t see him, you can already imagine the smirk that he’s sporting. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“I thought there would be a high school reunion. I think I got the date wrong.” 

--

The abundance of existing routines for Santa Claus Is Coming to Town makes it somewhat easier for you and Soonyoung to dumb it down for the kids. 

You spend the next week keeping the students in line as Soonyoung teaches them how to shimmy, how to slide, how to do jazz hands. Every so often, you catch him at a loss— like when one of the younger boys tries to eat a crayon, or when the kids go into a scream-filled debate about the existence of Santa Claus. 

These are things you’re used to. These are things you can handle. 

Taking the crayons away or assuring the kids that Santa Claus is real is far, far easier than being in forced proximity with the one that got away. You’re reminded of that, now, as Soonyoung taps out for a breather and you sub in to go over the routine with the kids once more. 

They’re more prone to listening to you, and so you easily get one run of the song down without a hitch. In the years that you’ve voluntarily choreographed for the showcase, you’ve never thought too much about the technicalities of your skill. You danced well enough to teach, to pull off a decent, child-appropriate routine. That had been enough. 

But with the scrutinizing eyes of dance studio CEO ‘Hoshi’ following your every move, you feel that simmer of competitiveness in your stomach. 

After three more runs of the number with the children, you let them go. As you go to catch your breath over one of the auditorium’s bleachers, you’re surprised by a hand holding out a Cool Blue Raspberry Gatorade. 

“Is this still your poison?” Soonyoung asks with a hint of amusement as he settles into the space next to you. 

You don’t answer. Briefly, your mind goes to those days— the salsa competitions, the random play dance events. How Soonyoung’s backpack always had his Game Boy Color, a change of clothes, and a blue Gatorade. The last one, always for you. 

You uncork the drink, tilt your head back, and take a long swig. It’s as close to a confirmation that you’re going to give him. 

The two of you sit in silence as the children begin to file out of the auditorium. Once the only two of you are left, Soonyoung speaks up, the words far too quiet in the otherwise empty room. 

“You really are good, you know.” 

It takes you a beat too long to realize that he’s talking about your dancing. If the two of you were on better terms, you might have teased him about that night on the playground, many years ago, when he had fibbed about you being as good of a dancer as he is.

As it is, you can only respond with an equally soft, “Thanks.”

Being the bigger person lasts for all of fifty seconds, though, because Soonyoung’s next words prickle. 

“Could’ve been much bigger.” 

“Excuse me?”

He freezes, an oh shit type of expression crossing his face. Even so, he doubles down. “I'm just saying,” he starts, his tone growing slightly more defensive. “You could have done much more—” 

Your words are cold as your fingers close tighter around the half-empty bottle of Gatorade. “Am I not doing much where I am right now?” 

“You’re twisting my words,” he shoots back.

“Those are exactly your words,” you fume. 

It’s an old wound, one that Soonyoung poked with something sharp the second he returned home and made his presence known. You’ve done everything you can to ignore it, to keep the ache and the bitterness at bay, but you can’t help the way that it rises in your throat like bile. Something acidic, and foul, and unwelcome. 

You get to your feet, leaving the offered Gatorade on the bleacher. “Sorry not all of us moved to the city and had a big break, Kwon,” you say as you begin to gather your things.

“Jesus Christ.” Soonyoung’s cuss is punctuated with a laugh, but it’s not like any of the laughs you’re used to from him. The sound is annoyed, pained. Almost hurt, even, though you try not to dwell on that. 

Your relationship, your breakup, is an old wound that hasn’t completely healed. It’s been on the edge of festering ever since you lost contact with him. 

And, now, as you leave him stewing in his emotions, you figure that it’s only going to fester some more. 

--

Back then, the two of you had dubbed each other The Great Pretenders. 

Dating in high school required a certain level of delicadeza. While your relationship was largely accepted and acknowledged, there were still a number of things you had to hide from your families and friends. Tear-stained faces after petty arguments. Hickies under the collars of your school uniforms. 

It’s been years, but The Great Pretenders makes a reappearance when the pair of you have to face Teacher Kang the next day.

It goes unspoken that whatever the hell is going on between you two shouldn’t affect the showcase, shouldn’t be obvious to anyone that matters. And so the two of you update her on the kids’ progress, and sip the warm drinks that she offers, without any indication of having had a spat. 

The check-in winds to a close after a couple of polite exchanges. Teacher Kang seems pleased with preparations so far, though she looks even more happy about you and Soonyoung’s perceived civility, which damn near bowls you over. 

“By the way, Soonyoung,” Teacher Kang says conversationally as the three of you pack up for the afternoon. “How’s the studio?” 

“All good.” He pauses, like he realized he hadn’t given that sufficient of an answer. “We’re usually busy around this time of year, but I have one of my staff keeping watch while I’m here. I plan to head back once the holiday season is over.” 

You should’ve seen it coming, but something beneath your rib cage still twinges at the thought. You ignore the feeling in favor of shouldering your backpack. 

“You shouldn’t wait so long before coming back again,” Teacher Kang half-jokes.

Soonyoung’s chuckle— a dry, unconvincing huff of ha-ha— is chased with the cool delivery of “I’ll try to make it a more regular thing.”

In the corner of your eye, you catch what Teacher Kang misses. The most imperceptible tick in Soonyoung’s jaw. 

Liar, you think. Liar, liar, liar. 

You and Soonyoung had mastered the art of pretending, sure, but you could never quite get away from each other. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“I’d forgotten the sound of my mother’s voice.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

--

The snow returns with a vengeance. 

It’s that time of winter where the streets are blanketed with white, where the sleet and rain makes conditions horrendous. You have no choice but to soldier through the soft hail as you make your way to the school, which you’re committed to reach come rain or shine.

Except when you get to the front doors, you’re greeted by a bemused-looking Soonyoung. 

You pat down your snow-clad clothes as you look him up and down. “Where are you going?” 

He answers your question with one of his own. “Haven’t you heard?” He holds up his phone. “Practice is cancelled today. Everybody’s snowed in.” 

You were rarely the type to walk and text, so your phone has been sitting pretty in your pocket this whole time. When you go to check it, you find messages from Teacher Kang. Canceling showcase preparations in lieu of the weather. Stay safe and dry. 

“I just found out myself,” Soonyoung says delicately. 

Ah. That explained why he was the only other person around. 

Disgruntled, you glance at your surroundings. There’s barely anyone present, and the snow is only seeming to fall heavier with each passing minute. You’d be lucky to get a cab at this rate—

“Or I could just drive you.” 

You jump a bit. At what point had you started saying that last thought out loud? 

“That’s not necessary,” you start to say, but Soonyoung is already fishing for his car keys in his jacket pocket. 

“I know you hate my ass,” he responds bluntly. “But that hatred isn’t worth freezing to death over, no?” 

His face is turned away from you, so there’s no way for you to tell what expression he’s sporting. It’s a small grace. Even though you dread the thought of being stuck in a small space with nothing but your thoughts and an old ghost to keep your company, you do hate the prospect of hypothermia even more. 

That’s how you end up in the passenger seat of Soonyoung’s beat-up Hyundai Pony, which stutters and bucks every time he has to take a turn. It’s the very same car that you both learned to drive in, though it’s looking significantly worse for wear. 

While nostalgia has proven to be a bitch, you can’t resist the jab on the tip of your tongue. “Jesus,” you breathe, your fingers tightening around your seatbelt as Soonyoung barely makes a corner. “I can’t believe this thing’s still alive.” 

“That makes two of us,” he quips with a grimace. 

Once the car miraculously makes its way past a snowed-out road, Soonyoung notes, “Remember when my dad first taught us how to get through rain?”

The memory brings the flicker of a smile to your face. “You were so scared you might run a squirrel over,” you say. 

“You swore up and down that you’d never drive on a wet road,” Soonyoung shoots back.  

“I still don’t,” you respond, glancing out the window for the lack of a better thing to look at. “I ask my dad to drive whenever it’s raining.” 

Soonyoung’s next words make you pause. “Your dad hated me,” he huffs. 

You let out a snort of laughter. “That’s not true. He really liked you.” 

“He always left the room whenever I came in,” Soonyoung argues. 

“He wanted to give us privacy.” You can’t help the sigh that slides past your lips, the sound edged with annoyance. “Really, you’ve got to stop blaming other people for why we didn’t work out.”

The words hang heavy in the din of the car. You wonder, for a second, if you’d been too callous, but there’s something like a rueful smile that tugs at Soonyoung’s face. 

“Sorry. Coping mechanism,” he responds, and you don’t push any further. 

An awkward couple of moments follow. Unfortunately for you, Soonyoung has never learned the art of tact— always pushing it just a little bit, right to the point where the tension is drawn like a rubber band. 

“You know, my mom has been asking about you,” Soonyoung says conversationally as he turns into your neighborhood. “Says I should invite you over for lunch.” 

Your grasp on the seatbelt is white-knuckled. It wasn’t like you were actively avoiding the Kwons; you were perfectly polite when you saw them in public, when you ran into them in the supermarket or at church. But it’s been years since you last stepped foot in their house, and for obvious reasons, too. 

“I’m not ready for that,” you answer tersely. 

Soonyoung is either oblivious to your agitation or ignorant of it. Regardless of which, he goes on, “I said the same thing. I guess she still thinks—” 

“Let’s not go there.” Your tone is just cutting enough to give Soonyoung pause, to have him stammer to a halt as he pulls to a stop in front of your house. “I’m hot having this conversation with you, Soonyoung.” 

He doesn’t apologize, though he does back down. “Right,” he mumbles as he parks. “Right.” 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, careful to keep your gaze trained away from Soonyoung. “Thanks for the ride.”

Soonyoung is graciously quiet as you step out of his car, though that lasts for all of ten seconds— just enough for you to almost close the door on him— when he speaks up. 

“Hey. For the record,” he starts, leaning over the center console to get in the last word. “I don’t blame anyone else for our breakup. I know whose fault it is.” 

You raise an eyebrow. He throws you an infuriating grin before reaching over to pull the door close himself. 

Soonyoung peels away, once again leaving you with more questions than answers. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“It’s cold in the city, during the winter.” 

--

You and Soonyoung find yourselves doubling your efforts as the date of the showcase looms.

You spend more of your time with Teacher Kang. You extend a little more patience to the kids. You dance— dance the routines, dance with Soonyoung, dance around the truth. 

But when the elephant in the room is as big as it is, ignorance is not an option. And Soonyoung never did learn how to keep his mouth shut. 

It’s late in the evening, the two of you having pulled extra hours to work on decor. You’d felt like it was going a little too well with the way that the two of you were uncharacteristically cordial throughout the afternoon. But of course that was too good to be true, because just as you were packing up for the night, Soonyoung had to go and say— 

“Are you happy here?” 

You freeze midway into packing away the multi-colored, Christmas tree-shaped banners. That familiar flash of frustration, that inkling that he’s looking down on you, rises up again. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you say, and he’s immediately prickly. 

“It’s nothing.” He shoves some of the props behind the stage, hasty in his pursuit to end the conversation as fast as possible. “Forget I said anything.” 

“Come on,” you bristle. All the while, you’re also putting things back in place— your movements just a little more forceful than necessary. “Spit it out. You started it.” 

“I was just asking.” 

“You’re never ‘just asking’. Go on, say it.” 

“You—” 

The two of you are glaring at each other, now, your face red and Soonyoung’s fists balled at his side. When you speak, it’s with a tone that could cut through ice. 

“Just because I chose to stay,” you say. “It doesn’t mean my dreams are smaller than yours.” 

Soonyoung looks dumbstruck. His voice is impossibly tight; his words, reverberating in the otherwise empty hall. 

“I wasn’t going to say your dreams are small. It’s just… We—” He backtracks, like the pronoun had been a scalding slip of the tongue. “You could’ve sold out auditoriums.” 

Your answer is immediate, if not a little strained. 

“A sold out auditorium doesn’t matter if the one person you want isn’t at the recital,” you say. “Some people find happiness right where they are, and this is mine.” 

And that’s always been the crux of it, hasn’t it? Soonyoung has tried to make a name for himself in cities, in rooms full of people cheering his name. His definition of success was only achievable in quantity, in scale. Yours was different, and he could never really quite accept that. 

There’s a moment where Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with a pinched expression on his face. He opens his mouth like he might say something— 

“Oi! You two!”

You and Soonyoung jump, the tension that had been simmering between you two disappearing at the interruption. The school’s ancient janitor lingers by the door, squinting at you two. 

“Whaddya think yer still doin’ here?” the old man croaks, wielding his broom in a fashion that still makes you recoil. “It’s past curfew! Geddout!” 

Never mind the fact you and Soonyoung were now in your late twenties and long out of high school. The two of you still cower and meekly mumble, “Sorry, Mr. Cho.” 

It’s snowing again when the two of you step out. Soonyoung’s face is set in stone as he mumbles, “Get in my car.” 

Right. Like that was going to happen. 

With a wordless huff, you begin to march in the opposite direction to him. “Hey,” he calls out. “Where are you going?” 

“Home!” 

“In this— hey, it’s snowing!”

“That’s what happens during the winter!” 

You’d be a little more conscious about having a screaming match in the streets if it wasn’t nearly midnight. Something about the incessant snowfall and the cloak of darkness gives you just a little more courage to speak your mind, to toe that line that the two of you have so haphazardly drawn. 

Soonyoung marches after you, his own misgivings about the weather momentarily forgotten. He’s raring to fight, and it shows in the way he stomps through the snow like an overgrown child. 

“So that’s it, then?” he hollers from a couple of paces behind you. “You’re just going to stay here for the rest of your life, playing it safe? Work at the family restaurant because of filial piety? Marry— I don’t fucking know— guy-next-door Joshua Hong, and have babies, and—” 

“What is your problem?!” you snap, rounding on Soonyoung. He skids to a halt, stopping himself from completely barreling into you. “Why are you acting like you know me?” 

“Because I do!” His voice cracks on the last word. “I know you!”

“No, you don’t.” 

“I know you very well.” 

“From what? Jihoon and Wonwoo’s stories?” There’s a muscle straining in your neck from the way you’ve raised your voice, but you can’t find it in yourself to back down. “Think that’s enough to fill a six-year gap?” 

That seems to get Soonyoung. “You never reached out to me! Not once!” he seethes. 

“Well, neither did you!”

“I didn’t think—” His breath catches. He pushes on. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” 

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.” 

“What’s your excuse, then?” he shoots back. “Come on. I’m dying to hear it.” 

What’s your excuse, he’s asking. Why haven’t you reached out? If you were so angry and upset about the radio silence, why did you do nothing about it? 

Several answers occur to you at once. There was Soonyoung’s own flimsy reasoning. I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.

There was something close to the truth, something a little too vulnerable to be spoken out loud. I was mad at you. I hated you for a bit. I think I still hate you even now. 

There was the whisper of something treacherous, something damning. I was scared that I would only end up asking for you to come back. 

None of those words come out. You stay standing across from Soonyoung in the wake of his challenge, your face flushed, your gaze narrow. He glares right back at you, unyielding in his pride and his pain. 

The silence stretches. It becomes an answer in itself. 

“Exactly,” Soonyoung says with a heavy exhale. There’s a spark of flint in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be likened to hurt. “It takes two people to break up. You always seem to forget that.” 

As he begins to stalk away, you’re overcome with that feeling again. That heavy weight in your chest, put there whenever you know he got the last word, whenever he turned out to be right. Soonyoung has only taken about three steps away before you’re bending down and cupping some snow in your hands. 

The hastily-made snowball hits Soonyoung on the back of his head. It splatters against his hair, leaving tiny, glistening flakes tangled in his blonde strands. 

He freezes, but only for a moment. In the blink of an eye, Soonyoung is already crouching down to retaliate. He’s quicker and much more savage, and his revenge soars through the end to land squarely in your chest. 

You stagger backward, the gasp catching in your throat. Oh, it’s on.

What ensues is the most ruthless snowball fight that your small town has seen. Snowballs are hurled with reckless abandon, the ice crystals getting everywhere from your clothes to your socks. Neither of you even bother to try and hide from the onslaught. The two of you take each other’s attacks, every hit punctuated with heatless insults that have simmered too long. 

“You never called—” Soonyoung screeches, sending a cold sphere against your shoulder. 

“You didn’t visit—” you shriek as you shape ammunition in your gloved hands. 

“You deleted every photo of me off your Facebook—” A snowball to your side. 

“You talked to Jihoon and Wonwoo, but not me—” Another square hit to Soonyoung’s chest, sending a puff of powdery snow up into his face.

“Coward!”

“Asshole!”

It feels like hours before the two of you let up. 

The two of you are covered in snow from head to toe; your chests heaving from exertion, your cheeks ruddy from the cold. The heat of the exchange leaves you both puffing breaths that cloud the air between you. 

There’s a hint of something in your stances. Something that feels like it belongs to another time— before the breakup, before the distance. 

Quietly, Soonyoung starts to laugh. 

His hands are on his hips and his head is tilted back. The flakes catch on his eyelashes, his hair, but he keeps his face upturned to the sky as he laughs, and laughs, and laughs. 

That old, familiar sound. The one that warms you up from the inside, whether or not you care to admit it. You’re doubled over, your hands on your knees, as you watch him look more and more like the boy you loved and lost. 

“I hate you,” you choke out, though a corner of your mouth has twitched upward. 

He doesn’t even look at you as he responds.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Missed you, too.” 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“Am I not allowed to?” 

--

“Soonyoung says you two kissed and made up.” 

You shoot Jihoon an unamused glare. 

From across you, he raises his hand in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t believe him, of course,” he insists, though you don’t miss the way he and Wonwoo try to discreetly exchange money under the table. 

Wonwoo catches your suspicious expression and gives you an apologetic grin in return. 

“Made a bet,” he says. 

“You two suck,” you groan. 

Your three’s weekly lunch has gone mostly swimmingly up to the point that Jihoon had brought up Soonyoung. Now, though, with the topic broached, neither of your friends see the need to be discreet about it. 

“I do wonder why Soonie decided to come home now, after all these years,” Wonwoo muses aloud, toying with his chopsticks as he speaks. “Seems a bit out of the blue, doesn’t it?” 

“He came home because Teacher Kang asked him,” you point out. 

One of Jihoon’s eyebrows cocks upward. “Teacher Kang has asked him every year for the past couple of years,” he says. “So it’s not just that, I’m sure.” 

Wonwoo chimes in with, “Must be something real important, then.” 

Jihoon nearly smirks. “Or someone.” 

What feels like your nth groan of the evening escapes you. “Put a sock in it, you two,” you grumble, drawing snickers from your friends.

Jihoon mouths something to Wonwoo. You can’t make it out for certain, but it looks suspiciously like a wordless grumble of Bet’s still on. 

--

Civility is a rare thing to share with Soonyoung. 

With the showcase mere days away, it’s a welcome development. At least it’s easier for the two of you to iron out the chinks in the routines, to ensure the program is up to par with the school’s standards.

But with civility comes an even more fragile thing— hope. 

It’s in the way Soonyoung will hold open doors for you or haul the heavier props on your behalf, much to your chagrin and to Teacher Kang’s amusement. 

It’s in the way Soonyoung starts to make small talk about everything from your day job to your parents, never minding much that he’s the one who has to carry half the conversations. 

It’s in the way Soonyoung tries to make you laugh, and how, one afternoon, he finally succeeds.

You can’t even remember what it was. Some terrible joke about the kids, maybe. All you know is that a snort of laughter had slid out of you, the sound not quite the derisive giggles you’d been giving him the past couple of weeks. 

You’re still chuckling when you see Soonyoung’s face. 

Immediately, you sober up. “What?” you ask, because he’s staring at you with his jaw slack and his eyes slightly wide. 

He tries to rearrange his expression into something more acceptable; it’s too late, given that you’ve already caught him. Soonyoung may have not always been honest, but he was expressive. 

You glare at him, indicating that he’s not about to escape, and he huffs out a defeated sigh. 

“It’s just— I forgot, okay?” 

“Forgot what?” 

“How good happiness looks on you.” 

Who the hell says something like that on a random Thursday? 

Soonyoung still has that vaguely dazed look in his eyes, even though you’ve begun to stare at him like he’s insane. As he walks away to go and refill his water bottle, he nearly collides with one of the auditorium’s poles, drawing raucous laughter from the kids. 

You shush them, the tips of your ears beginning to flame. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“It was about time.” 

--

It’s nothing short of a miracle, how you, Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Wonwoo all end up at the same table at Taco Joe’s. 

Jihoon had been the one who proposed the idea. So casually, too, like he was readying himself for one of your infamous tirades or a flurry of your punches. Soonyoung wants to grab drinks with all of us.

To Jihoon and Wonwoo’s surprise, you had only responded with, “When?” 

Neither boys want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so they’re extra careful in playing their cards right. Wonwoo vows to be the designated driver. Jihoon holds back on making any jokes about the whole affair. And, Soonyoung— well, he’s just happy to be there. 

“This place really hasn’t changed, huh?” Soonyoung snickers as he sips at his beer. 

There’s not a lot of bars to choose from in your small town, making Taco Joe’s something of an institution. Its low lights, Top 50’s playlist, and cheap drinks attract more of the mid-twenties crowd, though there had been a time in your teenage years when you’d all tried and failed to sneak in. 

“Joe threatened to ban us for life when we first stepped foot in here,” Jihoon reminisces. 

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up his face by the bridge of his nose. “Worse,” he says. “He said he would tell our parents.” 

Simultaneously, the four of you shudder. A small smile tugs at your lips as you extend your cocktail for the boys to cheers with. 

“To vindication,” you announce. 

There’s a ripple of laughter among your friends. 

“Vindication,” they echo, clinking their bottles and glasses with yours. 

A part of you is suspicious at how pleasant the night is going. The conversation is easy, if not a little on the safe side. The drinks are good. The music is more often a hit instead of a miss. It’s shaping up to be a decent evening, though there are a handful of interruptions here and there. 

Kwon Soonyoung is a bit of a local celebrity, after all. 

Everybody and their mother knows about his swanky dance studio in the city, about the idols and celebrities he’s met in his line of work. Every so often, someone will stop by to greet him, to exchange a word or two with him. 

Soonyoung is perfectly amicable to all of them. His smile, practiced; his words, cool and smooth. After the fourth or so person has come up to say hello to the Hoshi, Jihoon voices out what you’ve all been thinking. 

“It’s so exhausting hanging out with you,” Jihoon says dryly.

Soonyoung giggles mid-swig of his alcohol. “Can’t help it.” He fakes a tired sigh, his shoulders rising in a shrug. “Everybody wants a piece of me.” 

“I’ll tear you to pieces if anyone else comes up to us,” Wonwoo warns. 

Your gaze flicks over Wonwoo’s shoulder, towards someone approaching your corner table. “Get those claws ready, Wonu,” you say.

When Joshua Hong saunters up to your group’s table, though, his greeting for Soonyoung is cursory at best. 

“Nice to see you back, Kwon,” the man says politely before turning his attention to you. “Hey, you.” 

You straighten in your seat. Jihoon and Wonwoo exchange a look. Soonyoung’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as he gives a grumbled ‘hello’ to Joshua’s lackluster greeting. 

It’s apparent that Joshua isn’t there for him, because Joshua is instead smiling at you. “Hey,” you respond in kind. “What’s up?” 

Joshua had been an upperclassman during your school days, part of the infamous trio featuring troublemaker Yoon Jeonghan and varsity captain Choi Seungcheol. But Joshua was more on the mild side, known for his volunteer work at the local choir. He wasn’t any less unattainable, though, and you’re reminded of why Soonyoung so callously threw his name out during your more recent spat. 

Prior to dating Soonyoung, you did have a raging crush on Joshua, after all. You’re briefly reminded of it as he flashes you a warm smile. “I was hoping I could buy you a drink,” he says. “For… you know.” 

There’s absolutely nothing coy in Joshua’s words. He’s not suggestive, not trying to come on to you. All the same, the three boys at your table react like Joshua had just proposed. 

Jihoon bites back a grin. Wonwoo cocks his head to one side. Soonyoung shoots back a quarter of his beer. 

For… you know, Joshua is saying, and you know exactly what he means even though the rest aren’t privy to it. You’re already getting to your feet before you can register it. “Yeah,” you say, nodding towards the bar. “Let’s go.” 

None of your friends say a thing as you step away with Joshua, but you can feel their eyes on your back. You know you’re going to get hell for it later— but, for now, you focus on the small talk that Joshua has to offer. 

He lets you pick out your cocktail of choice. As the bartender goes to make it, Joshua smiles down at you. There had been a time where you might’ve keened over at the sight of it; now, though, it only makes your heart flutter a bit. 

His voice is just loud enough to be heard over the thumping music, but low enough that it’s just for the two of you. 

“Thank you for your help,” he says. “Really. You’re a life-saver.” 

Your expression softens underneath the lights of the bar. “How’s your dad?” 

Joshua’s smile is a little tight, but not any less sincere. “Better,” he responds. “It’s rough, of course, but he’s coping.” 

Earlier in the year, Joshua’s father had been one of your firm’s clients. It had been a lot more challenging than you thought, working with someone you personally knew. The arduous process had involved unsecured debts, scarred credit scores, and seized collaterals, but you were ultimately able to help the Hongs in closing down their music school. 

“I’m glad.” You pause, as if realizing that’s not quite the right thing to say. “I’m not glad about what happened—” 

Joshua’s laughter cuts through your tirade. Your shoulders ease when you realize it’s not a particularly mean laugh. More of an amused sound at your panic. 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he reassures as the bartender slides your drinks to you. Joshua gives the other man a nod and a mumbled promise of tipping later.

“I don’t want to keep you,” Joshua says. “Just wanted to show my appreciation.” 

“You didn’t have to.” Your fingers wrap around the drink he brought you. “But thank you, anyway.” 

Joshua nods, grins. The lines are clear as day. He’s not flirting, not trying to get in your pants or anything. The drink is exactly that: A show of gratitude. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Some old version of you might have been disappointed. Tonight, you are only oddly relieved. The two of you talk a little more— about things that are neither here nor there— before Joshua lets you go. 

Upon your return to your table, you’re greeted with a sight for sore eyes. 

Somehow, in the fifteen or so minutes that you were gone, Soonyoung had already shot back his first bottle of beer. As you slide back into your seat next to Wonwoo, your bespectacled friend quietly divulges, “That’s his third one.” 

“Third?” You glance toward Soonyoung, your eyebrows raised quizzically. “Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning or something?” 

Soonyoung only flashes you a grin before taking another swig. He ignores your question in favor of chatting Jihoon’s ear off; the latter throws you a bemused look before going back to his conversation with Soonyoung. 

You huff out a sigh as you go to nurse the cocktail that Joshua got you. 

“I wonder what’s gotten into him,” Wonwoo says, his tone just a little too smug for his own good. 

You shoot him a sideways glare. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, hiding his blooming smile behind a sip of his soda. 

As the night wears on, you begin to feel that familiar buzz in your system. The telltale signs of your tipsiness leave you pleasantly sated— your laughter a little less restrained, your brain a lot more empty. So when Soonyoung leans across the table to yell at you, “Let’s dance!”, your first instinct is not to say Fuck off. 

The words that come out instead are “To what song?” 

Soonyoung is already standing up and moving around the table to get to your side. An intoxicated Jihoon and sober Wonwoo only watch on, spectators to this impending dumpster fire, as Soonyoung reaches out to tug you out of your seat. 

“Any song,” he breathes. His face is flushed a deep shade of red, but his eyes are as bright as ever. “Anything you want.” 

There’s a right thing to do in this situation.

The right thing to do would be to let Soonyoung down politely. To tell him no, you’re not interested in dancing. You’re happy to drink with him and your friends, but you’re not about to indulge him with the thing that once made the two of you so close. You don’t think your heart can take it. 

But you’re two cocktails in. The music is good. And Soonyoung is looking at you with that absolutely incandescent expression, faring not any better than you in the game of sobriety. How could you deny him? 

You let him pull you to your feet. His hand stays wrapped around your wrist as he drags you out onto the dance floor, as he leans over to the DJ and yells, “Do you have any GD?!”

The current track transitions into the unmistakable beats of Good Boy. Soonyoung’s face lights up like a firework. 

You’re drunk enough to laugh at him, with him, as you easily fall into the decade-old dance routine. No matter how long it’s been, it seems like your body still remembers every step, every hand movement. 

You’re drunk enough to not care that Wonwoo is not-so discreetly filming the two of you, that Jihoon is wearing a knowing smirk. Come tomorrow, your friends will have a lot to say about this moment. But, right now, it’s all inconsequential. 

You’re drunk enough to dance. To dance in a way that isn’t simply for Christmas showcase purposes. To dance and remember why you loved it so much in the first place. 

To dance with the boy who got you into it in the first place. 

Good Boy spins into Home Sweet Home, then Fantastic Baby, then Gee. You and Soonyoung dance through it all. Honestly, you’re no longer built for this the same way that you once were, and you’re certainly not up to par with Soonyoung.

His drunkenness does nothing to dampen his energy or his dancing skills. He moves across the floor with the practiced ease of a professional, putting everyone to shame without even trying. His toothy smile never leaves his face as the two of you swing and pop and glide. 

By the time the DJ starts to play more modern pop, you call for a time-out. Soonyoung stumbles after you and the two of you collapse onto a nearby couch, boneless from the non-stop dancing. 

Wonwoo is off to one side, chatting with a girl, while Jihoon is nowhere to be found. You wouldn’t hold it past the latter to be on a smoke break of some sorts; nights out always tended to drain him, after all. 

“Insane,” Soonyoung croaks out. Blonde strands of his hair stick to his face due to sweat. You resist the urge to fix it.

“I haven’t danced like that in ages,” you say, rolling your shoulders to fight off the growing ache in your body. 

Soonyoung tries to laugh. The sound comes out more like a wheeze. His next words are mumbled in between attempts to catch his breath. “You’re good, babe.” 

Come Back Home is thumping through the speakers. You try to focus on that instead of Soonyoung’s Freudian slip; you fail miserably, and it must show on your face because Soonyoung sucks in some air through his teeth. 

“Sorry.” He’s laughing, but the sound is a bit rough around the edges. “Moment of weakness.” 

A beat. “Wanna dance some more?” he prompts. 

Whether it’s a desperate bid to run from his words or a sincere offer by a man who simply lives to dance, you don’t question it. “Yeah,” you say a little too quickly. “Let’s dance.” 

You dance until you feel like your feet are going to fall off. Soonyoung matches your pace, never missing a beat. When he needs to take a break, he drinks some more— an endless cycle of dance floor shenanigans and drawn-out sips of beer. 

It’s probably why he’s swaying by the time that you’re all calling it a night. Wonwoo and Jihoon flank Soonyoung on either side, the blonde still somehow having the tenacity to chatter while dragging his feet. He’s talking out of his ass about one thing or another, like music these days “not being as good as the OGs,” and you can sense Wonwoo’s exasperation over the whole thing. 

“Living in Seoul has done absolutely nothing for your tolerance,” Wonwoo grumbles, prompting Soonyoung to go into a long-winded rant about the cultural differences in drinking culture. 

The relief on Wonwoo’s face is palpable as he shoves Soonyoung into the backseat of his car. 

Jihoon gives a nod of his own. “You’ll be good to drive?” he asks Wonwoo.  

“Didn’t drink a drop,” Wonwoo chirps. “You?” 

“Sobered up, like, two hours ago,” Jihoon says wryly. He gives you a vicious side eye— wordlessly blaming you for not being able to go home any earlier, since he was your designated driver— and you raise your shoulders in a half-shrug. 

“You were the one who invited me out to drink.” Your voice is hoarse from all the alcohol, from the physical exertion of non-stop dancing. 

You’re somehow lucid enough to register that Soonyoung is calling for you. There’s a slight pout on his face, like he’s upset to be missing out on the conversation. He’s bracing himself against the frame of the car door, his legs swung over the seat, as you gingerly approach.

“What?” you ask.  

This close, you can smell his faint cologne, mingling with the scent of alcohol and sweat. 

This close, you can see the way his eyes are slightly unfocused; his mouth, still bearing the hint of a glowing smile. 

“You—” he croaks out. 

His gaze darts to your lips. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. You don’t miss it.

Your breath stills in your chest, and Soonyoung is looking up at your face like he’s searching for something. Denial? Reciprocity? 

He must not have found what he was looking for, because the words he grumbles are, “I’m going to hurl.” 

Wonwoo’s panicked shriek cuts through the otherwise quiet parking lot. 

“Not in my fucking car, asswipe!” 

--

Soonyoung’s hangover the next day is comical. 

You can’t help but snicker as he rolls up to the showcase’s dry run with shades over his eyes and a large cup of coffee in his shaking hands. 

“You suck,” he hisses to you as he slides on to the bench next to you. Teacher Kang is busy heralding the students, getting them into their costumes and places, so the two of you have a minute alone before the hubbub strikes up. 

“You’re the one who can’t hold down his alcohol,” you respond, eyeing his slumped form with amusement. 

Soonyoung mumbles some incoherent cusses, his free hand reaching up to rub at his temples. 

“God, my last memory was Hong coming up to the table,” he grouses. 

You’re reminded of the inordinate amount of alcohol he downed in your brief absence. I wonder what’s gotten into him, Wonwoo had said. 

“That clears,” you say sympathetically. 

There’s a moment’s pause before Soonyoung tentatively asks, “Did the two of you ever…?” 

You don’t immediately register what he’s asking about Joshua. When it hits you, though, you find a startled laugh sliding past your lips. Because there’s Wonwoo’s answer, even though you don’t recognize it then and there. 

“Hong? No, no.” For reasons you can’t quite explain, you feel compelled to tack on, “I haven’t really had the time to date.” 

“Oh.” It kills you, how Soonyoung almost sounds relieved. “Me, too. I mean— me neither.” 

“Ah.” 

“Running a dance studio is a lot of work.” 

“Right.” 

“And I’m sure— law school, right? That was a lot of work, too.” 

“Right, yeah.” 

It’s a stilted conversation, one heavy in its implications. The real things that the two of you want to say, want to address, linger on the surface, but neither of you seem to want to break that ice. 

You settle, instead, for this moment. For the negligible distance between the two of you on the bleachers and how it closes, slow but steady, like the ticking hands of a clock. 

Your shoulder just barely presses against Soonyoung’s. 

Neither of you move away. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“Because I love you, and I miss you.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“Only one of those is a lie, actually.” 

--

You’ve always liked being front of house during the showcase.

You’re a familiar face to the parents of the children, to the community members who attended the event every year. Their warmth is a welcome reprieve from your nerves. 

You make small talk. You usher people to their seats. You try not to wonder where the hell Kwon Soonyoung is. 

Despite having his calling card, you haven’t deigned to reach out. It’s tucked away in a drawer at home; you don’t quite know what to do with it. Maybe you’ll actually save his number one of these days. 

You’re entertaining the thought when you feel a hand at your elbow. The smiling face of Iseul’s mother— the pompous but well-meaning Mrs. Hwang— greets you. 

“There’s no need for that,” she says with a chuckle as you fold into a bow. You don’t miss the way she nonetheless preens at your formalities. It’s why you keep up with it. 

You let her link your arms and, out of instinct, you begin to lead her to one of the free seats in the auditorium. “Are you excited for this year’s show, Mrs. Hwang?” you ask conversationally. 

“You know it,” she answers. “Iseul has been talking non-stop about her performance, but she refuses to tell me what song to expect!”

You’d recognize Mrs. Hwang’s baiting tendencies from a mile away. With a curt giggle, you tell her, “You’ll find out soon enough, Mrs. Hwang. I promise it’ll be worth the suspense.” 

The older woman gives you a disapproving frown, but it smooths out as she seems to realize a change in topic. The auditorium is notably a little more packed this year, enough to have the volunteers bringing out additional Monobloc chairs. 

“I guess people want to see what the Kwon boy has done to the showcase, hm?” she notes, speaking into existence the fact that you’ve neglected to acknowledge so far.

Surprisingly, you don’t feel bitter about it. People were showing up to assess Soonyoung’s choreography, to bask in the product of his labor. There’s a twinge of something in your chest. It could almost be mistaken for pride.  

Mrs. Hwang tacks on, “Mighty shame.” 

That throws you off. “Pardon?” 

She doesn’t respond immediately, her eyes zeroing in on an empty chair by the front of the stage. She practically drags you there as she continues, “It’s really so unfortunate. The whole thing about his dance studio tanking.” 

The whole thing about his dance studio tanking. 

What the hell was she talking about? 

The universe, once again, had to be messing with you. You’re convinced this is some skit. Some buildup to a joke. 

But the punch line never comes, and you end up admitting, “I don’t think I’ve heard about that yet, Mrs. Hwang.” 

Your voice is surprisingly even for someone whose world was closing in. If Mrs. Hwang can sense the trepidation in your demeanor, she makes no indication of it. You’re grateful for her obliviousness, even, because she only keeps talking as she settles into her seat. 

“My girls are always talking about it,” she says, referring to the group of forty-something-year-old women who like to gather and gossip in the town’s sole Italian restaurant. “That’s why he’s back. Couldn’t hack it out there.” 

When she glances up at you with a scrutinizing expression, you just know you’re not going to like what she says next. You’re proven right when she says, “We thought he’d ask for your help, actually. Isn’t liquidation your specialty?” 

You can’t be bothered to correct the woman over the technicalities. You give her a tight smile, a nod of your head, a polite ‘goodbye’ as you take your leave. 

There are much more pressing matters, you think to yourself, as you go to greet more guests, make sure the music is all queued up, check in on the host’s script.

You didn’t spend over a month preparing for tonight only to lose yourself before it’s even begun. You refuse to let the new piece of information trip you up, even though it has your heart acting like a caged animal underneath your ribs. 

The showcase goes by without a hitch. The children are more than phenomenal; they’re perfect. 

The audience is enamored. The teachers are overjoyed. 

You want nothing more than to go home and tear up Soonyoung’s calling card. 

As the showcase wraps up to enthusiastic applause, Teacher Kang snatches the microphone from the host for one last announcement. 

“This wouldn’t have been possible without two of our very tireless volunteers,” she says, and— from backstage— you wince. Before you know it, you’re being pushed out onto the stage.

Soonyoung exits from the other stage wing.

He’s managed to evade you the entire showcase, and now you realize why. In his arms, he holds a monstrous bouquet. Yellow acacias, striped carnations, bunch-flowered daffodils. Your first thought is how expensive it might have been, to find out-of-season blooms in the thick of winter. 

Your second thought is that you want to hurl, but that’s neither here nor there. 

As Soonyoung strides in from the other side of the stage to meet you in the middle, he sees it. He sees the hint of trepidation underneath your practiced grin, sees the way your eyes flash momentarily. His own grin drops ever so slightly. 

But the two of you are in an auditorium, on a stage in front of Namyangju’s best and brightest. Neither of you can afford to give voice to what you feel. 

Soonyoung hands you the bouquet. You nod in acknowledgement. 

The two of you instinctively reach for each other’s hands.

You hadn’t noticed that the crowd had gotten to their feet. A standing ovation. It feels like an echo of the past, a cruel reminder of an alternate universe. 

Even so, your smile never wavers. Neither does Soonyoung’s. He raises your hand. The two of you take a bow. 

The Great Pretenders put on their best show yet.

--

“What was that?” 

A part of you is surprised that Soonyoung found you. The moment the showcase officially concluded, you were booking it out of the auditorium before he could even get a word in edgewise. Gracefully, the dozens of people hounding him for photos and small talk let you widen the gap. 

Still, he caught up. Just as you were passing by the godforsaken playground that had witnessed the ending of it all. Oh, the universe and its jokes. 

Soonyoung is red-faced, like you’d embarrassed him somehow despite the convincing act you both put on. Your fingers tighten around the bouquet he gave you. 

“What was that?” he repeats, and what little restraint you had left snaps. 

“Why did you come home?” you ask point blank. 

“Teacher Kang—” 

“Don’t,” you snipe. “Teacher Kang asked you last year. And the year before that. Why did you come home now, Soonyoung?” 

The question hangs heavy in the early December evening. You and Soonyoung are staring at each other, mere paces away from the swing set where the two of you made your choices.

He doesn’t answer right away, so you prompt him with, “Is it because of me?” 

Soonyoung misinterprets the question. You can see the way his eyes light up, the way his lips part like he’s just about to say something of consequence. 

You almost feel guilty about the next words that tear out of you. “You’re going bankrupt,” you say, and the hope on his face fizzles out like a popped lightbulb. 

“Who told you—” he chokes out. 

“So it’s true?” 

Kwon Soonyoung is struck dumb.

Soonyoung, whose mouth ran faster than his brain. Soonyoung, who was full of quick quips and witty remarks. 

Soonyoung, who is now staring at you like you’ve told him the world was about to end. 

You contemplate throwing his bouquet in his face. It will make for a dramatic, pretty picture— the petals falling onto the soft snow, the fuck you loud despite being unspoken. For now, you only clutch the arrangement closer to your chest like it's a lifeline.

“And here I thought—” Your breath hitches on a scoff, the puff of air visible in the chill. “I was a fool who thought you came back for me.” 

The truth cuts. Your laugh bitterly as you go on, “I guess you still did, though, huh? Because you need me. What? Were you hoping to avail of cheap services, Kwon?” 

“That’s not—” 

“That’s exactly it!” Your tone is shrill. Soonyoung always did bring out the worst in you. “You were away for six years, and now you’ve come crawling back—” 

“Do you think I wanted to fail?” 

Soonyoung’s voice rises, his frustration bubbling over to match yours. 

“I starved out there,” he bites out. “Ate cup noodles for a year so the studio could afford rent for one more month. Sold half of my stuff so I could pay my employees. It was so hard.” 

The way Soonyoung’s voice breaks on the last word makes something in your heart clench. For a moment, you think it might be pity, but you kill the feeling as soon as it tries to make itself known. 

You don’t want to pity Soonyoung, which is both an insult and a grace. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask instead, even though a part of you already knows the answer. 

A sound that’s almost like a delirious laugh escapes him. “Not when I was the one who made it out,” he responds. 

You never realized how much you’d prefer Soonyoung’s cocky, self-assured self over this version of him. This boy— man— who is defeated and resigned. Even in your anger, there is a small part of you that wants to do something to wipe that look off his face.  

“I made it out,” he repeats wearily, like it’s taking everything in him to face the truth of being Namyangju’s failing poster boy. 

He continues, “I gave up everything to be there. I gave up you.”

Your grip on the bouquet tightens. There’s a faint prickle behind your eyes, but you refuse to let those tears fall. “You did that like it was easy,” you mumble, your voice just loud enough to carry. 

Soonyoung meets your gaze. He looks like he’s on the verge of sobbing himself, but his tone brokers no arguments. 

“It wasn’t,” he says.

And that was that. 

You’ve never been able to stand not having the last word. You clear your throat, attempting to speak through the lump forming there. “Yeah, well,” you say shakily. “You’re not the only one who lost something.” 

It’s a shitty comparison and you know it. Soonyoung’s sacrifices dwarf yours. You weren’t the one who moved away, who bore the weight of an entire city’s pride. 

Thankfully, Soonyoung doesn’t call you out on it. He only takes a sharp exhale and turns his gaze away, his eyes fixed on the swings. 

When he speaks, his voice is quiet. Almost like the words are an afterthought. “For the record— that night?” he says. You don’t have to ask for clarification. You know exactly which night he’s talking about. 

“I was hoping you’d change my mind,” he confesses. 

A physical blow to the chest would have hurt less. You stagger, but you try to mask it like you’re taking a step back. Like you’re walking away, even as your eyes never leave Soonyoung’s face. 

“And I was hoping I’d be worth staying for,” you say with a humorless laugh, the distance between the two of you growing, growing, growing. 

Your parting words are the proverbial nail on the coffin: “I guess we both didn’t get what we wanted.” 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

“I didn’t know where else to go.” 

--

For once, Jihoon and Wonwoo have nothing to say. 

No wisecrack. No jab. No exchange of money in some backhanded bet. 

They listen as you recount the salient points of the argument. You keep the personal stuff out of your own retelling, focusing only on the broad strokes. The biggest concern lies in one nagging question. 

“Did you know?” you ask, your hands bracing the table in front of you. 

“No,” Jihoon says immediately. 

Wonwoo chimes in with a quiet “Me neither.” 

You know these boys. You’ve seen them lie to their parents about their homework, lie to their girlfriends about where they were. 

They’re not lying now. You know that much. 

A shaky exhale escapes you. It’s been three days since the fight and you’ve yet to run into Soonyoung. You wouldn’t hold it past him to avoid you, either by steering clear from the places you frequent or getting on the first bus back to Seoul. 

“When he asked about how you were doing,” Jihoon says gruffly. “I thought it was just— yearning or some shit.” 

“Me, too,” Wonwoo adds. 

Yearning or shit. The words almost make you laugh. 

The pinched expression on your face prompts Wonwoo to ask, “Are you upset?” 

‘Upset’ feels like too light of a term to describe the maelstrom of emotions within you. There are facts: You wish you had known. You could have afforded to be kinder. You are afraid that you will never stop being angry. 

You answer Wonwoo’s question with a mumbled, “Would it be cliché to say that I’m just disappointed?” 

“Ah.” His face is thoughtful, understanding. “Because you expected something from him.” 

“That’s not it,” you say dryly. 

It is. 

The three of you lapse into contemplative silence. Jihoon breaks it after a couple of moments, his tone soft and serious. 

“I know it’s shitty,” he says. “But I do hope that he’s okay.” 

That would be the mature thing to do. Even Wonwoo is nodding his agreement, willing to set aside his own gripes in favor of well wishing.

You can’t bring yourself to do the same. The platitude sticks in your throat until you feel like it will suffocate you. 

--

Soonyoung has an alibi for not showing up to Teacher Kang’s post-processing session. 

You’re grateful that the elderly woman doesn’t go on about the details of his absence. She mentions something about him being busy with the holidays, and you take it in stride. 

You try not to picture the way his jaw might’ve twitched before sending out the text, before lying to get away. 

“Everybody loved the show,” Teacher Kang gushes. “I’m so proud of you, dear. I really do hope we can have Soonyoung on board more often.” 

An offhand joke of “we’ll probably be seeing a lot more of him in the near future” crosses your mind, but you hold it back. You may be calloused, but you’re not heartless. 

You nod. You agree with Teacher Kang. You hold it together, up until you’re halfway out the door and she calls you back for one last word. 

“You know,” she starts. “I remember the two of you when you were kids.”

You’d been dreading this— the inevitable trip down memory lane. You thought you had escaped it, but now you’re facing it with one of the world’s fakest smiles. 

“That was a long time ago,” you say. 

“It was.” There’s a glimmer in Teacher Kang’s eye. Something unbearably tender. “Soonyoung always made you smile a certain way. You’ve started smiling like that again. It’s nice to see.” 

You don’t know how you manage to laugh it off, to bid Teacher Kang goodbye and make your way back to your car. Your hands are shaking as you slide into the driver’s seat of your car.

The school’s parking lot is gracefully empty. It’s a good thing, because then no one can hear you as you fold in half and screech. 

You scream until your voice goes hoarse, until the windows shake. 

You scream until you can’t hear the way your chest is caving in on your heart. 

--

Your theory of running into everyone but Soonyoung is proven when you’re sooner to cross paths with Mama Kwon.

Your carts nearly collide in the pasta aisle of the grocery store. You’re already bowing, apologizing profusely, when you realize that you recognize the woman holding a can of pesto.

She says your name with the fondness that could rival your own mother’s. It takes everything in you not to bolt at the sound of it.

“What a coincidence,” she says with a tinkling laugh. 

You know in your heart of hearts that it’s exactly that. A coincidence. Still, you can’t help but think some higher power is out to get you. Call it karmic justice. 

“How have you been, Mrs. Kwon?” you ask, feeling the slight nip of not addressing the woman as you typically might. 

She notices too, if her slightly furrowed brow is any indication. She manages to rearrange her expression into something more neutral as she answers. 

“You know how the holidays are,” she says, wielding her pesto bottle in an absentminded gesture. “It’s a full house!” 

That stings. 

You’ve heard from your mother how the past couple of years, Mama Kwon would complain about her household feeling empty during the holidays. The seat at the dining table stayed vacant for the son that refused to come home. 

You don’t know how much she knows about the state of the dance studio, so you decide to play it safe. “I’m sure it is,” you say. 

The small talk is tearing you up from the inside, but you don’t want to be rude. Don’t want to be a stranger to the woman who once cared for you so deeply— who probably still cares for you, if you really thought of it. 

The question is out of you before you can hold it back. “Are you with Soonyoung?” 

What would you even do with that information? Would you have booked it if she said ‘yes, he’s right around the corner’? Would you have cried if she revealed that he headed back to the city? 

You’re not sure. 

Here’s what happens instead: A sigh nearly breaks out of you when Mama Kwon responds, “He’s in the next shop over, getting some repairs for the car. We’re meeting at Italianni's for lunch.” 

Still here, a small voice murmurs in the back of your mind. Hasn’t left for Seoul just yet. 

You shake the thought away as Mama Kwon delicately prompts, “Would you like to join us?” 

Mama Kwon is probably not inviting you solely out of politeness. She’s making the offer because she wants you to be there. She wants you to be at the same table as her family, sharing a pizza and whatever the restaurant’s special for the day is. She wants you to sit next to Soonyoung and play nice, even though you currently can’t stomach the thought of being anywhere near him. 

For some reason, it makes you want to cry. 

To lose somebody in a breakup is painful, yes. To lose all the things that came with it— like the family that you might have learned to love yourself? 

A different type of ache all together. 

Your smile is so painfully fake, almost hurting the edges of your mouth, as you try to let her down gently. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” you say. “But thank you for thinking of me.” 

For once, The Great Pretenders is met with negative reviews. 

Then again, nothing ever really escaped Mama Kwon’s scrutinizing gaze. She surveys your expression and purses her lips. You can practically see the way that the cogs turn in her brain, as if trying to decide on the response that will do the least amount of damage. 

It doesn’t matter how gentle she tries to be. The words that she eventually extends still hurt like a bitch. 

“He still talks about you a lot,” she muses. 

Oh. 

“Oh?” 

“Nothing bad,” Mama Kwon says quickly. She laughs again, smiling very much like how her son might. 

“Just—” She leans in. Your body autonomously mimics the action.

You’re reminded of being younger, of when she’d do the exact same thing to whisper you some ‘secret’. I got Soonyoung new shoes for Christmas. The car side mirror is busted because of me. I packed you extra of those choco pies you like. 

Today, she whispers, “I think he came home for you.” 

--

“Why did you come home?”

“I had a nightmare that I visited and I couldn’t recognize a thing. All the street names were different. The buildings were new. I kept running, trying to look for something familiar, and I just— I was just lost. And that sucked. This was mine once. You know?” 

“It still is.” 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It isn’t anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.” 

--

“You know, I really have missed your mother’s cooking.”

You smile ruefully at Soonyoung’s words. 

He’s digging heartily into your mother’s signature kimchi jjigae, and you have half the mind to tell him to close his mouth as he chews. Instead, you let him devour the dish. 

It had taken a little bit of masterminding to pull this off. Maybe it would’ve been easier to send Soonyoung a text of Let’s meet up, but your blasted pride was one of the last things you had left. You’d be damned if you were going to give that away, too. 

You enlisted Jihoon and Wonwoo’s help in orchestrating this, in convincing Soonyoung that he could sneak into your family restaurant undetected. Sure, the blonde had been more than a little miffed when his friends ditched him and left him with you, though his irritation was short-lived in the face of the food he had been craving for God-knows-how-long. 

“Maybe that’s because you’ve only been eating shin ramyun,” you point out. 

Soonyoung barely looks up from his bowl as he shovels more food into his mouth. “Low blow,” he says in between bites.  

You wince. “Sorry.” 

“You’re not really sorry.” 

“No, I am.” 

That drags Soonyoung’s attention away from his stew. 

His guarded expression slots right back into place, like he’s realizing you have some ulterior motive beyond feeding him. He rests his spoon against his bowl and leans back into his chair. With one eyebrow raised, he says, “This feels a lot like the lead-in to a breakup.” 

A bark of laughter escapes you. Of course Soonyoung would make a joke like that. 

You reach into your pocket until you’ve found what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you slide it across the table until it’s resting by Soonyoung’s hand.

“I’ll give you a discount,” you tell him. “But only, like, fifteen percent. Anything more than that is just pushing it.” 

Your calling card stares up at him. It bears your name along with your firm’s address, your phone number, and your title. Consumer bankruptcy lawyer. 

Even now, Soonyoung can’t help but be expressive. His wide eyes are fixed on the card you’ve laid out. For a moment, your offer hangs in precious balance, but you don’t have a single urge to take it back. It’s entirely, wholly for Soonyoung to take. 

He asks the question that you know is coming. “Why are you doing this?” he says, his words like a raw nerve. 

You almost smile. Almost. 

In the past week that you’ve mulled it over, you’ve reached at least a dozen different answers. 

Because Jihoon and Wonwoo worry about you.

Because it’s the right thing to do. 

Because Teacher Kang talks about you like you hung the stars and the moon. 

Because I owe you one. 

Because I don’t want you to let Mama Kwon down.

Because I’ve missed you, and I want you to be happy, even if that happiness has nothing to do with me. 

The answer that eventually, finally comes to you is none of the above. 

You simply say, “Because you’re my favorite ex.” 

--

The call asking for your help never comes. 

A couple of days after that lunch, you find something on your desk. Your calling card. 

If it weren’t for one small thing, you would’ve thought that it was a stray card of yours that you’d forgotten. But then you catch sight of a doodle in one corner right before you’re about to tuck the card away in your closet. 

A crude drawing of a tiger, with crescent-shaped eyes and a toothy smile. 

You instantly know what it means. Sure enough, you hear from Jihoon that same evening. 

Kwon Soonyoung has left as quietly as he arrived. 

There is relief. There is regret. How you feel ultimately doesn’t matter, because you knew it would always come to this— a choice being made.

He left. You stayed. 

The world spins madly on. 

The last of the snow is melting on an unassuming Tuesday afternoon when your phone pings in your pocket. You fish it out to find two texts from an unknown number. The first is a link to a news article. 

You’re suspicious, but curiosity always did kill the cat. The article loads and fills your screen.

Eye of the Tiger Dance Studio To Start Offering Child-Friendly Dance Lessons

By: Xu Minghao

SEOUL, South Korea – Eye of the Tiger Dance Studio, founded by renowned choreographer and performer Kwon Soonyoung, better known as HOSHI, is expanding its mission to inspire a new generation of dancers. The studio announced it will officially begin offering child-friendly dance lessons following a successful pilot program last month.

Parents and young aspiring dancers can look forward to the official launch of child-friendly lessons early next year. According to HOSHI, the initiative aims to “nurture the joy of dance from an early age and build a foundation for self-expression and confidence.”

The studio piloted its first all-children dance classes in January, offering a creative and supportive environment for young dancers to explore movement. The program’s success has led to an upcoming showcase featuring the children at the KB Art Hall in Gangnam. 

HOSHI, celebrated for his innovative choreography and passion for dance, revealed the inspiration behind this new direction. 

“There was a time I felt lost, like I had lost my purpose for dance,” HOSHI shared, reflecting on a challenging period in his career. “I was going through the motions, using dance as a way to distract myself from everything else, rather than embracing it as a part of who I am.” 

“But I realized something important recently,” he goes on. “Dance shouldn’t be an escape or a vacation. It should be a homecoming.” 

And that’s exactly what they hope to do with their upcoming showcase. Details on the event can be found here. 

The second text bears only a couple of words, but it changes the ending of everything.

There’s only one seat that will matter in that auditorium, it reads.

Please make sure it’s not empty. 

--

“Why did you come home?” 

"Your Majesty, your carriage is here." Your chambermaid came up beside you.

"Do I have to go?" you said, only half sarcastically.

"I'm afraid so, my Lady." She nodded. "But I will be with you every step of the way."

Most of the servants in the castle had left because you simply did not have the means to keep them around. Nevertheless, you had insisted on keeping Eunji around. She was the closest thing you had to a best friend, after all.

"I wish my father could be here..." You sighed as you followed after Eunji.

"We all wish he could be here." She nodded solemnly. "I think he would be very proud of your decision."

The Prince of the neighboring kingdom had offered his hand in marriage, despite your empire being in ruins after your father's sudden death. Everyone was joyous over the occasion, except you. There had never been enough time for you to think of marriage or love in any capacity, but you knew that you didn't just want to do it for an advantage. However, Eunji was right - your father would have been proud. He had repeatedly told you that he trusted you to be a good ruler and to do what is right for the people. This was right for the people, so at least you had one reason you could justify the situation with.

The ride there was long and treacherous, nothing like you had ever experienced before. You frequently used to ride horseback with your father, much to your mother's dismay. To see you sitting pretty in one of your finest gowns in a carriage brought her the utmost delight. It wasn't like you hadn't ever dreamed of doing these things, but you never found yourself doing so.

"You really do look lovely, darling," she said.

She was a kind soul, your mother, but she never understood you much. It wasn't her fault, of course, and after your father's passing, she had tried to accommodate more to your needs, as had you to her.

"You've said that already, mother," you said whilst giving her a small smile.

"Oh, I know..." She sighed. "I'm just restless..."

Of course, she was restless. If she weren't restless it would provoke you even further. However, you knew she wasn't solely restless. She was excited. She was excited because you had picked your clothes yourself without her having to ask you to wear something nice. That only happened on extraordinarily special occasions, although you must admit it felt nice to look pretty.

"... thank you.", you looked out the window to avoid her sympathetic smile.

The moment you told her of your plans to marry, she cried tears of joy. Partly because she was so happy for you. Furthermore, because she knew the kingdom would be saved. Outside the window, autumn had begun to take its toll on the poor trees. No longer green, they had taken on an orange color. Although it was beautiful, you knew that in a few weeks the orange would turn brown and that the trees' destinies were to turn into lifeless husks of the beautiful bloom that spring had brought them. Nobody questions the cruel cycle of the seasons because we have grown attached to them, it is the natural way of things.

However, the seasons are purely a transaction. If it is true, as the ancients say, that every spring Persephone leaves Hades' side in the Underworld, then it is a trade between the King of the Underworld and the human race. We get to live with Persephone's beauty for half a year, and then we experience the same cold that Hades feels once his Queen leaves his side. The tale is tragic and has been adapted into many forms of storytelling. But, nobody ever asks how Persephone feels. Her body is used by both the people and the man she loves as pristine goods. She is torn: should she stay with the man she loves or should she help her people? This compromise between Hades and the people may seem like an acceptable prospect, however, every winter people are still hurting, and every spring Hades cries tears of sorrow and loneliness. The agreement brings equal pleasure for both parties, but it also brings equal pain. And let's not forget the Queen, who hurts no matter what she does.

"We're almost here, darling," your mother interrupts your thoughts, and you are forced to drag your attention away from the trees.

"Indeed we are," you hummed as you saw the castle, your new home, in the distance.

The castle had a homely look with many rounded corners. It gave you the impression that it wanted to look less intimidating than it was. Yet the towers still stood tall, and the large windows seemed to glare back at you - like the soul speaks through the eyes of a person. Your new family was inside, waiting for you in the King's throne room.

"Are you ready, my darling?" Your mother came up beside you.

"Certainly." You nodded, keeping your gaze fixated on the mesmerizing marble structure.

The large wooden doors opened for you as you walked up the steps, and, even inside, it seemed lovely. If you could, you would've taken a moment to appreciate the amount of art on the walls, not to mention the mural on the roof. There was no time. You could only walk past it. You came to a second large wooden door. You heard your name being presented on the other side. When the doors opened, you were almost blinded. Not only did the room have big ceiling windows decorated with golden arches, but the room was also almost entirely filled with mirrors on the walls. Instinctively, you straightened your back as soon as you saw your reflection. In front of you sat King Jeon, lonely on his golden throne. You thought of Hades again and that maybe this is just what he looked like. The man was huge, much bigger than you had ever imagined, and had a large grey beard. His crown sat perfectly on his head. From it, his grey hair was cascading down his shoulders. Once you were just a few feet away from him, you courtesied and bowed in respect. The King stood up from his throne and walked toward you. Never had you imagined that he would reach his hand out for you to try to shake it. Yet, he did, and you took his hand in yours. His hand was calloused and felt as if it was as large as your entire forearm.

"My condolences for your father´s passing, Princess," he said with a sincerity and kindness that you would never have expected from his appearance.

His voice was deep and burly, and it reminded you of thunder. As you peered up at him, you couldn't believe his size. You had never seen a person this tall before.

"Thank you, your Majesty," you said, trying to keep your voice strong.

"I am glad that such a strong woman such as yourself could take over his place," he said. "Your father spoke very highly of you whenever we met."

"He spoke highly of you as well, your Majesty." You smiled at him, politely yet genuinely.

"That's very kind of you to say." His smile was also surprisingly kind. "Now, I'm sure that you're hungry, I'll show you to the dining hall and then I'll have the servants show you to your rooms. We can talk of business tomorrow."

The King gave you another warm smile and nodded to your mother as a greeting. You had never gotten to experience what it was like to live as a ruler. Instead, you had always found yourself in the position your mother was in now - ignored until the last seconds of the meeting. Still, your mother's smile shined brightly at you when you turned to follow the King out of his throne room. As you left you caught a glimpse of yourself in one of the mirrors that surrounded you. Deep dark circles framed your eyes, you could hardly recognize yourself. Now you understood why the King wanted to take the business part of your first meeting in the morning.

You and your mother ate by yourselves. The rest of the Jeon family was already fast asleep, the King told you. As soon as you finished eating you were led to your room. When you tried asking for Eunji, they told you that she had taken her place in the servants' quarters already. They asked if they should wake her for you, but you declined and let another servant undress you for the night.

Your room was round, much like the architecture outside. It must be in one of the many towers, you took a mental note to ask for a guide of the castle's many rooms as soon as possible. The bed was in the middle of the room, and there was a small vanity table prepared for you, as well as a wardrobe and a partition wall for you to get dressed behind. The room's wallpaper gave the illusion of looking like velvet, and the dark red color accommodates nicely with the golden details. Most importantly, at one end of the room, there was a door leading to a balcony that overlooked the garden. Outside the glass doors, you saw the most peculiar thing: flowers in bloom during autumn. The servant took off your outer layers for you and was about to leave you to take care of the rest yourself, leaving your nightgown on the bed.

"Excuse me..." you said before they could leave. "How can there be flowers in bloom in the garden? It's late autumn already."

"These flowers last until the frost starts to come in. The Queen likes to keep as much color in her garden for as long as she can," one of the servant explained.

"Oh... thank you," you said. "You may leave now."

The servant bowed and left you alone. You approached the glass doors, more of the flowers appearing in front of you. They had a vibrant purple and magenta color. It was late, but you just had to take a closer look. You opened the doors to the balcony and stepped out. It was cold, and the wind flew right through the thin material of your dress. Without the extra layers, the cold was much more prominent. But you didn't mind, instead, you leaned a bit further over the edge of the balcony to look closer at the flowers.

"Maybe Persephone left a piece of herself in this garden..." You sighed.

"You should go back inside," you heard a voice say from below you.

You quickly backed away from the balcony with a small shriek. It had merely surprised you to hear a voice in the dark, you weren't necessarily scared. In fact, you were intrigued - so you approached the edge again. In the garden stood a tall man with dark black hair. He was wearing all black: black pants, a black nightshirt, and black shoes. Of course you hadn't seen him.

"Who are you?" you asked, "Why are you outside my window?"

"I didn't mean to be outside your window," he said, ignoring your first question. "I like to visit the garden when the moon is out."

You looked up, seeing a slither of a moon there. A new moon. It didn't bring much light, but it was enough to look over the garden - especially combined with the light coming from the candles in your room. Looking back at the man, you smiled.

"So you visit the garden every night?" you asked.

"Only when there is a moon," he answered.

"Then I will see you again soon," you said.

"You might." He spoke wearily. "Is that something you would like?"

"I would. You seem mysterious. I like mysteries."

He let out a laugh, and you thought that you could hear the bells ringing. Like a silver spoon softly striking a crystal glass, that's what his laugh made you feel. Elegant and light. You wanted oh so desperately to hear it again.

"I heard you speak of Persephone before. Are you interested in Greek mythology?" he asked.

"Only a little," you said truthfully. "I had a few books about it as a child. The story of Persephone stuck out to me."

"It's a bit romantic, I suppose."

"It's tragic," you corrected him.

"How is it tragic?" he asked with an amused smile. "Because of the kidnapping?"

"Well, even if we look past the kidnapping it is still tragic," you said. "She doesn't get to choose. Ever. The most she got to choose was when she ate the pomegranate. Other than that, it is decided for her that she has to travel between worlds. It is tragic because every autumn and spring she has to leave something important to her."

"Isn't it the best option? For both Hades and the people?"

"No." You shake your head. "I would've wanted to choose one of the two. Either having to give up my dearest, or to give up my people. Otherwise, I would have to go through the same pain every time I have to leave. While also, may I add, knowing that they are in pain as well."

"You would damn the world to an eternal winter to be with someone you love? Or break someone's heart to give the people eternal spring?" His eyebrows furrowed. "Isn't it selfish?"

"What isn't selfish?" You laughed, not because it was particularly funny but because it felt like such an obvious answer. "Every action we take is selfish, whether we realize it or not."

"How depressing of a thought," he said. "You don't think people can do selfless good?"

"I think people can try," you said. "Trying is wonderful, in fact, but I don't think anyone can ever succeed."

"You have a peculiar mind," the man muttered with a small smile playing on his lips.

"So I have been told," you said. "... do you know the name of these flowers?"

"It's Phlox." He leaned down and picked a flower from the bushes, "It's a Greek word, actually. It means flame."

You watched as he looked around, and then took a sprung up your balcony. It wasn't high up from the ground, so he easily climbed up just enough to hand you the flower he had picked. You leaned over the edge of the marble railing, looking down at him. Now that you could see him better, you took time to appreciate his sculpted features and piercing eyes.

"Thank you," you mumbled and accepted the flower.

"My Lady." He bowed his head slightly before jumping down. "I wish you a good night's sleep."

"Goodnight," you said and watched as the stranger walked away, back into the castle.

When you woke up the morning after it was because someone was pulling your blinds aside, allowing the sun to rudely startle you awake.

"Good morning, Princess," Eunji greeted as cheerily as ever.

"Good morning..." You sighed. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept very well, my Lady." She smiled brightly at you. "They are all so nice here. We had a wonderful time at breakfast. Oh, and speaking of breakfast. The King has called you to come eat breakfast with them. The entire family will be there this time."

"Right..." You groaned and sat up. "Did I bring any good gowns for this occasion?"

"You certainly did, my Lady." Eunji happily walked over to your dresser and pulled out a light blue dress with poofy sleeves. "This is quite romantic, is it not? Perfect for your first time meeting the Prince."

The Prince. Prince Jeon Sungho. Your future husband. A sigh escaped your lips at the thought... and your mind couldn't help but drift to the man from the other night. What if it was Sungho? He never said his name, and with his beauty, he could definitely be a prince. You straightened your back and turned to Eunji with a polite expression on your face.

"I'll use that one then," you said and got out of bed.

Seeing the castle in the daylight further gave you the impression that it was built to look welcoming. The windows were big, now with the daylight they no longer looked hollow, and the walls were light in color. It was such a drastic difference from the man you had seen last night. If it truly was the Prince, then he was a walking contradiction.

Eunji only left your side once you made it to the door of the dining room. When the doors open your nose was flooded with an amazing smell. Fresh bread, vanilla, and all kinds of fruity smells - anything that would make your mouth water. You were starving.

"Ah, Princess Y/N, you made it," the King said from his place at the end of the table.

"I'm sorry for my late arrival," you said and made your way to an empty seat.

Before you could sit down, a man in front of you stood up. For a moment you thought it was the man from last night, but his eyes were different - they weren't as piercing - and he had a wider jaw. And unlike the man from last night, his hair was perfectly slicked back.

"I am Prince Sungho, my Princess," he said softly. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"It is very good to meet you, Prince Sungho," you said and tried your best not to seem disappointed.

The two of you bowed your heads as you sat down. His eyes were constantly on you, you could feel them practically burning into your skin. You didn't return his gaze. It wasn't because he wasn't handsome enough, he was very handsome, but he wasn't the man from last night. It made you question who the stranger truly was.

"Sungho has suggested that we go out for a ride after breakfast," the Queen piped up. "Hopefully, my other son will be able to join us then."

"You have another son?" your mother, who was seated next to you, asked.

"Oh yes, we do," the King said with a proud smile. "He's a bit more bashful than his brother, so he didn't join us for breakfast. Although, if you ask him - he will say that he was feeling sick."

"Do you think that a ride would be agreeable, Lady Y/N?" Sungho asked you.

His eyes were still burning into you, and it was almost difficult to return his gaze. Yet you forced yourself to do so with a pleasant smile. Now wasn't the time to make enemies with sly remarks.

"Oh, yes. I think that sounds lovely." You nodded.

The second son of the Jeon family was nowhere to be seen when you got to the stables. You had changed into more appropriate clothing for riding, which Sungho took note of.

"So it's not just the clothes that make my Lady so beautiful," he said with a charming smile.

"I guess not." You looked down at your clothes and then back up at him. "Thank you, Prince Sungho."

The Prince was handsome, kind, and loved to hear your opinion on many different topics. You found yourself drawn to him because of this. During the ride he showed great gentlemanship, helping you on and off your horse, and he matched his riding pace to fit yours. He was all a woman could ever dream of... yet you found yourself thinking of the mystery man from last night. The way his piercing gaze seemed to look into your soul, or the way his fingertips touched your hand when he gave you that flower that was still on your bedside table. You had thoroughly enjoyed the banter the two of you made, and not in the same way you could appreciate the way the Prince spoke.

Once the evening came you were excited to see him again. However, during the day dark clouds had started coming in over the horizon. It was raining heavily and the moon was nowhere in sight. You remembered his words: "I like to visit the garden when the moon is out". A sigh escaped your lips as you sat down on your bed.

"Is everything alright, my Lady?" Eunji asked.

"Oh, I'm just fine..." You turned to her with a sudden need to tell someone about the handsome stranger. "Could you... perhaps keep a secret for me, Eunji?"

"Of course, my Lady."

She sat down on the bed beside you, as she had many nights before this. Eunji was as close as you had to a friend, and you always told her everything. You trusted her, and you had to tell someone of the man.

"Yesterday evening I was out on the balcony...", you paused and looked at her, "I saw this man there... dark hair, tall... handsome."

The rain started pouring outside as you told Eunji of the man. A constant smile was on Eunji's lips, clearly happy about you speaking of a potential love interest. It wasn't something you had done in the past, as you never bothered with it before. You thought you had your whole life ahead of you to deal with romance.

"I thought it might be the Prince," you said which only made Eunji's smile grow wider. "... but it wasn't. While they were similar, he just... it wasn't the same."

"Oh..." Her smile quickly faded. "I shouldn't advise you to have affections toward anyone but the Prince... but you seem very intrigued by this mysterious gentleman."

"I am, but it won't get in the way of my marriage. I promise." You let out a breath that you hadn't realized you had been holding in, "I have gone too far to screw this up for a man I met once."

Your eyes wandered to the window, where the rain was still falling heavily. Eunji put her hand on top of yours, showing her support silently.

"I just needed to tell someone of what had happened." You look back at her with a warm smile. "I cannot tell you how happy I am that you would listen."

"Of course, my Lady," she said.

"I probably just got excited to talk to someone," you reassured yourself. "There's not much else to it."

Eunji left your side to blow out all the candles in your room. You thanked her and bid her goodnight before she left. Laying in your bed, listening to the rainfall, and praying that you would never see the man again.

The doors to the dining room opened and you stepped inside. Unlike the day before, you were fairly early. Only the King, the Queen, and your mother were in the room.

"Good morning," you said as you walked insid. "If I may, I would like to start presenting ideas of what we could do for the kingdom's-"

The door opened yet again. You turned around expecting your arranged fiancé but were met with another familiar face. The stranger from the garden. He looked at you, and you could tell he recognized you, but he kept quiet.

"Ah, finally!" the Queen stood up and motioned for the man in front of you. "This is my second son, Prince Wonwoo. Wonwoo, darling, this is Princess Y/N - your brother's fiancé."

Your mouth fell into a small "o" shape as you looked between the two. Without hesitation, Wonwoo's face fell into a polite smile as he reached to shake your hand. Unlike just a second ago, there was no recognition for you in his eyes.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my Lady," he said and kissed the back of your hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you before, I wasn't feeling well. Although, I am in much better condition now."

You could hear the King chuckle behind you, supposedly at the fact that Wonwoo claimed that he was ill. His hand was warm in yours, and you wish he hadn't let go just yet.

"The pleasure's all mine, your Majesty," you said and hoped that you didn't look all too flustered, "You missed a very nice ride yesterday."

"So I have heard," he said. "My brother told me all about it."

As if on cue, the door opened again and Prince Sungho stepped in. Everyone greeted him a good morning, and you sadly had to watch Wonwoo walk away. He sat on the other side of the table, diagonally from you.

"So you wanted to speak of plans, Y/N," the King said suddenly. "Please, do enlighten me."

During breakfast you told the King of the plans you had to make your kingdom blossom once again, which would in turn help their kingdom after your marriage was set in stone. Wonwoo's eyes were on you at all times, and whenever you would glance over at him you would stumble over your words. You didn't mean to, there was just something about him that made your heart race.

As soon as breakfast ended, Wonwoo was out the door. You didn't even have time to say goodbye. Sungho was quick to step in front of you, hindering you from following the younger prince.

"I heard nobody's given you a tour of the castle yet." He held out his arm to you. "May I have the honor of doing so myself?"

You looked back at your mother, who was giving you a supportive smile, then back at Sungho. His eyes were much warmer than his brother's. At the thought of Wonwoo, you glanced over to the door he left through. Maybe you would see him again if you took this tour.

"You may." You nodded and met his eyes once again.

"You've seen the throne room," he said as you walked through the mirror-filled room.

"Why the mirrors, if I may ask?" you said.

"It makes the room look bigger." He looked around. "I suppose one could also always know who's behind one's back with these mirrors."

A hum echoed from your mouth as you looked around. Sungho had been showing you around the castle. A quick visit to the servant's quarters, a look into the kitchen, the garden, the King's study, the drawing room, and many many staircases. Now you were back where you had started your story in this castle.

"Would you like to see the ballroom?" he asked and placed his hand over yours, which was still hanging on his arm.

"I would love to." You gave him a polite smile.

The two of you walked across the King's throne room and through a grand door. In there was a big round room, the biggest room in the castle you were sure. The roof was tall and painted with beautiful images of angels and knights and other such things that one would paint on a ceiling. Surrounding the area were big pillars, on which leaned a smaller balcony of sorts. There was a small staircase to go up there.

"It's gorgeous," you said. "I can only imagine the festivities you could hold in here."

"Does my Lady like dancing?" Sungho asked.

"I do." You nodded. "Although I won't say I'm very good at it."

"Nonsense." Sungho chuckled. "I'm sure you're as good as you are beautiful."

You only smiled at him, for you had nothing to say back.

"This is the room furthest from the garden and your room in the West wing," he commented. "So if there is a ball you can be sure that you will get the least amount of disturbance."

"What else is in the West wing?" you asked.

"Well, there's the library." He pondered for a bit. "There's not much else in the West wing. We call it the quiet wing for a reason. That's why it's the best bedroom in the castle."

"You have a library in the West wing?" You almost gaped at him.

"Yes of course." He nodded. "Would you like me to show you?"

"I would like that very much, your Majesty."

As you walked through the corridors together you tried mapping all the rooms out in your head. On one end there was your room, and this supposed library you had only just heard about, and on the other end was the ballroom. Outside the ballroom seemed to be another garden, or a labyrinth of sorts, which you were told could lead you to the West wing's garden. How, you couldn't understand quite yet. The servants' hall was under the dining room area, which was accessed through a well-hidden door. The King's throne room was quite central to the castle, and in the North wing were most of the bedrooms.

When you reached the library, Sungho opened the door for you. You basically flew into the room. Books were filling all of the bookshelves, which were as tall as the entire walls.

"I take it that you like this room," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh, more than any other room," you said silently and walked up to one of the bookshelves to look at the books.

Rustling was heard from beside you, and you snapped your head in the direction of the noise. Wonwoo walked out from behind one of the bookshelves. He bowed his head at you.

"It's my favorite room too," he said quietly with a peculiar smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, I was just looking for a book."

He held up a purple book. The young prince looked as handsome as ever. His hair was messy, but pushed away from his eyes, and his clothes weren't exactly smooth down either. Nevertheless, Prince Wonwoo looked like a dream - like a man from one of the fairytales you used to read as a child, or at least he looked like you had always imagined them to look. You could only stare at him with wide eyes, at a loss for all words. Surely he must find you absolutely idiotic.

"It's alright, brother," Sungho answered for you. "We are just looking around the castle."

"Ah... then you've been in the ballroom, I suppose." He looked back at you. "It's really beautiful."

"It certainly is," you managed to get out.

Wonwoo was smiling at you, but his eyes were still so piercing. You couldn't read him whatsoever. He excused himself and left the room. You had to force yourself to not look after him as he stepped away. Once you heard the door close, you turned to Sungho with a bright, plastered on smile and asked him to keep showing you around.

Later that evening, you got ready for bed. When Eunji had left, you practically leaped out on the balcony in nothing but your silky, pale pink nightgown. The moon was out, and you could hear someone whistling. You opened the glass doors, hearing it much clearer now. Your heart started racing as you stepped out onto the cold stone.

"The Lady returns," he said as you walked out. "I thought I had frightened you the other night."

"The moon wasn't out yesterday," you replied. "I thought you wouldn't be here."

"I left once the rain started pouring down," he said casually. "So you're the Princess, huh?"

"I would have told you, but you wouldn't tell me who you were," you said as you leaned against the marble. "Prince Wonwoo."

He finally looked at you, only to quickly look away again. There was a small smile playing on his lips, and his ears had turned an adorable shade of pink.

"You should put something else on." He took a deep breath. "It's not proper... and you're going to catch a cold."

"I'm not staying out here for long." You shrugged with a teasing smile.

"You're not?" He glanced at you, a slightly worried tone in his voice.

Oh. This isn't good. Your heart was pounding in your chest now. The little power of the conversation you felt like you had was now completely gone.

"I mean..." You sighed, "I shouldn't be out here so late at night. You should go inside too."

He looked at you and everything around you just seemed to disappear. Only he was still there, and as he started approaching the balcony, much like the other night, you didn't utter a word to stop him. As he neared you hoped that he could finally close the gap filled with meaningless air between you. His hands gripped the edge of the balcony, right in between where your hands were resting. When he pulled himself up you stood face to face. You had never been this close to him before. He smelled of lavender and something dark and woody. His eyes were still strictly looking into yours, piercing through your soul. He opened his mouth to speak, and you looked down at his lips.

"I do not wish to cause you mental turmoil, but I must tell you that the moment I laid eyes on you that night I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen." He spoke quietly and sincerely, as if he was afraid to say it any louder. "And if the situation had been different I wouldn't hesitate to try to win your affection. I waited for you in the rain last night, wishing that I could get another glimpse of you, to hear your voice again."

You sucked in a sharp breath and looked back into his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes. There was something so thrilling about having him so near, about him confessing his undying attraction to you. Your head was completely fogged up, you didn't know what you were doing, but your hands cupped his face and kissed him. He tasted sweet and reinvigorated, it reminded you of a lemon pie - the tart energizing flavor that never seemed to leave your mouth. His lips were soft and moved against yours with a slow, burning passion. Your hands traveled down to his collar, just to try to bring him a bit closer. But Wonwoo pulled away, his face one of horror as if he had just found something so very wrong.

"We shouldn't be doing this..." he murmured. "I am so terribly sorry."

You tried to stop him, to grab him, and tell him that no one had to know; anything to get him close to you again. He didn't listen. With fleeting footsteps, he left the garden. You looked over at the flowers. The weather had started growing colder, and with it came the frost. Much like you, the purple flowers in the garden had started withering away.

The next morning you asked Eunji to get you breakfast in bed and to tell the household that you weren't feeling well. You couldn't bare to come across Wonwoo again. Even if you looked past your embarrassment, you didn't want to see him again knowing that you could never hold him as you had last night.

After breakfast, you put on a robe over your nightgown and made your way to the library. The weather was beautiful today, and you heard from Eunji that the family was going out for a walk in the nearby forest. That meant the castle was yours to wander in theory, but you only wanted to visit the library. As you walked in there, your eyes immediately landed on a singular book laying on a table. There was a couch near the table, and you took a seat and started reading. It wasn't anything interesting, only a book about some old war, but it was enough to distract you.

The door to the library opened and you locked eyes with Wonwoo. Your eyes widened as you quickly pulled your robe tighter around your chest. One of his hands was still on the door handle, the other one hanging by his side. You watched his hand grip around nothing before letting his fingers fall. Neither of you spoke, you only watched each other. Footsteps echoed outside the door, and you heard your name being called by someone. Wonwoo ran to you, pulling you aside and in between two bookshelves. You were shielded from the view from the door. Wonwoo's arms were tightly wrapped around your waist, your chest pressed against his. Still, neither of you spoke. You looked up at him with big, worried eyes. He swallowed and looked away from you. The library door opened.

"My Lady? Are you in there?" It was Sungho. "... strange. Brother? Are you in here?"

Wonwoo shut his eyes tightly in annoyance. Of course, his brother had seen him walk in here. He motioned for you to stay quiet, and left you alone to greet his brother.

"I'm right here." He cleared his throat. "But I haven't seen the Princess."

"Her chambermaid said she would be here..." Sungho trailed off. "Maybe she was mistaken. If you see her, please tell her that I'm looking for her."

"Of course."

The library door shut. You were left feeling breathless. For a moment, you didn't dare move - the thought of meeting Sungho's eyes after his brother had just lied for you was enough to make you shiver. After a deep breath, you stepped out from in between the bookcases. When you turned around Wonwoo was right in front of you again.

"Do you always parade yourself around in such indecent clothing?" he hissed at you.

"Excuse me? You forget yourself," you answered quickly.

"What? Did you think I would walk in here and take you on the couch? Is that what you wanted?" Wonwoo's eyes were fiery, but you couldn't tell if it was out of anger or lust. "Is that why you're in nothing but your nightgown yet again?"

"I was informed that everyone had left the castle," you said sternly. "I wouldn't go out of my room otherwise, especially not like this."

Wonwoo quieted down, clearly flustered by his earlier assumption. You were left feeling like your heart would beat out of your chest. Truly, you didn't know what had happened to you. Any logic left in you had flown out the window, now replaced with attraction for the man in front of you.

"... about last night-" you started but you were quickly cut off by Wonwoo.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He grabbed your hand, and his touch sent magic running through your veins. "As I said if the situation was different..."

His eyes trailed down your face to your lips, then down your neck, to your collar bones, until they ended at your exposed chest when he reminded himself to look you back in the eye.

"My Lord-"

"I am not a Lord," he murmured and cradled your cheek in his palm.

"My Prince..." You leaned into his touch.

"Just call me Wonwoo," he said. "Let's stop with the formalities. I don't want to be a prince with you."

His hand was so warm and soft. You pressed your hand to the back of his, just to bring it even closer to your cheek. As you peered up at him through your lashes you saw how his breathing hitched. Sadly, you had to let go of him. Your hands removed the one that he held to your cheek, and you dropped your arms back to your sides.

"Prince Wonwoo..." you said despite his request. "I think you're right. This can't be. Besides, isn't it foolish to act on feelings toward a person you've only just met?"

"I suppose..." Wonwoo looked away from you to hide his disappointment. "But I do not feel like I have only just met you, Princess."

"It does not make it any less wrong," you murmured.

His gaze returned to meet yours. Fireworks set off in your stomach, and you wanted to touch him again. You wished you had never made him let go. This couldn't possibly be wrong if it felt so good.

"Let's be good friends," you managed to say.

"I think I can manage." He smiled.

Oh, his smile was so wonderful. It made you feel like you were taking in a fresh breath of air during a chilly summer morning. You wanted to reach up and touch his face, cup his cheek, and gently swipe your thumb over his cheekbone. Every fiber of your being told you to lean in and kiss him, everything except your principles.

"To good friends." You held out your hand for him to shake.

"Good friends." He took it.

Autumn passed, and in came winter. Most nights you would sit by a big fireplace in the drawing room. The only big problem with the Quiet wing was its lack of places to put fires. Whenever you would go to sleep, you would put on at least two layers of clothing and have extra blankets. The balcony was always closed now, though you had many times thought of visiting Wonwoo out there. He was acting normally around you, although you could feel him watching you when he thought you couldn't notice. Your method was working out just fine.

Snowy days pass and you grow closer to Prince Sungho. One evening you're sitting in the drawing room, in front of the fireplace, when he walks in. You watch as he approaches you. It's only the two of you in the room. He seems nervous.

"I really am embarrassed that your room doesn't have proper heating," he said for what must have been the hundredth time. "The offer of changing rooms still stands, whenever you want to."

"You're too kind, Prince Sungho." You smile at him before turning back to the fire. "But I quite like my room, and it's not all that horrible... I also have a reason to come in here every evening, where I may see you."

The Prince was surprised by your flirtatious advances, as he always was. You patted on the couch right next to you, asking him to sit down. At this point, you know just what to say and do to make him weak in the knees. Which you had been using to your advantage. With the attention of a man such as Prince Sungho, you cannot possibly begin to think about Wonwoo. Even if it didn't feel real, even if it all felt like you were playing pretend with your fiancé.

"I have loved to have you here," the Prince said as he sat down. "Truly, it has been a gift."

"I have loved to be here," you responded.

"... but I have yet to do the thing that I promised." He pulled out a small box from his pocket. "I know that I've offered my hand in marriage to you already, but I want it to be official. I want everyone to know."

He opens the box and reveals a diamond ring. With his slim fingers, he picks it up. You smile widely and put your hand in his. His eyes ask you for your permission, and you nod. Slowly, he pushes the ring onto your left ring finger.

"It's beautiful," you hum and watch the diamond sparkle in the light of the fire.

"It's one of a kind," he muses. "Just like you."

You can't help but think of Wonwoo. How his eyes sparkled just like this diamond the night he had kissed you. But when you look up at the man in front of you, it's not Wonwoo, and you have to face reality.

"We should start planning for the wedding," you muttered.

"Soon, my love." He holds your face in his hands. "I want to celebrate you first. We shall throw a ball in your honor."

"My honor?"

"In honor of our official engagement, then." He gave you a toothy smile, the kind of boyish smile that would make any girl swoon. "After that, I will give you all the resources to plan a wedding... I'll find the best people in the land."

You wondered what Sungho truly knew about you. How could he be so infatuated with a person whom he's only spoken to in person for a few months? How can he promise you everything when you still see a stranger when you look at him? You thanked him and stood up from your place by the fireplace. He looked up at you with admiration, something that you cannot give back to him.

"I think I will go to my chambers, it's late," you said.

"Sleep well, my Lady." Sungho watched you as you left the room.

After a few weeks, an entire ball had been planned and executed. It was the day of the big night. The evening would start with the King announcing your official engagement, and let the guests celebrate with a night full of wine and dancing. A group of maids had brought you a dress, a present from the Queen. The corset top sat tightly on your torso. The sweetheart neckline accentuated your collarbone area and the puffy, short sleeves gave it a romantic look. Flower prints in lace covered the top elegantly and subtly, which contrasted the many chiffon layers of the skirt. At first glance, the dress looked white, but it was in fact a light lilac color. As the maids helped you put it on, one of them gave you a note from the Queen herself.

I heard you liked the purple flowers in my garden, so this will suit you well.

Your body froze. Only two people knew of your fondness of the garden: Eunji and Wonwoo. If Eunji had told her, she would've asked you first. Maybe the Queen had asked her not to tell, to make it a surprise... but if Wonwoo had said something it would be suspicious. Either way, you couldn't be worrying about this now.

"Everything is done, Princess," one of the maids said in a soft-spoken tone.

"Thank you." You did your best to smile at her.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt like crying. You should be jumping with glee at this moment in your life, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. A night which was supposed to be about your engagement to the Prince, and so far you had spent most of it worrying about another man. You knew he would be there, and your mind had immediately wandered to what he would think of you - if he would find you beautiful. This was all so wrong.

They announced your name before you entered the ballroom. Whispers and gasps echoed through the large room as you walked towards the King and his oldest son. The King offered you his hand, which you took, and let him guide you to hold Sungho's hand. You looked out over the crowd, meeting star-struck and emotional faces. More importantly, you met Wonwoo's piercing gaze. As the King held a short speech in the engagement's honor, you never looked away from Wonwoo. Unlike his brother, he was wearing all black. His suit was lined with golden details, and a few golden rings adorned his fingers. He had a cape hanging over one shoulder, and he wore a pair of well-polished boots. In a crowd full of white-clad people, he stood out like a sore thumb. You wanted to tease him about dressing wrong for the occasion, but that would be too close to flirting.

"That is why I am happy to announce the engagement of my oldest son, Prince Sungho, and the lovely Princess Y/N. You have my blessing, and I know that this union will be a wonderful one." The King brought you back to your senses as he mentioned your name. "To the happy couple! Let's celebrate!"

"Would you like to dance, my Lady?" Sungho whispered in your ear as the two of you walked out on the dancefloor.

You're already leading me there, it would just be awkward to say no now...

"I would love to." You put on your best smile and got into position.

The crowd watched as you danced. After a minute, others joined in but you saw Wonwoo still leaning against one of the pillars. You locked eyes, and you couldn't look away.

"You seem distracted, my Lady," Sungho said.

"Oh, I'm just... as I've told you, I'm not very good at dancing. I guess I'm just nervous." You looked back at him.

"Don't worry, when you're in my hands you're safe."

"I'm sure." You nodded and looked past him again, but now Wonwoo was gone.

The song ended, and Sungho eventually left your side to talk to some of his friends. You were left standing alone in a corner. Now that the announcement had been made and people had paraded you around, nobody seemed to care where you went. A sigh escaped your lips as you relaxed against the cold wall.

"Tired already?" Someone appeared beside you.

When you saw him your eyes widened, and you felt your cheeks grow warm. Wonwoo had looked good from afar, but this close he was truly a sight to behold.

"It's alright, I also usually keep to myself at these kinds of things," he added.

"My fiancé just left me to talk to other people, and there's no one for me to speak with," you explained.

"You can talk to me." He gave you a delicate smile.

"... it's not weird for you?" you murmured.

"Of course it is. But not a day goes by where my life is normal or goes my way. You get used to it." He held out his hand to you. "Am I worthy enough to dance with you, Princess?"

"People will see." you looked out over the ballroom, nobody had seen you just yet.

"Then they will see two people dancing, two friends, nothing more." He took your hand and put it on his shoulder. "You just think they will talk because you want there to be more to it."

Wonwoo's put his hand on your waist, and with his other hand, he grabbed yours. The two of you swayed in the shadows, out of view from anyone else. Being in his arms made you feel safe, like you could truly rest. When the song ended he let go of you but kept holding your hand. He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thank you, Princess," he said and took a step away from you.

"You're a wonderful dancer." You let out a giggle, a genuine laugh bubbling up from your stomach for the first time in a while. "You must be a favorite amongst the ladies."

"Oh, definitely..." he said sarcastically. "Especially the married ones."

If it weren't for the fact that your fiancé was approaching, you would've landed a soft smack on his arm. Wonwoo took another step back and greeted his brother.

"I'm glad you two get along so well." Sungho placed an arm around your waist.

"Oh, he's a swell conversationalist," you said and internally cringed at your words of choice.

"Really?" Sungho's eyebrows shot up. "I've never thought of you as the chatty type, brother."

"I have my moments," Wonwoo replied, keeping his eyes on you. "But I should go. I hope you have a good rest of your night."

The rest of the night went rather smoothly. You were introduced to many people and danced with even more. From time to time you would catch a glimpse of Wonwoo, but not nearly enough for your liking. When the clock struck midnight, you realized that people weren't leaving yet. You asked Sungho when it was time to end, and he responded that it usually goes on until dawn. When you heard that you excused yourself and said that you would be leaving for your chambers early. Sungho bid you goodnight, and reassured you that leaving early was no issue at all. If it weren't for the many distractions you faced, you might have actually been able to fall in love with him.

You took the shortcut through the King's throne room, knowing that everyone else would be trying to leave through the ballroom's main entrance. In the mirror-filled room, you caught your reflection. Your hair was in complete disarray, and your face had taken on a flustered color. Slowly, you approached one of the many mirrors. The dress was still beautiful, and you reminded yourself to thank the Queen for the gift as soon as you could. The door behind you opened, startling you, and when you looked through the mirror's reflection you saw Wonwoo.

"It's only me," he said, as if that made it any better, and closed the door.

His footsteps were slow, almost cautious. It was as if he was giving you time to tell him to stop. You didn't say a word, you couldn't as your throat had dried up within a matter of seconds as you laid eyes on him. Wonwoo approached you. He had the same flustered look on his face as you did. It must have been the wine. It must have also been the wine that made you want him so. And, yes, it must have been the wine that made Wonwoo wrap his arms around your waist from behind. His large figure easily engulfed you, and you leaned into his embrace. Wonwoo put his head on your shoulder and looked into your eyes through the mirror.

"I have been watching you all night, my love," he whispered, his speech slightly slurred.

One of his hands pushed away the hair from the shoulder his chin was leaning on. His fingertips grazed your neck, making you shudder. It was difficult to keep your eyes open when everything Wonwoo did felt so wonderful.

"I have seen you watching," you mumbled. "I was looking for you as well."

In a moment of pure bliss, his lips met your neck. A peck, that turned into two and then three. They were leading up from the crook of your neck to your jaw.

"You must be the most intoxicating goddess I have ever had the honor of being in the presence of," he mumbled against your skin, "Have you seduced me, my Princess?"

His Princess.

"What if I have?" You smile at him through the mirror.

He looked back at you with a smile, and a gaze that you couldn't read. Wonwoo's words lingered in the air as he pressed a final kiss right behind your ear.

"I would have to tell your husband." He took his lips away from your skin, much to your dismay.

"He's not my husband yet." You sighed. "Let me take part in my freedom for a while longer."

He guided your face, with his pointer finger and thumb on your chin, to look at him. Wonwoo held the galaxy in his eyes, and the only reason you could ever look away was to glance at his lips - and it was only for a short moment, as seeing his eyes on you, and only you, was the most euphoric feeling you had ever felt.

"I wish to have a taste of you, my love," he murmured, his eyes filled with lust. "Will you allow me the delight of feeling your lips against mine again?"

You didn't respond, instead, you pressed your lips to his greedily. Your body turned around to fully face him, and you pressed your chest against his. He pulled away to look around the room, and a paranoid feeling entered your chest.

"Someone could see us," he said.

"My chambers are far away from the ballroom." You took his face in your hands and place another kiss on his lips.

"I have heard that your chambers are freezing during this time of year," he muttered against your lips.

"Don't worry, I will warm you up." You smiled and grabbed his hand.

The two of you ran as fast as you could through the castle halls. His hand never left yours. You were lucky that nobody seemed to be around because you had a hard time keeping quiet. Laughs spilled out of your lips every other second. From time to time, you would stop and slip into a dark corner to embrace him and feel his lips on yours again.

When you reached your chambers, you locked the door behind you. Wonwoo's hands stayed on you every second and you adored the attention. With every step toward your bed, he placed another kiss on your skin. You were utterly drunk off of his contact with your body. Which is why a whine escaped your lips when he let you go. You sat down on the bed, both sleeves of your dress having had slipped down.

"Tell me to leave now if you truly do not want me, my love." He was panting, his hands trembling ever so slightly. "I will not hold myself back if we go any further."

"Please..." You grabbed his hand. "Have your way with me."

The very next morning you woke up to a sharp knock on your door. You stirred in your sleep, your hand touching a naked body beside you. Wonwoo was fast asleep beside you. A gasp escaped your lips as you pulled the covers up to cover your bare chest.

"Your Majesty!" Another sharp knock echoed through the wooden door as Eunji's shrill voice shocked you awake. "I have to get you ready for breakfast!"

"Just give me a second, Eunji!" you shouted back.

Your voice woke up Wonwoo, who grabbed your waist to hold you closer. He was completely unaware of the situation you were in. If it hadn't been for the situation you found yourself in, you would've loved to stay tangled in Wonwoo's web for the entire morning. However, now was sadly not the time. In a hushed voice, you whispered to him that he had to get out of bed. With a grumpy look, he got up and gathered his clothes off the floor. Another knock scared you, and you ended up pushing him behind the partition wall. You put on your nightgown and walked over to the door, hoping that you didn't look like a flustered mess.

"My apologies, Eunji." You smiled at her when you opened the door. "I was very tired from the ball last night..."

"I understand that my Lady, but you shouldn't lock your door when you know I don't have a key," she explained with a worried look.

"I know, I know... I just wanted to be safe, you know with so many people around," you lied right through your teeth.

"Well, we don't have time to chat. Let's get you ready!" Eunji pushed inside your room and walked over to the wardrobe.

You could see Wonwoo's feet under the small gap in the partition wall. Panic set in as you realized what a catastrophe this could end in. Eunji handed you your slip dress and told you to put it on. In a state of panic, you went behind the partition wall and stood in front of Wonwoo so that his feet wouldn't be visible anymore. A sleepy smile was painted on his lips, and it was hard to surpress your own smile at the sight. He had only managed to put on his pants, his shirt still hanging from his hands. With an annoyed sigh, you took it from him and started pushing it over his head.

"Are you okay back there, my Lady?" Eunji asked as Wonwoo put his arms through the sleeves.

"Oh, I'm just... feeling a bit sick from the wine," you stammered out.

Wonwoo's arms wrapped around you as soon as he had put on his shirt, and your heart almost leapt out of your throat as you heard him lovingly sigh in your ear.

"Well, if you need help I can-"

"No!" you yelled. "No, thank you. I don't need help."

The young Prince let out a soft chuckle, only loud enough for you to hear. You only grew more flustered at his teasing.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm just feeling... self-conscious." You shut your eyes tight. "Could you please put the dress on the bed for me? I'll do the rest by myself."

"Oh, my Lady, you have nothing to be embarrassed about," Eunji assured you. "But if you wish for me to leave, then I shall. I'll be outside the door in case you do end up needing my services."

"Thank you, Eunji." Your breath hitched as you felt Wonwoo's hands grab at your hips.

The door opened and closed, and as soon as it was shut Wonwoo pressed his lips to yours. You put your hands on his chest and smiled against the kiss, pulling away slightly to look at him.

"You're impossible," you murmured softly.

He leaned his forehead against yours and looked deep into your eyes. A chill sent down your spine as Wonwoo started caressing your back. The warm glow of the morning sun filled the room and you found yourself feeling so unbelievably lucky.

"Last night..." he whispered, "Do you regret it?"

"I wish I would have done it sooner," you admitted. "But now I must force you to leave, I'm sure people are looking for you."

"They can keep searching forever..." he muttered and kissed you again.

"People will grow suspicious." You pulled away with a chuckle. "And as much as I'd love to keep kissing you forever, I have enough common sense to know it won't last."

"Let me at least help you get dressed." His hands went to the hem of your short nightgown. "We don't want to keep your maid waiting."

"I'll let you help with the dress she picked out for me," you said and pushed him out of the partition wall.

Your hands worked quickly to take off the nightgown and put on the slip dress. When you walked out you caught Wonwoo feeling the blue velvet material of your dress between his fingers, as if he was studying it carefully. When he noticed you, he handed you the dress. The buttons in the back had already been undone, so all you had to do was step into it and pull the long sleeves over your arms. He motioned for you to turn around. Once your back faced him, Wonwoo slowly worked on buttoning the back of your dress. His lips pressed to the still bare skin where your neck met your back. The dress' collar was high, hiding whatever blemishes that were left from last night's activities.

"Leave the last few unbuttoned..." you whispered, "It'll be more believable that I couldn't reach."

Wonwoo hummed and took his hands away from you. Turning around, you stood face to face with the most lovestruck man you have ever seen. His smile was warm and inviting, creating small lines by his nose, and despite how wonderful this smile was you wanted to kiss it off his lips so badly. And in the beautiful morning glow, his eyes resembled portals of light that you would gladly dive into without questioning what could be on the other side.

"I'll miss you every second you aren't by my side," he said.

"Can we see each other tonight again?" you asked.

"Of course."

Another harsh knock on the door, followed by a kind yet alarming voice that told you to please hurry up.

"Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts," you responded to Eunji, but didn't look away from Wonwoo.

He walked over to the balcony door and opened it. You followed closer, leaning over the railing of the balcony as he climbed down. Before he could leave, he pulled himself up just enough to kiss you again.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered.

"I'll see you soon," you said and watched him disappear behind the castle walls.

Yet another knock on your door. It made you laugh this time. You hurried inside and closed the door to the balcony. As you straightened out your dress, the door was impatiently pushed open.

"I'm terribly sorry, Eunji," you said. "I couldn't get the last few buttons done."

"You should've called for my help." She sighed. "The Queen has asked for your presence at breakfast to discuss wedding plans."

The wedding. You felt your heart sink. How could you have forgotten about the wedding? One of your hands steadied you against your bed frame, while you held the other one to your stomach.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" Eunji asked as she finished buttoning you up.

"Just nervous..." You took a deep breath.

The wedding had a date. A month after the first day of spring, just to give enough time for preparations. You wished for winter to never end. Persephone could gladly stay by Hades' side, you didn't care. Even though the wedding was all anyone talked about, you hadn't accepted fate just yet. That's why, every night, you would drown your sorrows with the kisses of your lover. Every morning you woke up at dawn to spend more time with him before he had to leave. And when he eventually did have to leave, you could feel your heart getting ripped apart inside your chest.

The constant ache only worsened when you were around Prince Sungho, as guilt had started plaguing you whenever you saw him. The Prince would take you out on rides in the forest, on promenades in the gardens, and he even took you on a boat ride once or twice. All of these exceptional experiences, and yet your favorite moments in the castle were those in your bed laying next to Wonwoo.

As spring approached, you grew more reckless. The constant need of being near Wonwoo only grew stronger, and you did everything you could to keep him by your side.

One evening, when you knew that Wonwoo would be going out for a ride, you walked all alone to the stables to meet him. The snow had started melting away, but you tried not to think about it. Nevertheless, it was still very cold outside and not warm enough for anything to have grown. The warmth of the stables welcomed you quickly, as you walked across the floors to where Wonwoo's favorite horse stood. Just as you were about to turn the corner, Wonwoo peeked out from the small room. A smile spread across his lips as soon as he laid his eyes on you.

"Is anyone else here?" you whispered and looked around.

"Only me," he said and put his arms around your waist. "You must be freezing. Why would you walk outside without a coat?"

"I didn't think to get it." Your arms wrapped around his neck. "And I was in a hurry to see you before you left."

"I was going to go see you tonight, after my ride," he explained with a grin.

"It would be too long of a wait."

"You're so impatient."

One of his hands cupped your cheek and brought you in for a loving kiss. He was so warm, it spread through you as if you were drinking a hot cup of tea. You wanted to melt into him and nest in his chest, to always keep his warmth around you.

"We could run away, you know," he murmured against your lips. "Spring is approaching, there's not much time left..."

"I don't want to think about it..." You put your hands on his chest to create some distance between him and you.

"Y/N, this is the first time we've ever been alone outside of your chambers." He sighed. "When you share your chambers with... someone else, we won't be able to see each other like that."

"We can find a way," you argued.

"We could run away, my love," he said. "We would only bring what was necessary, and we could take two horses. Then we wouldn't have to worry about hiding anymore."

You took a deep breath, leaning your forehead against Wonwoo's chest. While part of you wanted to run away, there was still a big part of you that knew that you had a duty to your people. And that part needed to stay.

"No." You shook your head. "I can't just abandon my kingdom."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You grabbed at his shirt, partly because you were trying to make him stay close to you, but you also didn't want him to see you cry. As your first sob rocked through your body he didn't try to pull you away, he only held you closer. One of his hands soothingly caressed your back, while the other held onto the back of your head.

"I hate it," you sobbed. "I hate it so much."

Wonwoo kept quiet but held you even closer. The stables were so unbelievably quiet, that you had forgotten you were even there. But the door opened, making the two of you quickly separate. Tears were still streaming down your face, and there was nothing Wonwoo could do to comfort you. You whispered goodbye and quickly made your way out of the stables.

After that encounter, you didn't stop meeting in public. Whenever no one else was around, you would take the chance to embrace each other. On this particular day, it was the library. This wretched, cursed day.

"Your chambers are just around the corner," Wonwoo mumbled against your lips. "We could go there."

The two of you were laying on the couch, you on top of him. Your heart felt so full, that you didn't want to move. So, you shook your head at his suggestion and kissed him again. His strong arms held you tightly against his body. Your hands were in his hair, trying to pull him closer to you. It was dark outside, so a few candles were lit around you.

"I love you," you murmured. "I truly do."

"I love you too." He smiled at your confession.

"I wish spring never comes..." You sighed and put your head on his chest.

Wonwoo put his hand along your jawline and brought you back up to face him. His eyes were serious, almost stern - instead of intimidating you, it only made you melt further into him.

"Don't mention spring," he said. "Just forget about it for a moment. For me, my love."

"For you? I'll do anything." You grinned and pressed your lips to his again.

The door swung open and your heart sank to the floor at the sound. When you looked up, you met the eyes of your fiancé. His first worried look turned into sadness, which transformed into anger. Eunji came up behind him with a horrified look on her face, somehow it was both disappointed and apologetic. You got off Wonwoo and fell off the couch in the process, Wonwoo sat up and helped you to your feet.

"What is this?" Sungho asked angrily. "Your chambermaid was worried sick about you, and here you are whoring yourself out for my brother!"

"It's not what it looks like, please-" you tried to plea but he interrupted you.

"I invite you into my home, I promise you all the riches in the land, and this is what you do to me?" He gasped.

"Brother, it's not her fault-"

"Oh, so this is your doing?" Sungho scoffed. "You can't have the throne so you decide to steal my future wife?"

"Please, forgive me, my Prince." You got down on your knees in front of him, "I promise you, this will never happen again. I will marry you when spring comes, we can just forget about all of this."

Sungho only looked down at you, with so much hatred in his eyes. He looked between you and Wonwoo, studying the situation. Suddenly, you felt him grab your hair and pull you up to your feet. You could hear Wonwoo's protests behind you, but you tried not to think of it.

"Don't beg for me," he hissed. "I want you to beg him to never come near you again. Show me that you're only loyal to me."

He turned you around to face Wonwoo. His eyes were full of tears and he seemed to be completely speechless. Your bottom lip quivered. What if you had just run away with him? Everything would've been okay now. You could've lived your life out with him in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere, where no one knew who you were.

"Please, never come near me again," you sobbed out, "I don't ever want to see you again."

"Do you hear that brother?" Sungho taunted. "She doesn't want to see you again. So I suggest you pack up and go on a little trip. If you don't want this... mistake to go public, you will leave the castle until the wedding. You will not see her again until we are wed."

Wonwoo didn't break eye contact with you. It felt like his eyes were telling you that it was all okay. That, despite having said a most horrible thing to him, he still loved you and that he understood your situation. He stood up and walked out of the room, bumping into his older brother's shoulder as he did so. Sungho let go of the grip on your hair and you fell to your knees once again.

"Get her to her chambers, maid," he said to Eunji. "I have other business to attend to."

Eunji rushed to your side and held your trembling body in your arms the best she could. She kept on whispering apologies between her cursing about how you could have been so reckless.

"Princess Y/N," Sungho said from the doorway. "I am doing you a favor. Do not forget this, as I will not forget what you have done."

He walked out of the library and slammed the door behind him. As his footsteps faded, you felt your body lose its strength. You could no longer sit, let alone stand. Eunji had to bring in more maids to help carry you to your bed.

Heartbreak comes in many forms, sometimes physical. You were sick in bed for days, not daring to eating a thing. People grew worried, asking how the wedding would take place if the Princess wasn't well. They only thought you had an illness, not that your heart had been broken into a million pieces. So they treated it like any other illness. Only Eunji was allowed to visit you, that is what you had requested. Although you heard voices outside of your room many times. Most of the time it was your mother, and she was usually crying. Eunji tried to reassure everyone that you just needed to rest and that the sickness would leave your body eventually. One night, she was sitting by your bedside and washing your body with a cloth. You hadn't been able to move, which meant you couldn't bathe.

"I'm hungry," you breathed out between chapped lips.

Eunji went into a frenzy as soon as she heard the words. You had pushed away any food that she had brought you, so your hunger was very welcomed. She put you back down against the pillows and put away her rag and bucket.

"What would you like to eat, my Lady?" she asked with happy tears prickling in her eyes.

"Pomegranates," you whispered and looked over to the balcony. "I want pomegranates."

"Oh... then I shall get you pomegranates, my Lady." She hurried out the room and shouted down the corridor about the news.

The people were static, and people from all over brought you pomegranates. It was hard to get ahold of at this time of year, but people managed. If anyone knew what you had done, you wondered if they would be so keen on trying to please you. It didn't matter now. Soon enough, Eunji brought you a platter of pomegranates. They were displayed nicely, why you didn't know. There were a few sliced pomegranates, as well as a few whole ones, but most importantly there was a bowl of only pomegranate seeds.

"Here you go, my Lady." Eunji sat the platter down in front of you.

"Leave," you whispered.

Eunji nodded and quickly gathered herself and left. You stared at the red fruit in front of you. Persephone ate six of the twelve pomegranate seeds she was given and it gave her six months in the Underworld. With a trembling hand, you took the wooden spoon in the bowl and pushed many pomegranate seeds past your lips. It wasn't enough. You put the spoon away and grabbed a handful of pomegranate seeds from the bowl and shoved them into your mouth. The fruit's juices poured down from the corners of your lips, but you did nothing to stop it. You took more of the seeds and kept shoving them down your throat. The noises that came out of you were disgusting. Gasps and gulps and gargles, but it was drowned out by your thoughts. If you ate enough it would give you an eternity with Wonwoo.

The bowl was empty and, with desperate hands, you clawed at the sliced pomegranates. You ate the white meat around it if you couldn't get the seeds out, and when you finished those you tried to open the whole fruits. You were too weak to even try. He had to be by the balcony now, he had to. You pushed the platter away from you and ripped off the bed sheets. Delirious and quivering, you walked over to the balcony and pulled aside the blinds that were covering the glass door. It was day, but he had to be there already. You opened the door and felt the cold wind against your sweaty body. After finally getting out, you leaned over the railing. He was nowhere to be seen. You desperately looked around, feeling warm tears stream down your face. Eventually, your eyes fell on the tree beside the balcony. Small little green buds had started growing on the otherwise brows twigs. Spring is here.

"No..." Your voice was hoarse "No, no, no..."

You walked over to the tree, it's branches hanging over the balcony, and tried to pull all of the buds off, getting your hand cut open on the sharp branches in the process. A sob came out of your throat as you kept repeating that one word. No. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be spring already. You stumbled back and looked down at your scathing hand. Blood poured out of all the cuts and you felt sick. You hurled forward, blood-red vomit spewing out of you. All of the pomegranates escaped your stomach. They were rejecting you. There was no savior who could help you now. Everything around you went dark as you fell to the stone floors.

When you woke up you were in bed again, and your body felt much lighter. A man you had never seen before was sitting beside you. Eunji, who was sitting on your other side, explained that he was a physician and was treating you for your illness. He had been feeding you liquids to get your strength back, which was why you felt so much better.

"You are allergic to pomegranates," he explained in an emotionless tone. "I'm guessing you've had one before, but because of the large intake you had a much bigger reaction. If you eat just a little it wouldn't be very noticeable, maybe a slight itch."

"How..." You cleared your throat. "How long was I out?"

"A few days." Eunji said. "Since you've been rapidly getting better, preparations for the wedding have started. They want your opinion on a lot of things... but if you would rather not see anyone, you can tell me and I'll deliver the message."

All hope was out. You had given up.

"No... I'll meet them..."

In a matter of weeks, the wedding was upon you. It was the night before, and you were in your bed. Preparing for your wedding had kept you so preoccupied that you hadn't thought of anything else. Therefore, the knock on your balcony door surprised you. When you looked over you met the eyes of Wonwoo, and your heart broke all over again. You pushed aside your blanket and walked over to the door. Wonwoo embraced you as soon as he could, but you didn't reciprocate.

"I've missed you," he whispered.

"When did you get back?" you asked.

"About an hour ago," he replied. "Listen, I know that last time I asked this of you, you declined... but this time I have a plan."

"Are you asking me to run away with you?" you murmured as he pulled away from you.

"Tomorrow night," he said. "There's a boat by the docks, I'm supposed to go alone. We'll be on a different continent."

"You're leaving? Why now?" you cupped his face in his hands.

"My brother convinced my father that I should try being on my own for a while." He sighed. "He gave me a chance to visit another kingdom we have a treaty with. Once we're there, we can go wherever we want - and nobody will know until it's too late."

"... I don't know if I can choose," you admit softly.

You blamed everyone in the story of Persephone and Hades for giving her such a horrible fate, but maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Oh, how you wished for a compromise now.

"The boat leaves tomorrow night." Wonwoo cupped your cheek in his palm. "I won't force you to do anything, and I'm not trying to convince you to go with me... I'm just giving you another chance."

With that, he leaned down and kissed you. It was soft and sweet. You had longed to kiss him again, but still you felt so heartbroken. He whispered goodbye before disappearing into the night, you knew you wouldn't get another chance to see him before the ceremony.

On the day of the wedding, you could help but cry. Out of anger, sadness, and out of uncertainty. Anger because your father left you to take care of his mess all by yourself. Sadness because you didn't love the man you were about to marry. And uncertainty because you had no idea what choices you would make tonight.

People around you comforted you by saying that it was normal to feel nervous on the big day. You asked to be left alone with Eunji, and for her to do the rest of the preparations for you. She was silent as she was dressing you, and she only spoke up when she had started taking care of your hair.

"I feel guilty, my Lady," she said.

"About what?" you said between sniffles.

"About that day in the library." She frowned at you in the mirror. "I truly just thought you had gone missing."

"It's my fault as well," you assured her. "I guess I should have told you."

She laughed and put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you put your hand on top of hers. The two of you looked at each other with warm smiles, like old friends do.

"I would have liked to know," she eventually said.

"And I was dying to tell someone," you admitted. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

"No, no... you did what you thought was best," she argued and after some time added, "... was he good to you, my Lady?"

You turned around in your chair and gave her a mischievous smile. Eunji raised her eyebrows and you nodded. Without speaking a single word, the two of you had told so much. Both of you busted out laughing. Despite the sorrow you felt over everything you had done, there was something so delightful in telling Eunji of your escapades.

"How did you do it?" she asked between giggles.

"He snuck in through the balcony most nights," you admitted. "Oh, and he was so nice... I've never met anyone like him. He's quiet and reserved, but when he does speak he always knows what to say."

"Not to mention, he's very handsome," Eunji added, and the two of you broke out into fits of giggles again.

This is what you wanted your wedding to be. You wanted to be able to giggle about what a handsome and charming man your future husband was. In the midst of your laughter, you broke out crying again.

"Oh, my Lady-" Eunji quickly grabbed tissues from the table. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken about it."

"He asked me to run away with him," you whispered. "Tonight. By boat. We'd go to another country, he said."

"But the wedding-"

"I know, I know!" you whaled. "I don't know what to do!"

"My Lady, I don't know much about love." Eunji crouched down in front of you. "But I can see it on your face, you truly love that man. That is something that no one can take away from you. If you decide to go or not... I won't judge you for it. I just hope you follow your heart. Do what you think is right."

You nodded and took the tissue she offered to wipe away your tears.

The ceremony went fairly quickly. You were lucky you had a veil because you couldn't help but cry once again, even if Eunji had given you a good speech beforehand. Wonwoo was in the crowd, you knew that, but you had no idea where since you didn't dare look. You had made up your mind, or so you thought.

You weren't going to leave with him, not at first at least. During the festivities held afterward, you watched as your now husband held speeches and talked to his peers. He wasn't your person. You knew that, and you were sure that the entire world could see that as well. So, when no one was looking you snuck out into the night. It was already late, and Wonwoo had left an hour earlier. But you just had to take this chance. You couldn't stay with Sungho for the rest of your life.

The white dress turned green and brown from you running through the mud. You had fallen down many times, and you were sure your legs were entirely scratched up. It didn't matter now, you would be with your love forever.

When you reached the docks there was no boat. If you squinted enough, you could see a ship in the distance - it was sailing away from you. You screamed, shouted, yelled, and ran as far as the coast would let you. But to no avail. The boat was gone. Wonwoo was gone. For how long, you didn't know. It was time to accept fate. Betrayed and tired, you made your way back to the castle. You had to ask Eunji for another dress.

Years flew by, and you got along rather well with your husband. You didn't love him, and you never learned to, but you did love the children he gave you. Three children: two boys and the youngest was a girl. They lived in ignorance, along with everyone else in the castle. Only you, Eunji, and Sungho knew of what happened in the past. You tried to forget. But when the King died one night while in his bed, you knew that you had to face your history.

He came by boat, just like he had left. The years had taken a toll on him, but he wasn't any less beautiful. You wanted to embrace him but held yourself back by holding your arms so hard that your nails dug into your flesh. Wonwoo was only there for the funeral, then he would leave again. You tried not to think about it, or to see him as a stranger, but it was much too difficult.

The children loved him. Wonwoo was great with kids, reminding you that there was so much that you hadn't had the chance to find out about him.

After dinner, you excused yourself to go to the garden. The Queen had let you have it, knowing how much you loved to spend your free time there. Even if you hadn't expected it, you were very pleased when Wonwoo had come after you. Without a word, the two of you embraced, hidden by a large tree and the many purple Phlox. It was the middle of summer, so the green leaves obscured you well.

"I've missed you, so much," he breathed out.

"Wonwoo..." You pulled away from him. "I want you to know that I tried to go with you that night. The... the boat had left before I got to it. I was prepared to leave my life here for you... but I can't do that anymore."

"I know... I know, my love." He cupped your cheek in his palm. "It's okay. I'm happy for you. You've done so well."

You put your hand on top of his and leaned into his touch. In the distance, you heard a child shouting for you. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you did your best to hold back the tears that threatened to spill out of the corner of your eye.

"I have to go," you whispered out with a sob stuck in your throat. "But you should know that a day never passes where I don't think of you."

You walked away from him, stopping mid-step when he called your name. You shut your eyes tight, as if it would help you shield yourself from him, and you didn't dare turn around.

"I never married," he admitted. "I haven't been able to move on from you."

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“SONDER” by @jundundun

Fem!reader || medieval au, smut, angst, slowburn || W.C: 14.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seungcheol is the head knight of the kingdom of nephele. what happens when seungcheol begins to fall for the princess and resident sweetheart, Y/N.

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“Bend & Break” by @whipped-for-kpop-fics

Fem!reader || coworker au, friends to fuckers, smut || W.C: 10k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You've recently been hired due to the sunshine personality you showed for an interview, purely with the intention of the company pairing you up with Seungcheol to counteract his grumpy attitude around the office. Nobody realises it's just a work persona of yours and when someone does, it's none other than Choi Seungcheol himself.

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“Heartbreaker” by @hannieween

[Series] || Fem!reader || exes to lovers, angst, smut || Parts: 4 || Total W.C: 65.4k (as of now) || Status: Ongoing

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Three events made you wonder if you are the unluckiest person in the world. First, the constant hopping from job to job, only to land in a local bar. Second, the revelation that your new boss is none other than your ex. Third, the painful realisation that you're not completely over your him.

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“Troublemaker” by @whipped-for-kpop-fics

Fem!reader || gang au, smut, angst, humour, fluff || W.C: 15.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You're known for being able to get your hands on anything you want; drugs, weapons, money, cars. Except your boss, he's always been a little out of your reach, until the day you have him handcuffed in the backseat.

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“Crossing Boundaries” by @wonusite

Fem!reader || single dad au, nanny au, smut, fluff || W.C: 8.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Seungcheol has always demanded that all of his employees keep professional boundaries, but it frustrates him that his son’s nanny is a little too good at keeping things professional.

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“The Pen Pal Project” by @mr-cha-n

Fluff, fluff, and more fluff, tiny angst || W.C: 10.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Over a decade of handwritten letters later, you can happily say that the Pen Pal Project was your greatest success.

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“Lover” by @starlightxsvt

Fem!reader || sugar daddy au, fake dating, strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, angst, fluff || W.C: 15.7k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the worst first meeting and then an uncanny proposition is enough to cause trouble for you. you fall for a man who doesn't seem all that keen on returning your feelings.

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“Exes and Oh’s” by @toruro

Fem!reader || smut, angst || W.C: 15.8k+

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.

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“Terrifyingly Innocent” by @twogyuu

[Series] || Fem!reader || uni au, older brother's best friend, fluff, angst, fake dating, slowburn || Parts: 19 || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.

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“To Boil A Frog” by @seungkwansphd

Childhood acquaintances to lovers, brother's best friend, slowburn, romance || W.C: 15.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you & cheol go back, like way back. growing up together, you never felt anything more for him than a proximity based fondness, but things are a little different since you moved back to town.

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“Heartbreak Girl” by @nevernonline

Fem!reader || friends to lovers, suggestive || W.C: 8.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.

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“Somebody” by @onlymingyus

Fem!reader || single dad au, fake dating, smut, fluff, angst, romance || W.C: 25.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When you need someone to help you out of a bind quickly, you pick the first person you see to be your “boyfriend”, you just didn’t expect it to be your single hot dad neighbor, Choi Seungcheol…

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“Cherrybomb” by @daechwitatamic

Afab!reader || Pacific rim au, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff || W.C: 19.5k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Piloting a jaeger requires a rare ability called drifting - a neural connection with your co-pilot. You and Seungcheol are masters of the drift... until you have something in your head that you don't want him to see.

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“Willow” by @cherriegyuu

[Series] || Fem!reader || marriage of convenience, angst, fluff || Parts: 3 || Total W.C: 15.6k || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

Warnings - as usual, to be added after a week.

“Please….” 

It was the only thing ringing in your head, your fingers tightening their grip in Seungcheol’s dark mane as his mouth refused to leave yours, like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

Why now? What changed? 

The thought ran in the back of your mind as Seungcheol let out a soft groan, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he pulled back just a little, just enough to breathe but you lurched for his mouth again. It didn’t matter why, all that mattered was that this was finally happening and you didn’t want it to stop. 

Mirroring your desperation, he sat you on the hood of his car, freeing his hands to push the hair away from your face and hold it surprisingly delicately, like he couldn’t believe he was really kissing you. It felt like he was conflicted between wanting to look at you and wanting to devour you but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he chose the latter. 

At least it seemed like it until your hand slipped between your bodies, reaching for the button of his pants and Seungcheol pulled back with a jerk, like he had been electrocuted. 

“Oh…” You drew your hands back quickly. “I thought you wanted to….” 

“I uh…” He looked around, pushing his hair back. “Y/n, we are out in the open…” 

Yeah but in the middle of fucking nowhere, with not a soul in sight. 

But of course. 

It wasn’t the location that was the problem, it was him. You should have seen this coming, you should have known that with every step Seungcheol took forward, he took two back. 

Scoffing, you slid off the car, tucking your hair behind your ears, trying not to let how disappointed you were show on your face. Seungcheol glanced at you, gulping audibly. 

“Y/n I…” 

“I don’t even know why I keep falling for this-” 

“Please…” 

“What does that word even mean anymore Seungcheol?” You raised your hands in defeat, ready to walk away. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to hear it-”

Grabbing the back of your neck, Seungcheol pulled you up against him again, mouth hot on yours. When you tried to push him away, he didn’t let go, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing in all that tension between the two of you. 

“Let me go.” You tried to free yourself. “Choi Seungcheol-” 

“I don’t think you can even begin to fathom just how much I want you…. how much I want this.” He groaned. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to hold you like this.” 

You frowned, pulling back. “Why, because of the force field?” 

Seungcheol shook his head, “No- I mean yeah, that was one reason, I still don’t know you’re unaffected but thank heavens-” He looked at you intently. “- staying away from you has been excruciatingly painful.” 

“Then why?” You wrapped your hands around his wrists, hoping he wouldn’t let go like always. “Why are you staying away from me Cheol? Why can’t we-” 

“Do you want this?” He whispered like he was unsure and you blinked at him, just a little surprised. “Right here, right now, do you-” 

“Choi Seungcheol, for a man this big, your brain really is the size of a pea.” Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I set foot in camp and my eyes on you-” 

“Then fuck everything else,” With a swift movement he spun you around, the shriek of surprise lost in your throat, your palms finding the hood of the car. Seungcheol did not wait for you to even process what was happening - pushing your hair over your shoulder, his hands quickly worked the strings of your armor behind, mouth by your ear. “I want you and I don’t care who’s watching.” 

Before you can ask him who the fuck could possibly be watching the two of you, he let out what seemed to be a frustrated groan at the complexity of the lace. You were just about to undo it yourself when he reached for the dagger strapped to your waist and with a swift movement, ran it across the strings, slicing them open. 

“Cheol what-” You whined. “How am I supposed to wear this again?” 

“Armour is for protection.” He slid the bronze plates off your torso, dropping them to the ground as you turned to face him again. “And that’s what I’m here for. I got you.” 

Grinning, you grabbed its twin blade and mirrored his actions, undoing the knotted strings on his shoulders, freeing him of his gear. Taking a momentary step back, the two of you quickly got rid of the various metallic appendages and weapons lodged everywhere, dropping them onto the forest floor and you were barely done when Seungcheol pulled you towards him, kissing you again. 

It was different now, slower, deeper, more relieved but somehow more electrifying - you could feel your boobs up against the hard muscles of his chest, his fingers found the sliver of skin between your top and pants, pressing into it and your hands gripped around his biceps, nails digging in.

For some reason you suddenly realised, that though in the last 3 days you had been with 3 different men, Seungcheol was the first one that it genuinely felt intimate with, the first one you had even kissed, nevermind with such passion. And god did you want to keep kissing him but the memory of Dionysus's dildo ran in your mind and hell could empty all its devils here and you wouldn't care. You just wanted him deep inside you. 

This time, when your hand found the button of his pants again, Seungcheol didn’t stop you, moaning into your mouth instead. Just as you unzipped it, he quickly slid them off, the fabric pooling at his feet and your hands moved to their next target, his shirt. 

“Wanna see you too.” He kissed you along your jawline, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You laughed softly, working the buttons, “Then take it off.” 

“Then I'll have to stop this.” He continued the trail of kisses down to your neck. “And I don't want to.” 

Smiling to yourself you undid the last button, pushing the fabric aside, thanking the universe that today Seungcheol went commando in his pants. As his lips found your shoulder, your eyes caught Seungcheol’s dick, already familiar with exactly how it looked but the real one was so much better. He was unbearably hard, hissing when you wrapped your hand around the base.

“Better than you imagined?” He sounded cocky when you began stroking his length, letting out a soft sigh. 

“What makes you think I imagined it?”  

Seungcheol chuckled. “Baby, there's only a wall between our rooms which mind you, is really thin. I've heard you take my name before.”

You froze as his hands gripped your waist tighter. 

“Faster cheol, harder cheol, Right there cheol…. I heard it all.” 

Okay yeah, there were days you had indeed slid your fingers in and out, imagining it was him ravaging you but why didn't your stupid ass ever doubt if he could hear it??

‘You sounded like I was doing a good job.” He smiled against your skin. 

“You mean I was doing a job.” 

Getting yourself off was not new to you. You didn't really have any boyfriends but the handful of people you had slept with in your life were disappointing to say the least, devastatingly incapable of making you feel any pleasure. Of course after Soonyoung revealed that demigods could not be satisfied by mortals, it made sense why your own hands and toys were the only ones that could make you cum. You had to admit though, getting off to the thought of Seungcheol fucking you into his large white bed gave you some of the best orgasms you ever had. He didn't need to know that. The way he was smiling at the memory of you moaning his name had inflated his ego enough. 

“Oh you were doing a good job?” He detached his mouth from you at last, drawing back, eyes scouring your face. “Why don't you let me see this time?” 

As he kicked his pants off and took a step back then another, you looked at him in disbelief. 

“You want me to imagine you fucking me when you're standing right in front of me-” You ran your eyes down his body covered only by his shirt hanging off his shoulders. “-looking like that?” 

Seungcheol nodded. “Lean against the car and spread your legs for me baby.” 

“Cheol-” 

“Do it Y/n.”

“But-”

“That's a command soldier.’ 

This asshole. Of course Choi Seungcheol made use of hierarchy during sex. 

“Yes Chief.” 

Rolling your eyes you pulled your pants down your legs, tossing them to join your gear on the forest floor. Your panties were slick with arousal, uncomfortably sticking to you, the dark wet spot only getting larger. Eyes flickering down between your legs, Seungcheol clasped his hands behind his back standing at ease, the way he did when he oversaw morning training. 

“So you're just going to watch?” You licked your drying lips. “Are you not even going to touch yourself?” 

If you did, it was only fair that he did too.

But Seungcheol shook his head. “I'm yours to do whatever.” 

God did you want to throw your arms around him and pull him into another kiss but he seemed so damn insistent that you put on a show. Fine, if that's what he wants, you'll give it to him. 

You ran your fingers over your wet panties, sighing at the way a sudden jolt ran down your body when they grazed your clit. You were only just about to push the fabric to the side and slide your fingers into your pretty wet hole when you felt a familiar twist in the pits of your stomach. Surprised, you found yourself almost buckling forward, hands quickly gripped the car behind you trying to find balance as the coil tightened, building the feeling inside. Legs shaking, you attempted to squeeze them and chase the feeling when in a flash Seungcheol was inches away from you, his hand holding your legs apart, shaking his head. 

Shutting your eyes, you threw your head back, your entire being almost convulsing as your organsm hit you hard and you came with a not so soft moan. 

As you tried to catch the breath you hadn't taken all this while, Seungcheol leaned closed, whispering in your ear. 

“Still think it was you who did a good job?” 

Eyes widening, you looked at him, lips parted in shock. 

“You mean that was… that you…” 

Seungcheol chuckled, moving his hand closer to your core, letting his fingers graze your even more wet panties. 

“An orgasm is caused by nerves and nerves carry electric impulses.” Given your frown, he continued. “I'm the Son of Zeus, anything with electric tendencies is under my control.” 

That meant all those days, sitting on the other side of the wall, Seungcheol had made you cum untouched. 

‘Did that feel good?” He whispered as your breath slowly came back to normal, his hand pushing the fabric of your underwear, his finger running between your folds, feeling how wet you were. “Looks like it did.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Now it's my turn.” And without a warning, he slipped two fingers into your hole, as your hands flew to grip his biceps. “but I'll need to prep you first baby.”

Oh you knew.

While his fingers pumped in and out of you, you pulled Seungcheol closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him, hands trailing up into his thick hair. You didn't know obscenely kissing someone like this out in the open while his fingers stretched you open could feel this arousing. You didn't think it could get any better until Seungcheol broke away, whispering into your ear, “I'm going to fuck you now.”

A shudder ran down your body and a shriek left your mouth as Seungcheol spun you around once again, your palms finding the hood of the car the balance over but this time, you could feel his erection against your ass. Wasting no time, he lined his tip against your hole, slowly sinking in, both of your moans matching with the same relief, the same arousal. Choi Seungcheol was fucking you at last. 

Pushing all the way till the hilt, Seungcheol pulled back, gripping your wrist tight but thrusting into you slowly. You couldn't tell if he was being gentle or savoring it - you just needed him up in your guts. 

“Cheol.” You breathed, making him lean over to hear you. “Didn't you hear me in your house? I like hard and fast.” 

Chuckling, Seungcheol picked up the pace, snapping his hip into yours, the impact surely bruising where your skin grazed the car. You could tell he was still controlling himself, holding back like he was afraid of breaking you. 

“And rough.” You added and that seemed to do the trick. 

Letting out a groan, his hand immediately found the nape of your neck, pushing you down onto the hood, devoid of all the prior gentleness. Despite your whole upper body being pressed against cold metal, you smiled to yourself and as if he could not get enough, Seungcheol gathered both your wrists with his free hand and pinned them to your lower back, fucking you like an animal in the jungle. 

Hell yes. God yes you wanted this and the way he felt was so much better than you thought, his dick eventually finding all the right spots, making you feel so full of him. Oh you couldn't wait to have him fill you but before that, you felt your orgasm approaching, everything in your stomach tightening again. 

“Fuck, I'm….” You struggled to speak with the way your cheek was pressed against the hood. “I…”

Sliding his hand from the nape to wrap your neck, Seungcheol pulled you back up against him, hips not stopping their thrusts even for a moment. 

“What is it baby? Gonna cum for me?” 

You nodded, feeling your walls fluttering around his length, hands desperately trying to hold on to anything.

“Good girl.” He whispered, bringing the hand on your waist to your clit and almost instantly you could feel yourself coming, tightening around him like a vice. 

“That's it.” Seungcheol groaned, slowing down his pace as your walls clamped around him. “That's it baby, you did so good.” 

“Cheol….” You whispered, finding your breath again, barely down from your high, legs still trembling. “I wanna feel full of you.” 

Clearly he was just as desperate to come inside you because all of a sudden, the man who seemed like he had unending stamina was losing his rhythm. You tightened your walls around him, squeezing his length when it was deep inside you, arching your back to help him reach further in. He had just about given you what you were dying to have when out of no fucking where, you heard Jeonghan saying Seungcheol’s name. 

The latter instantly halted his actions, looking around just as panicked as you until the call of his name again made him realise where it was coming from. The looking glass. 

Whispering a sorry against your ear, Seungcheol pulled out slowly, leaving you unclenching around  nothing as you felt your arousal leak down your thigh filthily. 

What the hell?? 

Seungcheol rummaged through the discarded gear, pulling his looking glass, being careful to show only his face given neck down, he was an absolute mess. 

“Han.” 

“Cheol, what's your status quo?”

Groaning you pulled your panties back into place. Evidently this was not going to be a short conversation.

“We uh, just reached the forest.” 

“Just? Shouldn't you have reached an hour ago?” 

Seungcheol looked at you guiltily but continued nevertheless. “Y/n messed up reading the map so we had to take a longer route.” 

You raised your eyebrows. Oh, he was playing dirty. Then you could too. 

Walking up to him, you dropped to your knees, taking Seungcheol’s pretty cock in your hands, his eyes widening. On the other hand Jeonghan, oblivious to it all, went on. 

“Okay, Jihoon and Hansol scoured their woods already, there's no traces of the monster there. Negative for Joshua and I too. We haven't heard from Seokmin and Chan though, I assume Min's pegasus is giving him a tough time. What about you?” 

You had no idea if Seungcheol was listening to him or pretending to, because all this while, you had been very silently and very skillfully,  sucking his dick. 

“Cheol?” 

“Yeah.” He tore his eyes away from you with much difficulty, turning to his friend. “I uh… I don't know yet, I mean, we haven't tried to track it yet, w-we just r-reached.” 

You smiled at his stuttering words, knowing he was close. 

“Okay but be careful. My gut feeling is that it's in the Nyx forest. What better place for a monster to thrive right?” 

“Fuck-” Cheol muttered as your teeth grazed him accidently, as you quickly pulled back, looking apologetic. 

“Cheol, is everything okay?” 

“Yeah just Y/n ....almost fell.” He gulped, turning to Jeonghan. “Yeah I got it, we'll be careful and I'll let you know if there's any developments.” 

“Alright and-” 

Before he could complete, Seungcheol tossed the glass onto the gear pile and gripped your chin, holding it as he pushed his length further into your mouth. 

“What a brat.” He groaned, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. “What if Jeonghan found out?”

You couldn't care less. All you cared about was how deep could you possibly take Seungcheol, relaxing your throat as he pushed in. 

“F-fuck.” He muttered, quickly pulling out, jerking off his length. “Open wide.” 

And you did, sticking your tongue out just in time to feel spurts of his cum coat it messily, spilling onto your lips and out of the corner of your mouth. 

Without waiting for you to swallow, Seungcheol pulled you up to your feet, kissing you again, unbothered about tasting himself. 

“I'll get you some water.” He dropped a kiss on your forehead before quickly going to the car and reaching for the bottle. As you drank, mouth and throat dry and sore, Seungcheol hurriedly began buttoning his shirt again. 

Wait, that's it? 

“Cheol.” He glanced at you questioningly. “What are you…” 

“Jeonghan thinks the Chimaera is most definitely here.” He held your pants out by your feet, prompting you to put your feet in. You complied, still confused. “We should try to track it as soon as possible.” 

“Seungcheol we just….” You sighed, dropping the bottle on the forest floor. “We just had sex after days of behaving like we cannot bear each other, don't you think we need to talk?” 

“We do.” He nodded seriously, doing your button. “And we will. Just not now, at the right time-” 

“What right time?!” You stepped away from him, anger coursing through you. “After leaving me confused for days, after fucking me in the middle of nowhere, you don't think I deserve an explanation?” 

“You do Y/n and I will tell you everything but we just need to find the monster first. It's dangerous-” 

“Did you not realise that when you had your dick inside me??” You looked at him incredulously. “How is that we had the time to have sex, but not to have a discussion-”

“Enough.” Seungcheol’s voice was hard and urgent. ‘I cannot keep repeating the same thing again Y/n. Yes, you deserve an explanation and yes we will talk, just. not. now. Now, we need to find the monster.” 

“But Cheol-” 

“Y/n stop.”

“I just want to-” 

“That's a command, soldier.” 

Taken aback you blinked at him, processing his words.  

“Yes chief.” 

And with that you turned and walked away into the woods, ignoring his voice calling out to you and letting the darkness of the forest consume you.

You had no idea how long or how deep into the forest you had ventured - you just needed to get away from Seungcheol as soon as possible. You knew he would have followed if he had managed to get his pants on in time but you had disappeared into the darkness before he could. In hindsight maybe that wasn't the best idea because the forest was barely visible despite your extremely sharp eyesight, and though you had your energy reader on you, hanging around your neck, you couldn't use it. You didn't feel warmth. 

“This isn't the kind of forest you roam alone in, sweet summer child.”

Holding back a shriek you turned around, shocked by a presence in this dark forest. All you could see was the silhouette of a tall lanky man, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, only half his face illuminated by the small fire burning by his feet. His features looked royal, as though even without the light, he'd still shine all the same. You couldn’t see his eyes though - they were hidden behind black sunglasses which seemed rather unnecessary given the surroundings. The theme of black continued in his attire - a soft black fur jacket thrown over a black shirt and black slacks, accents of white, green and gold, littered all over. The most noticeable thing about him was perhaps his hair - streaks of red and grey in spiky black hair. Strangely he looked both old and young at the same time, almost timeless. 

“You’re alone.” You pointed out. 

“I’m an adult.”

“More like ancient.” You muttered to yourself but the man seemed to have heard it somehow. 

“Ancient?” He chuckled. “I suppose I should be offended but that's an understatement.” 

You frowned, not quite understanding. 

“Don't rack your brain sweetheart. I've already figured out that you're not too bright considering, you know, the little show you put up earlier.”

You felt your jaw hang, cheeks burning up. What the fuck- 

“And before you ask, ew no, I wasn't watching - I'd rather burn in Tartarus than watch that tragedy.” He rolled his eyes, looking disgusted. “But this is Nyx's forest and everything here talks….”

A whole damn forest was watching you and Seungcheol have sex?? You wanted to throw up, throw a fit and throw something at this man, all at once. Overwhelmed by everything, you held your head, trying to sort out the overload of information.

“First of all, who the hell are you…..” 

“Goodness be damned, you're really dumber than I thought.” He walked up, closer to the fire, his features much more clear in the light. “I’m what you’re looking for.” 

You looked him up and down. 

“I’m not looking for a boomer with a fashion crisis.” 

The man burst out laughing, looking away, shoulders shaking. “You’re funny darling, not everyone can joke in the face of danger.” 

“I’m not joking.” You rolled your eyes. “And clearly, you’re not dangerous. If you were, you wouldn’t be wasting your time with a conversation, darling.” 

He smiled. 

“The conversation is courtesy of the fact that you are also what I am looking for.” Taking a step forward, he inched closer. “I'm Chimaera.” 

You blinked at him once. 

Then twice.

Then snickered. 

What bullshit. 

You had read up about the monster on your way here - it was supposedly a weird mix of a lion, a goat and a snake that also happened to breathe fire. This… this was a man? And a man who was clearly fooling you for whatever reason.

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then I'm actually Zeus, King of the Gods-”

“I forget how little you know about this world sweetheart.” He scoffed, taking the glasses off and tucking them inside his jacket. 

You felt your whole body freeze. His eyes….they had slits, like a snake. 

“Did you really think I could live amongst mortals looking like a genetic experiment gone catastrophically wrong? Obviously I have a human form.” 

You hesitated, gulping, realising that regardless of whether this man was indeed the Chimaera, you, like an idiot, were both unarmed and unprotected. 

“What? Still don’t believe me?” He cocked his head. “Oh sweetheart.” 

He waved his hand and the flames of the campfire rose, dancing and wrapping around him. You watched as he smiled at you, the fire not leaving a single mark on his skin, as though it didn’t burn him at all. Finally, the glowing bright orange ran up his neck and disappeared into his mouth. 

The fire breather. You took a step back and then another. Fuck, fuck, fuck- 

“Don't tell me you're also stupid enough to run.” He clicked his tongue. “You may be powerful but you’re no match for me. Besides,” He walked up, taking the help of a dapper looking walking stick that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “I only want to talk.” 

“W-with me?” You stuttered. “About what?” 

“Do you really not know?” 

You did. A tiny voice in your head spoke for you - Fire. 

Your fire. He knew about it. 

“How do you know?” 

“Why wouldn’t I know darling?” He smiled at you in a way that was both sweet and sinister. “Daddy knows everything.” 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“That didn’t come out right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as you looked at him with a mix of confusion, fear and disgust. “What I meant is, I know your fire because it’s mine Y/n….. I’m your father.”

Somewhere far off, thunder rumbled across the sky, filling the silence. There was a storm coming but it was no match for the one already going on inside you. The time for humour was over.

You had already been on the edge of tolerance with Hestia ignoring you all these days and now, to hear such a vile joke about your parentage from a monster was just plain evil. You knew Jeonghan said you weren’t to face the creature on your own but god were you ready to annihilate it. 

“Shut up.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but-” 

“You don’t believe me.” The Chimaera chuckled. “Sit down Y/n, you are in terrible need of a crash course.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Sit.” 

“No.” You crossed your arms, repeating your question. “What, do you mean?” 

The man sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. 

“Did you think gods are the only ones who can mate with mortals?” He shook his head. “Monsters can too, darling. In fact, most mortals are our children.” 

You felt a chill run down your spine. 

“Of course unlike you god spawn they don’t carry our powers but our nature? Oh the desire to wreak havoc, to cause chaos, they do inherit that. Every thief, every killer, every arsonist,” He smiled at you but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They’re all our offspring.” 

The flames of the campfire rose higher, burning brighter, drawing out a memory you had been trying your best to forget. 

“I cannot be your child.” You muttered, heart racing in your chest. “That’s not possible…” 

“Is it that difficult to believe?” He raised an eyebrow. “You could always tell you were different. You never felt like you belonged. Your powers, they’re unlike the others, so brilliant.” His eyes gleamed. “It’s because you’re mine.” 

You felt your guts twist. A half monster. That’s what he was calling you. 

“Look at us Y/n.” He stuck his hand out, the flames coming to life in his hand. “Look at me and tell me we aren’t the same-” 

“No we’re not.” You looked at him defiantly. “I may be hostile and unwelcoming and guarded and a lot of other things but I’m not a bad person….. I’m not evil.” 

“Really?” He chuckled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” 

You glared at him. 

“Denying the truth and suppressing the memories - they won’t change what happened Y/n.” He stepped forward, the slits in his eyes narrowing. “They won’t change the fact that you almost killed someone.” 

No.

No. 

No. 

“And not just anyone, a five year old child, a child a family entrusted you to look after.”

“Enough.” You spoke between gritted teeth. 

“All because he spoke a few harsh truths to your face-” 

“I said enough.” 

But he didn’t stop. 

“You got so angry, you unleashed your powers, burnt down the house and nearly killed that child.” 

“That’s not true-” 

“But it is!” He snarled, raising his voice as the fire around him rose to life, crawling towards you on the forest floor. The amusement in his voice was replaced with something darker, something more menacing. “If the firefighters hadn’t come on time, that child would have died…. All because you didn’t like what he said.” 

“He said I deserved to be alone!” You finally snapped, something hot searing through your veins. “He said my parents abandoned me because I was not good enough for them!” 

The memory finally flashed in your head again, fresh as day. 

For almost a year now, you had been taking on a side job of babysitting kids for rich parents who needed to get away for their late night dates and parties. Usually it was a piece of cake - most kids were already tired from playing the whole day so all you had to do was ensure they finished their food and went to sleep. After that you simply worked on your assignments or flipped through the book collections on the shelves or the channels on the tv, waiting to be relieved of your duties. 

It was just another night like that, another rich family, another big house in the suburb but this time, it was the most uncooperative child you had ever encountered. You had a buttload of work to do that day, your pencils and papers scattered all over the dining table once that little devil had gone to his room to sleep but for some fucking reason, he kept waking up. You could tell he was spoilt, demanding to eat candy at freaking 10pm, secretly drinking soft drinks from the fridge, throwing his toys all over. You had been patient with him for a long time, much beyond your capacity really but when he spilled a bottle full of sauce on a project you had spent hours working on, you raised your voice. 

You expected him to cry and that you’d have to apologise, calm him and put him to sleep, instead, he sneered at you.

He simply shrugged and asked why you were being such a pain in the ass. As though it wasn’t shocking enough to hear such a statement from a child, he went on to ask how your parents handled someone as uptight as you. When you retorted that you didn’t have any parents, he said two words that still haunted you - “No wonder.”

By now you had already reached your limit but when he added that they must have left you because you were so insufferable, something inside you snapped. One minute you were the angriest you had ever been and in the next, there was fire and screams everywhere. 

His cries rang in your ears as you shut them hard trying to block it. The Chimaera’s snickers were what took over instead. 

“Stop trying to run away from what you did-” 

“That was an accident.” You shook your head hard. “That wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t want to hurt him-” 

“Is it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Then why does no one in your precious camp know this story Y/n? The parents sued you, you spent a few nights in jail for arson, in a few days time you are to appear in front of a jury to plead your case yet your lawyer doesn't know a thing that happened - no one can figure out how the fire started and you won’t tell them. You don’t want to tell them because that would mean admitting that you’re different, that you’re not one of them, that you always were and are a loner.” 

You wanted to deny it, just like when Wonwoo was exposing you like this. You wanted to scream and shout and tell this horrible creature it was wrong but words couldn’t leave your mouth - in the face of truth, one often fell silent. 

“But you don’t have to be alone Y/n.” The Chimaera stepped forward, his demeanor suddenly switching from accusatory to sympathetic. “From the moment I sensed your power that night, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been trying to meet you and tell you who you, to bring you home, where you belong-” 

“You….” You looked at him, lips parting in surprise. “You want to take me home?” 

He nodded. “The mortals are anyways too unworthy to understand your power but so are the demigods. Even if you are half god, the fact that you are half monster is all they will see. With them, you’ll always have to hide but with us? You’ll be free. Free to be yourself, free to unleash your powers, free to be unafraid.” 

Your mouth moved but no words left you. 

“Tell me anything but that you’re thinking about the Son of Zeus.” He narrowed his eyes. “That you’ve set your heart on him.”

Stuttering, you looked away. “I..I’m….”

“You mortals and your love,” He rolled his eyes. “The man because of whom you’re so hesitant, do you think he’ll accept you once he learns what you really are? He brought you to his camp to save you from danger but what do you think will happen when he learns that you in fact are the real danger? Do you think he’ll choose you over his boys?” 

You let out a shaky breath as he neared, the flames following him. 

“Come with me Y/n, let’s go to Tartarus, to our family. To those who will truly love and accept you.” You could smell the fire as he stood inches away from you. “All these part-mortals will die one day, will leave you behind, but we won’t. We’ll always be there for you.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Monsters are immortal too Y/n, we never die.” He smiled as the flames encircled you fully and strangely, you could feel the warmth of it. “Killing a monster simply means weakening us and sending us back to Tartarus, our realm. It’s only a matter of time before we gain our strength and come back to the human world. You can never truly kill a monster.”

A family forever. A home forever. That’s what he was offering you. What you had been looking for your whole life. 

“So come with me Y/n.” He held his hand out. “Come where you truly belong-”

“Y/n!” 

You turned at the sound of a frantic voice, spotting Seungcheol far away, between the trees, looking at you terrified. Thunder clapped across the sky as he ran towards you.

“Get away from him, he’s dangerous-” 

“Yes, when all I’ve done is have a conversation.” The man before you rolled his eyes, extending his hand further. “This is what these demigods do, villainize us for no reason.”

At the loud sound of Seungcheol falling you turned around worried, “Cheol careful-”

“Listen to me Y/n.” Your father drew your attention as Seungcheol got up, making his way towards you again. “They’ll do the same to you, they’ll label you a monster either ways, so come with me and we can go home now.” 

“Y/n step back-”

“Y/n come with me-”

“Y/n please don't-”

“Y/n please-”

You shut your eyes, unable to process both their voices, unable to make a choice. The fire around you intensified, burning with a darker orange - flames streamed out of your hands, joining the already raging fire, towering over the two of you. Panicking you tried to stop them but they just wouldn't - it was like that fateful night all over again. You couldn't control it. 

The Chimaera's eyes gleamed victoriously as he watched your fire burn around him. He looked astounded, like he was enthralled by it. 

“You're brilliant Y/n, you're simply brilliant. They don't deserve you-” 

“Y/n can you hear me?” You couldn't see him but his silhouette told you that Seungcheol had neared. “Don't worry, I'll save you, I got you-” 

“She doesn't need you.” Your father snarled, waving his hand, and the fire followed, striking Seungcheol right in his chest, the sheer force sending him hurling back. 

“No!” You screamed, rushing towards him when the Chimaera's hand wrapped around your wrist holding you back. 

“Y/n we need to go-” 

“No.” You muttered, voice shaking. “No, Cheol, no….”

“It doesn't matter, he doesn't matter, let him die. If we don't get out of your fire, it will…..” 

You can't really hear what he's saying anymore. Let him die. 

You would never let someone die. You didn't let that child die, you won't let Seungcheol die, you weren't one of the monsters. You just weren't. 

Freeing your hand from his with a jerk, you pushed him back, sending the tall man stumbling behind. 

“How could you?” You shook your head. “How could you think I'd join you?”

“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He cracked his neck, straightening up. “If you're not going to come on your own, then I'll drag you to hell by myself.” 

Your throat dried as you watched his face morph, his limbs changing into an animal's, the gruesome image of him you had seen in the scrolls coming to life before you - part lion, part goat, part snake. It made your soul tremble. 

“No.” Lower lip quivering, you stepped back. “You're going to hell alone.” 

And you're not really sure what overcame you or how you knew what to do but suddenly the fire around you roared to life, streaks of the flames charging towards the monster, wrapping it in its grip. You watched as its expression went from amusement to disbelief to pure fear and ended with a mocking smile on its face. When the fire fully engulfed him, it exploded, leaving behind only black ash, fluttering in the wind. 

You stumbled, losing your footing, feeling suddenly drained as you fell to your knees, vision blurring. Pain seared through your head, immaculate pain that you had never felt before but somehow it wasn't worse than the one in your chest. The one you felt as you looked at Seungcheol lying on the forest floor in a pool of blood. Getting it together you quickly got up and rushed to him, pulling him into your lap, calling out to him. 

“Cheol, can you hear me?” Tears stung your eyes. “Please please please be okay.” 

He wasn't okay. The impact of the Chimaera's attack sent him straight into the trunk of the tree, his back and his head was severely wounded but the most noticeable thing was the large burn mark right in the middle of his chest. 

“Help.” You whispered, looking around even though you knew it was pointless. There was no one around. “Please help.” 

But the only response you got is the sound of hooves, galloping across the forest floor. Unsure, you pulled Seungcheol closer to you, looking out into the fog between the trees. Whoever it was, whatever it was, if it meant any more harm to Seungcheol you'll fight it. You'll die fighting it but you'll save this man. 

But that wasn't necessary. 

As the sound neared, a familiar looking winged horse jumped out of the mist, neighing at the sight of you. 

Pegasus. Seokmin's horse. 

Finally, finally allowing yourself to breathe, you shut your eyes in relief. Maybe Seungcheol could be saved after all. 

Everything that happened from the moment you came to camp was still a blur. 

The minute Pegasus entered the grounds, all the members rushed towards the two of you, faces filled with terror. Some members carried Seungcheol towards the Great Hall. Someone had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, someone else handed you some strange concoction and told you to drink up. It was all a flurry of motion as everyone made their way to the infirmary, a hall you hadn't seen before, putting Seungcheol down on the bed as Jihoon grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his shirt open. You nearly threw up.

The wound was so much worse than you had thought, red and angry on his skin. The members scurried around, grabbing the different things Jihoon was ordering them to get as you stood in between it all, frozen. It was only when Jihoon smeared a green paste all over Seungcheol's chest and the latter screamed in agony that you snapped out of the trance. He was in so much pain-

“Y/n!” Minghao shook your shoulders, making you turn to him. “I'm asking you something.” 

“W….what?” 

“How did this happen?” His gaze was piercing. “Did you guys find the Chimaera?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“And Seungcheol fought it?” He looked stunned. “Why aren't either of you in your gear, what the hell happened-” 

“Minghao.” Jeonghan's voice echoed through the room like the crack of a whip. “Enough.”

“But we need to know-” 

“No, we don't.” He neared you, pulling you away from Minghao’s grip. “Not right now. She's hurt too.”

You glanced down at your legs, noticing the gashes and wounds all over. You didn't even realise. And why would you? This pain was nothing before what Seungcheol was going through. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” Jun stepped up and quickly sat you on the neighbouring bed, reaching for the iodine and cotton, cleaning you up. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jeonghan turn to Joshua. 

“Take her away from here.” He instructed. “Don't let her step foot in the infirmary till Cheol is fine.” 

You opened your mouth in disbelief. You wanted to argue, you wanted to protest but you couldn't bring yourself to. Not with the way your head was spinning. Minghao's worried face was the last thing you saw before the darkness consumed you. 

—

When you opened your eyes, all you could see was the white of the ceiling. 

You glanced at the camp outside the window. It was submerged in the black of the night, only the usual scattered torches burning around. You looked away - the sight of fire was unbearable.

Groaning you sat up, body sore all over, as you kicked the covers off. The wounds seemed to have fully disappeared, you're guessing courtesy of Jihoon's herbal ointment but the pain in your chest was ever present. 

Limping out of the room, you glanced around, wondering where you were. The abnormal amount of mirrors gave you your answer - House of Aphrodite, Joshua's residence. You walked around, catching sight of the silhouettes of the furniture - you always assumed Joshua would have the prettiest house of them all and that seemed true. At least from the little you could see in the moonlight streaming in. 

The soft snores of the residence owner were what pulled you towards his bedroom. You meant to glance, to see if he was properly asleep and sneak out but the sound of your feet awakened him. 

“Y/n…” He called out to you groggily, raising himself on his elbows. “Why aren't you asleep?” 

How could you sleep with Seungcheol lying in the infirmary like that? When you didn't have a clue how he was doing?

Joshua read your mind. 

“Cheol is fine.” He mumbled, clearing his throat. “He's better.”

“I want to see him-” 

“I know.” He sighed. “But Jihoon has strictly asked no one to go to the infirmary. He doesn't want to he disturbed.”

“Will….” You gulped, stepping onto his room. “Will he be okay?” 

“He will. He has to. For all of us.” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking around with a sigh. “I don't know what to do. I won't be able to do anything till he's fine-”

“Come here.” Joshua beckoned you, scooting over in his bed, making space for you. You blinked at him confused. “Come Y/n.”

Letting out a deep breath, you complied, slipping under his covers. 

“Look up.” 

And you did, eyes meeting the fascinating sight of the sky, stars blinking behind the dark clouds, the moonlight scattered between them. It looked so calming. 

“Didn't you say you liked camping with your father when you were a child?”

You had told him that. A few days after you came to camp, given Joshua was your only confidant, you had told him about the earliest memory you had. It was when you were around 6 years old, on one of the rare days your father was particularly happy, insisting that the two of you drive to the edge of the city and set up a little tent. Of course he was silly to choose a really windy day to camp and also more than incapable of setting up a tent so you simply watched as it flew away and burst out laughing. That night your father rolled out two sleeping bags side by side as the two of you talked about the stars while the campfire burnt away. 

Somehow now, it made sense why the flames didn't extinguish in the wind. It was you. Your power over fire, a power you got from your real father, not the man who's love, attention and validation you craves for twenty five years of your life. That man wasn't your father. 

Joshua turned at the sound of you letting out a deep breath, finding your eyes shut tight. You didn't want to see the stars anymore. 

“Y/n,” He turned towards you. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine.” You mumbled. “I should probably sleep….” 

The lack of response told you that Joshua didn't believe you. You turned to glance at him, noticing his worried expression.

“Okay, I'm not fine,” You confessed. “But I will be.” 

“And I will be there for you.” He reassured, taking your hand. Sighing softly you scooted closer to him, burying your face at the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around you. 

“Thank you Shua.” You whispered. “Thank you.” 

But before you could hear what he had to say in return, you drifted away, falling asleep.

Although you couldn't ever bring yourself to wake up for training at the crack of dawn, you somehow found yourself wide awake today. Joshua hadn't moved an inch in his sleep, still holding on to you. As much as you found his arms warm and welcoming, you had to go see Seungcheol. You had to see if he was fine.

Slowly slipping out of his embrace, you slid out of Joshua's bed, glancing at him one last time before grabbing his jacket and silently stepping out. 

The morning dew had made the grass all wet and squelchy, your footsteps very apparent in the silence but thankfully there was no one in an audible radius. The flames of the torch continued to burn low which meant training hadn't started yet, or maybe there was none today, you didn't know. Quickening your pace you walked over to the Great Hall, locating the infirmary beside it. 

Through the window you glanced in the dimness, recognising the silhouette of Seungcheol asleep on the bed and another someone sitting on the couch beside him, his head rolled back and mouth slightly parted in his sleep - Jeonghan. 

You wanted to step in, to sit beside Seungcheol, to see how he was but somehow you couldn't move, not with all that weight in your chest. 

“You shouldn't be here.” 

You covered your mouth, preventing the shriek from leaving your being as you turned, spotting Jihoon behind you, a tray of herbs in his hand. “Jeonghan was very clear about not allowing you to go near Seungcheol.”

“And since when does Jeonghan tell everyone what to do?” 

“He's interim leader.” Jihoon sighed. “In the absence of Cheol, his word is the rule.”

“It's not like Cheol's gone.” You rolled your eyes but when they fell on Jihoon's grim expression you gulped. “Joshua said he was better.” 

“Better than before, yes.” Jihoon agreed. “I've fixed his bruises and mended his bones and everything else is healing but…” 

“But?” 

“That burn on his chest.” He sighed. “I don't know how to fix it.”

“Y-you can't fix the burn?” 

He shook his head. “Certain things cause damage beyond repair. Zeus’s lightning, Ares's sword, Chimaera's fire, these are nearly impossible to heal from.”

“Nearly? That means there's some way.” 

“There is.” He nodded slowly. “The Chimaera hasn't been heard of in ages so most healers don't bother to learn the remedies for his fire but luckily I did.” 

“So you can fix him.” You looked at the man before you, eyes shimmering with hope. 

But Jihoon shook his head. “I would've been able to if that was the Chimaera's fire, but….. it's not.” 

It felt like the ground had been pulled from under you. 

“Every fire is different, every fire has its own pattern, its own signature. One can tell by the burn, who's fire caused the injury and Seungcheol’s wound is not from the Chimaera's fire. It’s someone else's.” 

You took a few stumbling steps back, sweat running down your neck. 

You. 

Your fire. 

It was your fire which hurt Seungcheol.

This was all your fault. 

Jihoon frowned. “Y/n, do you know anything about-”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

With that you left behind a baffled Jihoon, turning on your heel and running out of the Great Hall, straight into the forest. 

And for a long time, you didn't stop running. 

By the time you returned to camp, it was nearly noon. 

You could tell that the members had been looking for you because the moment you stepped into the dining hall, Soonyoung nearly knocked you over with a bone crushing hug. 

“Fuck, Y/n, where have you been?” He held you tighter. “We were worried sick.” 

“Someone call Hansol and his hounds back.” Minghao spoke from across the room. “Tell him she's here and she's fine.” 

Seungkwan muttered that he would do so before shooting you a concerned look, and leaving the hall. Joshua stepped up as Soonyoung finally let you go. 

“I was worried when I woke up and you weren't there.” 

“Is that where you're crashing now?” Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Don't worry, not for long, your new residence is coming along really well, it should be ready in a few days.” 

You scoffed inwardly. What was the point?

“Thanks.” You muttered as Chan walked up to you with a glass of water in his hands, looking down pointedly. 

“Your feet are injured again.” 

“I went for a run.” You confessed. “Had to clear my mind.” 

“Are you that used to punishment rounds first thing in the morning?” Seokmin chuckled. “I'm going to have to find a different punishment for you if you're enjoying it.” 

A small smile grew on your face as the boys began to argue, talking one over the other. From across the room Wonwoo, who was the only one who hadn't approached you, looked at you expressionlessly, his eyes hooded. Gulping you turned away, just in time for Jun to drag you to the table, putting down a plate of food, insisting you eat. The rest of the boys too scattered around, grabbing their own plates, serving themselves, settling in one by one. At the same time, Seungkwan walked in with a tired, dirt clad and unamused Hansol. 

“Don't ever do that again.” Hansol, who hadn't spoken a word to you all these days, mumbled, walking in. 

“Don't worry.” You took a bite of Jun's delicious bibimbap, mind at undeniable peace now that you had made a decision. “I won't trouble anyone anymore.” 

You spent the rest of the day in the Great Hall with the boys. You had asked for their company, mumbling under your breath and without asking why, they complied immediately. Of course Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Jihoon were still in the infirmary but the rest of the boys were scattered around the hall all day. 

At most times it was quiet, everyone doing their own thing in the silence. Some of them were reading, some were working, Minghao was cleaning his weapons, Jun and Mingyu were consistently cooking, Wonwoo was just looking out of the window. 

It was only after dinner that everyone finally dispersed, retreating to their cabins. Joshua offered his residence for you to crash again and you agreed, stating you needed to grab your clothes, shower and you'll be there. Nodding he left with the rest, as you made your way to Seungcheol's house. 

For the longest time, this place had been your safe haven but stepping into the empty space today only further broke your heart. You had made the right choice. 

Heading to your room, you grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed some of your essentials - clothes, laptop, books etc. Throwing on a hoodie, you gave your room one last longing look before closing the door behind you. It was only as you stepped out of the large entrance that you felt the soft fur caressing your leg. 

Natalie.

Bending down, you rubbed her fondly as she looked up at you with her big cute eyes. 

“I'm going Nat.” You softly muttered, “As much as I hoped, I don't belong here. I've done nothing but be a menace, attract trouble and worse, put lives in danger. I can't do that to these boys anymore, I just can't….you understand that right? 

She looked at you like she did.

“I would bring you along, but you're a creature of Olympus, of the heavens and I,” You let out a shaky breath. “I'm on my way to hell.” 

Dropping a small kiss on its crown, you smiled at it sadly.

“You'll be happy here, there's Jun’s farm, you can follow Wonwoo all day, you can play with Daisy and the hounds too. You'll be fine without me.”

She whined, louder than usual and it hurt but you knew this was for the best. You had to go and you had to go alone. 

Throwing your duffel bag over your shoulder, you set out towards the camp entrance, ready to leave it all behind, ready to go. You had people here who loved you, people who were annoyed with you, people who were sick of you, peepple who ignored you, but no one hated you, not yet at least. And you wanted to leave before that happened. Because you were sure if they found out it was you who injured Seungcheol, they wouldn't forgive you. 

Taking a deep resolved breath, you took a step forward - it was time to head to hell. 

But before you could take another step, the voice of hell itself stopped you. 

“Going already?”

You turned at the sound of his voice, looking around, chills running down your spine when you didn't spot anyone. 

“I did say you'd look for the first chance to go but I didn't think it would be so soon.” 

You turned again, spotting him right by the last torch of the path, the glow of the torch illuminating his sharp features. He most definitely wasn't there a second ago. 

“Wonwoo.” 

“Y/n.” He stepped forward. “As the Son of Underworld, I'm here to give you a quick briefing before you decide to make hell your new home - it's very hot and very, very stuffy.” 

Eyes widening, you stuttered. “H-how did you know that I was…that I wanted to-” 

“Do something utterly stupid?” He raised his eyebrow. 

And suddenly, he vanished. Straight into thin air. One second you were looking at him and the next, he was gone. And just like that, he appeared again, like he never left. 

Oh.

Of course.

Wonwoo, Son of Hades, had the power of invisibility. Of course he knew - he was always watching. 

Your mind raced back to every instance you had been alone - the library doors randomly opening, the crackling sound of the fallen leaves near the campfire, as though someone was walking, the strange feeling of someone constantly watching. It was all him and that meant there was a lot he saw and a lot more he knew. 

“If things take a turn and you're forced to face it, do whatever it takes to fight it. Don't think, don't analyse, just do it.” 

Wonwoo knew about your fire.

“Why didn't you tell me you knew?” You looked at him, tone unnecessarily accusatory. “Why didn't you say anything?” 

“This was yours to tell.” He shrugged. “I happened to find out by chance.” 

“You mean by stalking.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “You had no right to-”

“I didn't mean to.” He emphasized again.”I wasn't aware you knew your powers or that you were hiding them.”

“Does anyone else know?” 

Wonwoo shook his head. “I told you, it's not mine to tell.”

Sighing, you relaxed your shoulders. Although you were glad that no one else knew, somehow Wonwoo knowing felt like a relief. 

“Why not though?” You glanced at him curiously. “Why would you keep someone as dangerous as me on camp?”

“You're not dangerous Y/n, just different.” 

“Just? Wonwoo….” You took a deep shaky breath. “It was my fire that injured Seungcheol.” 

For a second, he was quiet. “How?” 

“It was an accident-” You mumbled, scared. “I didn't know the Chimaera would be able to use it like that-” 

“So that makes the monster dangerous.” He justified. “You're untrained, that's all.” 

That's all? 

“It's not that simple.” You threw your hands in the air. “You have no idea-” 

“No I don't.” He interjected. “No one does because there's never been a demigod like you but that doesn't make you worthy of going to hell.” 

“You think I'm going to hell to punish myself?” You raised an eyebrow. “Wonwoo, I belong there, perhaps more than you do.” 

For the first time you saw an expression on his face, one of confusion. 

“The Chimaera wasn't hunting me Wonwoo, it was trying to bring me home.” Shutting your eyes, you let out a breath. “The Chimaera is my father.”.

You expected the man before you to look shocked or at least a little scared but his expression turned impassive again. 

“So?” Wonwoo crossed his arms. “Hades is my father.”

“It's not the same-”

“But it is.” Wonwoo exhaled. “My father isn't an Olympian Y/n, he's not one of those gods, he's not worshiped like the rest. Children of Hades do not live on camps, yet here I am.”

Oh. 

You had no idea. 

“It doesn't matter what your parentage is, the problem is you don't consider this place as home, you don't consider these people as yours-” 

“That's not true-”

“If it wasn't, then instead of running away you'd have been in the infirmary, telling Jihoon about your fire.” He snapped. “So he can figure out how to heal Seungcheol.” 

You blinked at him at a loss of words. 

“I didn't think….” 

“That's the problem Y/n, you don't think.” Wonwoo looked away, sighing. “You do the first thing that comes to your mind, regardless of the consequences.” 

He was right. You always were impulsive but this time you were also wrong. You should've thought of Seungcheol first, everything else be damned. 

“If I tell Jihoon about….me, can he save Cheol?” 

“If he studies your fire, he might be able to figure out how-” 

“Let's go to the infirmary.” You interrupted him, determined. Even if saving Seungcheol meant exposing yourself, you'd do it. You'd do anything. 

But your feet stood rooted to the ground, like the fear of truth coming out hadn't left your being.

“C-can you come with me…” You looked at the man before you. “Please?” 

For the first time as you walked, Wonwoo followed, staying by your side. 

“Y/n.” Jihoon looked at you as you stepped into the infirmary. “You shouldn't be here…”

Behind him Jeonghan, who was sitting on the edge of Seungcheol’s bed, stood up. 

“I know but-” 

“Please.” Jihoon whispered urgently. “You don't want to mess with Jeonghan now. Not with Cheol not getting any better-” 

“She's here to help.” Wonwoo spoke from behind, leaning against the entrance. “At least listen to her first.” 

“Go on.” Jeonghan spoke from behind, stepping up. “What is it?”

“You said it was someone else’s fire that hurt Cheol right?”

Jihoon frowned. “Yeah, do you know who?” 

Stretching your hand out, you held it before him. His eyes flickered between you and your empty hand, expression utterly confused. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your palm and like always, flames suddenly burned to life in your hand. Gasping, Jihoon took a terrified step back, eyes widened. 

“You… you can…”

“I can.” You finally admitted, even to yourself. “I can make fire.” 

“How is that possible….” Jihoon stared at your hand lost in thought. 

Your eyes though, drifted towards Jeonghan who looked unaffected. No shock, no surprise, no fear. Like he already knew. Like he always knew. 

You looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo. “You told him? You said you didn't-” 

“How pathetic do you deem my intellect Y/n?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “He didn't have to say anything, it was obvious.” 

“What do you mean obvious?” You lowered your hand, the flames dying out. 

“Your lawsuit.” He cocked his head. “We claimed the fire was an accident, like you had said but the defense argued that there was no way the fire could have spread so fast unless it was pre planned. At that point, I suspected you might be a fire bender. Of course, most fire benders are the children of Hephaestus but there weren't many Hestia children to rule out the possibility but when the house was examined, there was no identifiable source of the fire. Which meant it started out of thin air, that meant you weren't just a fire bender, you were making it too. Given your history of having an untraceable aura, I thought something was not aligning - something was different about you.” 

You gulped, unsure about verifying his theory. From the corner of your eye, you caught Wonwoo nodding at you encouragingly. 

“I am different.” Your eyes flickered between the men before you. “At the Nyx forest, the Chimaera spoke to me. He told me I was his daughter.”

A thick silence descended upon the room. So quiet you could practically hear your heartbeat. Yet again Jihoon looked stunned while Jeonghan looked like the cogwheels in his brain were spinning at full speed. 

“I've never heard about a half god, half monster.” You winced at the term as Jihoon looked far off, lost in thought. “I'm not sure what that would even look like-” 

“Me.” You sighed. “It would look like me.”

“What else?” Jeonghan chimed in. “What else did the Chimaera say?” 

“N-nothing much, he just kept insisting that I go with him to Tartarus, that it's where I belong-”

“You belong here.” Jeonghan interjected, features molding into slight anger. “Whatever it claims the other half of you is, you are half god. You were identified by the oracle, you pledged to be a part of camp seventeen and we swore to protect you as one of us so if there's anywhere you are meant to be, it's here.” 

Tears pricked your eyes hearing the conviction in his voice. Never before had someone been so insistent that you belonged. 

“I will look into what the Chimaera said means for you being part of the camp but nothing will change the fact that you are one of us.”

Beside him Jihoon nodded. You didn't see but behind you, Wonwoo nodded too.

“Jeonghan I…” You balled your hands into fists. You had thought a lot before making this choice. You knew it was the right one. “I appreciate you saying that but I just want to help Cheol however I can. Once he’s better, I will be heading to Tartarus.” 

“Why?” Jihoon looked at you questioningly. “Why would you choose to go there?” 

“Because….” You felt your voice get stuck in your throat. “Because I…”

“You think you’re meant to be there but you’re not.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “Y/n, whether we turn out to be good or bad, it's a choice. It's always our choice. Whether you choose to go or choose to stay I want you to know that camp seventeen chose you, we always will. It's up to you to choose us.” 

“I….” 

“You don't have to decide now.” Jeonghan shook his head. “Let Jihoon study your fire first. Let us save Cheol. Once he comes around, you can tell us your decision. Whatever it is, we'll all accept it.” 

Staring at the ground, you nodded. Seungcheol first, everything else came later. 

The next few days passed a lot slower than usual. 

Under Jeonghan's instructions, all camp training had been suspended indefinitely. While some members were added to the shift roster to increase the security of the camp, others were sent out with missions to procure the ingredients Jihoon asked for. Apparently some of them were so rare, members wouldn't return home for days but no one ever complained. Everyone silently followed orders and did what they were instructed to do. 

You, on the other hand, had nothing to do. Jeonghan simply told you to be available as and when Jihoon required you. Apollo's son had been spending all his time nose deep in books and ancient texts, scribbling away and brewing all kinds of potions and concoctions. Whenever any of his remedies didn't work, he'd call for you and ask to see your fire again. Sometimes he told you to burn something, sometimes he told you to just hold the flame as long as you could. Sometimes he just wanted you to sit by him. Maybe he didn't like to be as alone as he came across.

On the other side of the room, Jeonghan didn't leave Seungcheol even for a second. All day and all night, he sat on that couch, right next to him - he ate there, he slept there, he went through his case files there, he was eternally glued to his friends side. Somewhere deep down, you felt a little jealous. You'd never seen friendship like theirs and you didn't know if you could ever have something like that in your life. 

But sometimes, a part of you said maybe you could. 

When you weren't required in the infirmary and were tired of breathing the camp air, you'd set off, going deeper into the woods, finding a log and sitting all by yourself. But you were never alone. The rustling sound of the leaves or the soft sounds of breath in the pin drop silence told you you weren't alone, he was always there. 

Wonwoo. 

You couldn't see him but you knew he was around, watching over you and somehow it didn't feel intrusive - There was a solace his presence offered that you couldn't explain. It was funny though, how you went from being completely ignored by him to being constantly looked after - in hindsight maybe he always cared for you. 

Clearly they all cared for you. Although Mingyu, Chan and Soonyoung were the ones who were sent away to missions, the first thing they did after enquiring about Cheol was come looking for you - they wanted to make sure you were fine too. Jun and Minghao always made sure you ate, Seokmin, Hansol and Seungkwan had taken over with the building of your house and Joshua was your constant companion all night - after every long, tiring and unsuccessful day, it was in his arms that you found yourself dozing off. Although the rest of the members did not know about your parentage yet, again thanks to Jeonghan's instructions, a part of you now felt that they would accept you, regardless of what your father claimed. 

But the big question was, what was the right choice? With you in camp, was it safe? Sure you had managed to send your father back to Tartarus but it was only a matter of time before he got stronger and came looking for you again. He had already sent his minions once and clearly he didn't care about any collateral damage. You were still very much a threat to everyone, you'd always be one. Maybe, after Cheol regained consciousness, it was best you left. 

You told yourself you'd leave but one look at the way the boys bickered and laughed around the dining hall and you'd find your resolve wavering. You didn't want to leave them, you didn't want to go. But the gnawing feeling of what might happen to them in your company always brought you back to square one - it was a never ending loop of indecision. 

And it was that loop that was going on in your mind as you watched Jeonghan flipping through the multiple files he had laid out on the bed beside Seungcheol’s. 

“Look, the case appears simple but it isn't so straightforward,” Jeonghan looked up, tucking the pencil over his ear. The two of you were finally going over the details of the lawsuit. “The Parks, the family that is suing you, is doing so for two reasons - damage of personal property and attempting to harm their son.”

You glanced at the papers he was looking at.

“That's where it becomes interesting. Even though you caused considerable trouble and more importantly, endangered their child, they aren't trying to get you prosecuted as a criminal,” Jeonghan's eyes gleamed. “They filed a civil lawsuit.” 

“Yes, they want me to compensate them monetarily. ”  

“Think about it, if you had a child-” You didn't want to think about that at all actually. “-and if someone tried to hurt her or him, what would be your response? Asking for money or asking for justice?” 

“I would've gone berserk.” You muttered. “I'd want them punished.”

“Precisely, instead, they're trying to get money out of a broke architecture student.” Jeonghan pointed out. “Doesn't make sense right?” 

You shook your head. 

“Usually in cases of property damage, most people seek insurance payouts but the Parks didn't and this is why.” He pushed a paper towards you. “Wonwoo managed to get his hands on the police report-”

“How?”

“The man does some secret government job, he's got his hands everywhere.” 

“Huh.” You looked around, wondering if he was listening. 

“He's not here.” Jeonghan brushed off, pointing at the paper again. “The point is, the police report mentions two things of major importance - One, they have no idea how the fire even started. Two, the Parks household did not implement any fire safety measures in their residence.” 

“So…. they're not eligible for an insurance payout, right?” 

Jeonghan nodded. “That is why they are pressing civil charges against you, so they can get the money from you, by labelling you as an arsonist.”

“But I am an arsonist.” 

Jeonghan sighed. “Okay you are, but they don't have any proof and that's what our argument will focus on. We will first insist that the police identify the source of fire and then we will add that you had no motive. You didn't know the family before all this, you had no personal connections, and you had no motive to harm.” 

“But the child….” You thought about that night again. “Jeonghan, he saw me start the fire.” 

“He won't remember.” Jeonghan sat back down on his chair. “The Demigod Union took care of that.” 

“The what?” 

“There's a body in every city that handles all demigod related issues called the Demigod Union. Luckily Mingyu was one of the firefighters at the scene so when he sensed the high levels of Aura, he alerted the DU. The senior members gave the child a memory potion while he was hospitalized and it replaced his memories - he only remembers sleeping and waking up to a room full of fire.” 

“If that's the case, he couldn’t have told the Parks anything so why would they think I was trying to harm their child?” 

“Sympathy.” Jeonghan stated like it was obvious. “They're trying to sway the jury by showing their five year old child as a victim. Hence we need to be careful and make the right moves, then we should be able to win this case.” 

You nodded, leaning back against your chair. One battle hadn't even ended and another had begun. You glanced at Jeonghan who seemed lost in his stack of papers again. There was scribbles everywhere, notes in the margins, yellow highlights marking points. Evidently he had done all his research thoroughly. 

“When did you even do all this?” 

“I take my job seriously.” He muttered without looking up. 

“Even the pro bono ones?”

“A case is a case.” He shrugged. “Besides, you are one of us.” 

There he was, hitting you with words that was only making choosing harder. 

You looked at the sleeping Seungcheol. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took, the bandages covering his wound, moving with it. A few days ago you wondered if you would ever get to see him again, but here you were today, right by his side.

“When you saw Seungcheol, did you know it was my fire that hurt him?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “Not at first, but when Jihoon said the fire didn’t seem like the Chimaera’s, I suspected it might have been yours.”

“If you didn't know, then why did you send me away that day?”

‘Because you were untrained and emotional.” He turned to you. “It takes a lot of training for demigods to gain control over their powers. Extreme emotion, be it happiness, sadness, anger…. They tend to make you unstable. I knew you were upset about Cheol so I didn’t want his condition to make you feel worse.”

“So you sent me away for….me?” 

“For everyone’s safety.” He corrected. 

“But when you realised it was my fault, why didn’t you tell Jihoon?” You looked at him curiously. “Why didn’t you confront me?”

Jeonghan sat on the couch, looking far off, growing silent.

“Jeonghan…?”

“I asked Jihoon to mention the unknown fire if you came asking for updates. I also asked Wonwoo to stop you from leaving.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to know what you would choose to do.” 

“You were testing me?” You raised an eyebrow. “What if I ran away? What if Wonwoo couldn't stop me?” 

“Then I would have hunted you down no matter where on Earth you were and… “ He sighed. “And would have begged you to help me. Begged you to save him.”

You blinked at him, just a little stunned. “He really is important to you, isn’t he?” 

Jeonghan nodded. “He saved my life in more ways than one, you won’t understand. No one does.” 

“Jeonghan I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-”

“I don’t blame you for your choices.” He sighed. “So I hope you won't hold mine against me.” 

“I…” You gulped, not quite sure if he was still talking about prioritising saving his friend over keeping your secret. “I don't mind that you chose him over me.” 

Jeonghan stared at you for just a little longer than usual before he nodded and turned away. “I need my afternoon nap.”

And with that, he turned away, snuggling into the couch and shutting his eyes. Within a few seconds, the soft sounds of his deep breaths filled the room. 

The conversation was over. 

Seungcheol wasn't getting any better. 

Though tension was palpable in the whole camp, perhaps the members chose to look at the bright side - he wasn't getting worse. 

Then the day came when Jihoon said he had exhausted all options, that he didn't know what to try anymore. Everyone had just about given up hope when he called for you one more time - 

“What colour is your fire when you're in pain?” 

You had no idea.

You spent half an hour after that trying your best to remember, and when nothing could jog your memory, you curled your fingers into a fist and slammed the glass pane of the nearby window, blood furiously trickling down your knuckles. When Jeonghan took a worried step forward, you raised your injured hand to stop him before it spontaneously burst into flames….Blue ones. 

Jihoon scribbled a quick note of it before tending to your wound, removing each glass piece embedded in your skin slowly. As you winced, he handed you a potion that he claimed would help with the pain and you gulped it down quickly remembering how bitter it tasted last time. Surprisingly, you noticed it wasn't too bad, nor was it the same colour as before. Though you didn't notice that Jihoon had visibly frozen, like a realisation had dawned upon him. 

The moment he was done dressing your wound he got to work, preparing what he called his final remedy. He said if this didn't work, then nothing could wake Seungcheol up anymore. 

That night, the whole camp waited with bated breath. You were lying on Joshua's bed with your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you but neither of you were asleep. Sleep was unimaginable now. Everyone just wanted to hear the news. And at around 8am in the morning, just as everyone was headed towards the dining hall, it came.

Zephyr, who hadn't stopped patrolling the skies all these days, suddenly flew down, over the heads of the strolling members, a gust of wind left behind in its wake as it made its way towards the infirmary. 

There was only one thing that could make it do that. 

Seungcheol's call. 

He was awake.

Cheering, all the boys rushed towards the Great Hall, running as fast as they could. You felt your knees buckle and hit the ground as you held your chest in relief.

He was fine.

Seungcheol was fine. 

.

.

.

That meant it was time to go. 

“Your name was the first thing he took.” Joshua spoke from behind you as you shoved a spoon of cereal in your mouth, sitting at the dining table. “He's been awake for days, why won't you go see him Y/n?” 

It had been nearly a week since Seungcheol gained consciousness in the infirmary. Since then, the dining hall had been unsurprisingly empty - all the members began to camp at the infirmary first then at his house where he was moved after a few days. You hadn't visited him in either place. 

“I will.” You munched slowly. “I'm just waiting for him to get better.” 

“He is better.” 

“But not as good as before, right?” 

“It's a matter of time.” Joshua slid onto the bench, sitting beside you. “Jihoon said he'll be walking in a day or two.” 

You nodded, humming. “That's good.”

“Hey.” Hand below your chin, Joshua turned your face towards him. “What's wrong, love? You were so worried all these days and now….”

“I don't know.” You whispered, voicing your fear. “I don't know how to face him. I don't know what he'll think of me when he learns it's all my fault-”

“If you don't know, then ask him.” 

Every cell in your body froze at the familiar voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

Seungcheol. 

“Chief.” Joshua quickly got up and bowed. “You're….are you okay?”

Seungcheol didn't answer, so you figured he nodded. As you heard his footsteps near, you turned, shutting your eyes and bowing, not looking at him. 

“Shua, ask Chan to start the car. Y/n and I have to go somewhere.” 

Taken aback, you looked up but Seungcheol had walked out already, Joshua following behind, throwing you an apologetic look. 

Did he know? Had he decided to drop you to Tartarus by himself? 

You had meant to leave the day Seungcheol opened his eyes. You had even packed all your things again but the boys claimed he wasn’t entirely fine yet. So you told yourself you’ll leave the next day and then the next and then the next and now here you were, with him finally well enough. 

You didn't know what to do, at least until the sound of Chan's taxi horn resounded in the camp - then you quickly put your bowl in the sink and rushed out. When you reached the car, Seungcheol was already sitting in the passenger seat while surprisingly Seungkwan sat at the back, scooting over to make space for you. No sooner than you got in Seungcheol instructed Chan to go and he did, setting off into the forest at full speed. 

The whole of the ride you looked down at the hands on your lap, fingers fiddling with each other nervously. When you began to pick at the skin beside your nails, Seungkwan's hand wrapped around yours, stopping you. You were grateful for that, especially with lightning consistently flashing across the sky, his hand over yours was a comforting weight. But he didn't need to hold on for long, not with the car stopping before a very familiar landmark tree. Getting out of the car, Seungcheol opened the door on your side, instructing both of you to get out and Seungkwan to go sit in front. Puzzled, the two of you complied and Seungcheol went over to Chan, 

“Both of you head back to camp.” 

Chan looked confused. “But what about you and Y/n?”

“My range rover is still here. I'll bring it back.” He stepped back. “You two should leave.” 

Without questioning any further, Chan nodded, reversing the car as Seungkwan shot you a worried look. As they left, disappearing at the end of the road, Seungcheol began to walk into the darkness of the forest while you stood rooted to the ground, unsure about what was happening. It was only when lightning furiously struck the olive tree and it burst into flames that you took a terrified step away, following him. 

By the time your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you found Seungcheol’s silhouette standing by his car that had been left here abandoned for days now. Pulling his keys from his pants, he unlocked it, getting into the driver's seat before turning on the engine, the car and the headlights roaring to life. 

“Get in.” 

You heard his voice over the soft humming of the engine and obeyed, not wanting to fuel his already intensified anger. Seungcheol stared far off at the trees illuminated by the white lights of the car, lost in thought. You didn't dare look at him. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, though it had been barely a minute, he let out a sigh and turned to you. Wordlessly, he tugged you towards him, hand gripping your thigh as he pulled you into his lap. Although surprised, you didn't resist, letting him wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Overwhelmed, you hugged him back, as tight as you could, like you never want to let him go. You could feel Seungcheol’s lips curl into a smile against your skin.

“I missed you.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against your neck. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you finally smiled after days. “I…. I missed you too.” 

It turned out astronomy student Seungcheol was a resourceful young man.

After nearly fifteen minutes, when the two of you finally broke from the embrace, he headed to the boot of his car and pulled out a tent and a couple of camping supplies - apparently he spent a lot of nights out in the middle of nowhere, studying the stars. You sat and watched as he skillfully erected the tent, gathered some wood and started a campfire. You stared at the flames, thoughts racing in your mind. Camping had once been a very bittersweet memory for you, and you didn't know how today was going to turn out. 

When Seungcheol beckoned you to sit next to him by the campfire, you walked over and sat across him instead. It was high time for a conversation; for both of you to tell your truths. 

Seungcheol sighed, “I suppose it's time we talked.”  

You nodded. 

“I know my behaviour over the past many days must be confusing for you.”

You nodded again.

“Before I explain myself I just want to make one thing clear.” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n.” 

Your lips parted in surprise. You didn't see that coming. 

“I have since the day you stepped into camp, and I saw the way you looked at me, I knew you liked me too.” 

“Then why….”

“Do you know why it's always dark in Nyx forest?” 

You blinked at the sudden switch of topic. 

“Because she's the goddess of the night?” 

“Yes, but she's also the goddess of darkness - the trees of her forest are so dense, they don't even allow light in.” 

“Okay….” 

“Which means other than the Underworld, this is the only place that cannot be seen from the skies, the only place my father has no eyes.” 

Zeus?

“You mean…” And you finally realised. “The reason behind everything you were doing is…..your father?” 

“I admit at first I didn't make a move on you because I didn't know if you truly liked me or if it was the….” 

“....usual attraction women have towards you?” 

Seungcheol gulped. “Yeah that, but when your feelings remained consistent after my initial rejection that day in my house, I figured it was real.” 

“Then why didn't you kiss me when I came back?” You remembered the lightning in the sky when the two of you were giggling away in the arch of the House of Zeus. Seungcheol's power was thunder, but when you were around him, it had always been lightning. It had always been Zeus. “Was it because of your father?”

Seungcheol nodded slowly, “Ever since your discovery, Olympus has been disturbed. An undetectable aura…. Everyone knew something was different about you.” Oh you knew what was different. “My father wasn't happy that I took you into my camp, so he made it very clear that I stay away from you. Otherwise he… would do what was necessary to keep you away.” 

“Zeus… threatened me?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Ever since then I have been on the edge around you, always guarded, always alert, always nervous…” Oh. His force field.  No wonder. “That's why I was surprised you could touch me without being electrocuted. But now that I think about it, maybe the force field wasn't active to begin with. Perhaps I was selfish, perhaps I wasn't antagonised enough and my desire to have you was greater than my desire to protect you.”

“Cheol….” You sighed, getting up and sitting beside him, taking his hand in yours. You had no idea he felt this deeply about you - all this while you assumed he didn't care. “I don't understand, why does your father care so much about….us? We're grown adults, we can make our own choices.” 

Seungcheol grew silent. Then he took a deep breath, 

“Olympus is…dying.” You frowned as he continued. “Yes the Gods are immortal but they've lived for too long, they've ruled for too long. After the Titans, they had been undefeated, ruling for centuries and now they're looking to step down on their own. They're looking for heirs and… Zeus wants me to be his.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears. Seungcheol….King of Olympus? Of course Zeus didn't want him to have anything to do with you, you were an anomaly, part monster. 

“Do you want to be…. I mean, is that what you want?” 

“Being King of Gods? I don't know, I was never asked if it's what I wanted. For as long as I remember, ever since I was a little boy, Zeus only told me to train hard, to become worthy.” He sighed. “I don't know about being King but I do want to be branded as his heir - having Zeus's blessing would make winning the quests a lot easier. I want that for my boys.” 

You scoffed disbelievingly. “Is winning a sparring competition really worth it?” 

Seungcheol’s expression was incredulous. “Winning the quest isn't just winning a title Y/n. The camp which wins is set free - it is disbanded and the members are allowed to return to the mortal world, to live their own lives, have careers and friends and families. Winning the quest means winning freedom.”

Oh. 

“The boys have been working hard for years yet we haven't been able to win a season. If I'm branded Heir of Zeus, it will be easier to make alliances, to gain favors. His Mark would change the whole game.” 

“His Mark?”

“His heir would carry some sort of identifiable symbol of Zeus called His Mark, I don't know what exactly, he hasn't officially branded me yet.” 

“Why not?”

“He still doesn't feel I'm worthy enough, he thinks I can do better. Train harder, lead the team better, choose my partner better….”

The two of you fell in a painful silence. 

“Y/n as much as I want His Mark, I want you too-” 

“But you can't have both can you?”

Seungcheol slowly shook his head. 

“You can't have both anywhere but here…” You slowly added. “Zeus isn't watching you here right?”

“He isn't but all that lightning earlier…. those were warnings. I suppose he suspects.” Seungcheol looked up, eyes meeting the trees instead of the sky. “I hoped this would seem like an attempt to get the car back but I guess not.” 

“Does that mean this is the first and last time we're going to be civil with each other?” You chuckled sadly. “Are we going to go back to the Cold War?”

“Y/n,” Seungcheol turned to you, gripping your hands tighter. “Let me just become his heir, officially that is, receive His Mark, win the quest and then we can do whatever - he can't stop me.”

“So you…you want us to work?”

He nodded. “Of course I do. Y/n I mean it, I really do like you and I want us to at least have a chance - that is if…. if you want me too.” 

You did want him. Of course you wanted him, but the fact still remained - you were part monster. Would Seungcheol, the leader who put his boys above all, the man who was to rule the heavens, still want you if he knew? It was only right to tell him the truth but…

Perhaps you took a little too long to muse. You were drawn out of your thoughts as Seungcheol retracted his hand.

“It's completely okay if you don't…” 

You gripped his fingers, looking at him determined. Seungcheol seemed confused by your mismatching actions but he waited for you to say something. Instead, you showed him.

Leaning forward you pressed your lips against his, softly at first before he tilted his head further capturing your mouth in a frenzy. 

The two of you kissed like teenagers in the heat, licking, sucking, moaning into each other's mouths. Lips swollen, neck almost catching a cramp from the angle, but you continued, sliding into his lap, your legs across his, whimpering when he squeezed your thighs. Instinctively, you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and lifted it, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor after which you realised….. the forest was watching. 

“What's wrong?” Seungcheol looked at you concerned, trying his best not to ogle at your breasts. 

“Feels like we're being watched.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him so you didn't feel so exposed. 

Laughing, Seungcheol looked up at you fondly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Everything in the Nyx forest embodies her, she's present everywhere.” 

“So we're going to have sex in…in front of a goddess?” 

“Oh we're going to have sex?” He grinned at you teasingly. 

“Cheol…” You whined. “Yes, yes we are,  but I just don't know about here…” 

“Nyx isn't just any goddess, she's a primordial. Unlike the gods, she doesn't have a human form. She's just an entity, spread through her realm.” 

“So she just… exists?” 

He nodded. “She doesn't come under the rules that govern the Gods - she's above and beyond the inhabitants of Olympus.”

“Does that mean she won't tattle on Zeus about us?”

Seungcheol laughed, placing a butterfly kiss on your nose, like you were too cute for him to handle. “She is the one god Zeus is terrified of so no, he won't ask and she won't tell.”  

“Thank fuck.” You muttered and kissed him again, your urgency nearly knocking him over. Balancing your weight over him, Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth. You wanted to take his shirt off too but when you tried to reach for the hem, Seungcheol drew back, glancing at your hand. 

“What?” You raised your eyebrows, curious but not worried. You had finally learnt that Seungcheol really wanted you. Something else was bothering him.

He shook his head and before you could ask him again, he hooked his arm under your knees and with absolutely zero effort, lifted you, carrying you to the tent. Somehow, after all that happened between the two of you, it was only when he glanced at your face so lovingly that you felt shy, looking away with a smile. Laughing Seungcheol set you down on the sleeping bag before zipping up the entrance, the faint light of the campfire illuminating the inside. You pulled your legs together, hugging your knees and Seungcheol's expression turned amused. 

“Didn't take you to be a shy one.”

“I'm not.” You mumbled, “but I don't know. I suddenly feel like a teenager who's out with her boyfriend, about to do it for the first time.” 

Seungcheol crouched, his eyes at you level, suppressing a smile. “Boyfriend?”

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I'm just observing.” He laughed. “You like the forbidden.” 

“I don't mind the unconventional.” You corrected him. 

“Even if it means pretending like we don't want to have anything to do with each other when I like you so damn much?”

You nodded, trying not to blush. 

Seungcheol tugged your arms, pulling them away from you. “Even if we have to come to the middle of nowhere every time we want to have sex?” 

“Most definitely.” 

“And what if I never want to leave this place?” He leaned over, prompting you to lean away, your back hitting the ground as he hovered over you. “What if I want to be inside you and never leave?” 

“Works for me.” You grinned, pulling him down by his shirt, kissing him yet again. You couldn't remember the last time you enjoyed making out with someone this much. Maybe it was how soft his lips were, or how eager he was to kiss you back or just how much you craved this, the moment he broke away to kiss your neck, you whined at the loss. 

“I've been dying to get my hands on you like this.” He groaned, grabbing a tit with a hand and the other with his mouth, the swirl of his tongue making your back arch. Taking advantage of your raised hips, Seungcheol hooked his fingers along the waistband of your shorts, pulling it down along with your underwear. As he dragged it down your legs, he sat on his heels, looking at you like you were a miracle, causing you to blush all over again. Before you could ask to see him too he descended upon your chest again, trailing down this, mapping your skin with his lips as his fingers teased your folds. Of course you were drenched between your legs, your hands threading his thick tresses as he kissed you at the dip of your waistline, looking up to see you tense in anticipation. 

Fuck. 

He looked so hot like that, gauging your reactions, eager to please, asking inaudible if he could. When you gave him a soft nod, he wasted no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders, running his tongue deliberately slowly between your folds. The moan that left you was unholy to say the least, grip in his hair tightening as he didn't give you even a second to register it all, tongue slipping into your hole. Your thighs involuntarily squeezed together, trying to chase the feeling though your tried your best to not crush him between your legs, but Seungcheol seemed to be rather enjoying it all, sucking on your clit, coaxing it just the right way. In no time, he had a shiver run down your body, everything tightening in the pits of your being as you came on his tongue and he hummed against his skin, tasting you. 

“You taste fucking good.”

“You are fucking good.” You huffed, catching your breath, pulling your legs off his shoulders. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

Seungcheol shrugged, straightening himself. “Being the Son of Zeus is not all too bad.” 

You rolled your eyes as he undid his pants and leaned down to kiss you, caging you between his arms. His erection pressed against you, causing you to grind your hips, pulling a groan out of him. 

“Take your shirt off.” You whispered as he met your hips with his, not reacting. “Let me see you Cheol.” 

And when he continued to kiss down your neck without listening, you knew something was wrong. 

“Cheol….” Hands on his chest, you pushed him back, putting some distance between the two of you so you could see his face when he winced, like it hurt. 

Swearing under your breath, you apologised, sitting up as he did, face contorted in pain. Your hands moved to undo his buttons, when he shook his head, putting his hand in between. 

“Cheol let me see.” And when he seemed stubborn as ever, you added. “Are you still going to keep hiding things from me?” 

Those words make him lower his guard, allowing you to quickly work his buttons, eyes falling in the centre of his chest. There was a large wound right in the middle, the lesion scabbed, bleeding at places, looking red and devastatingly painful. It was the mark of your fire. 

“It’s my fault.” You whispered, terrified to run your fingers all over it. “It's all my fault-”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to…” Seungcheol sighed. “It’s not your fault Y/n, we both were foolish to not wear gear when we ventured off.”

He still thought you were blaming yourself for leading him to the Chimaera. He deserved to know that it was your fire that hurt him, he deserved the truth, just like he had given you. 

“Cheol I need to tell you something-”

“I know. I know the Chimaera was talking to you, that it told you something.” His expression wasn't as grim as you thought it would be. “But whatever it is, it can wait-”

“No it really can’t.”

“Haven’t you had enough of everything around us pulling us apart?” Seungcheol sighed. “There’s always something or the other trying to come between us when all we want is just to be with each other.”

“I know but-”

“Whatever it is can wait till we are done.” He looked at you expectantly. “Unless you insist I need to know right now.” 

You should have insisted. You should have told him the truth, but as much as it made you a hypocrite, your resolve faltered, and you shook your head. You were fully naked and halfway through things - it was already too late. If this was the last time you could have Seungcheol then you wanted to savor it. 

Relieved, Seungcheol stripped out of his shirt, trying his best to not show the pain in his face. “I’m fine, everything is fine.”

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, as his lips found yours, your bodies reaching for the ground again, Seungcheol holding his weight from crushing you. Giving his length a few pumps, you watched as he rubbed it against your folds, ignoring your pleas before he finally pushed it into your needy hole and your walls sucked him in immediately. 

“Fuck you’re tight.” He groaned, thrusting his hips slowly. A part of you wanted him to gently make love to you like this, but another just wanted to bring that animal out of him again, the one that railed you into oblivion on the hood of his car. All parts of you though, only wanted one thing. 

“Don’t….” And from your expression, Seungcheol knew what you were asking for. You didn’t want to cum fast or cum over and over again. You just wanted him. “Please, just let me feel you.” 

And he did. Bending your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and you immediately followed suit with the other one, locking your ankles behind him. He moved his hips, thrusting to a rhythm of his own - sometimes it was fast, hips snapping away as his eyes were fixed on your face twisted in pleasure. Sometimes it was slow and deep, kissing you on one hand, hitting all the right spots on the other. Either way, you came around him twice, your arousal leaking out, hole sore but you didn’t ask him to stop and neither did he offer to, like he was intoxicated by being inside you. It wasn’t until he frantically asked where you wanted him to come and you tightened your legs around him that he finally stopped, coming inside you, ropes of white coating your walls and filling you up. As he came down from his high, he rolled off you, lying on his back, his chest heaving, catching its lost breath. You snuggled into his arms, careful not to touch his wounds, realising it was finally time to tell him the truth. 

But you couldn’t. Not when he wrapped his arms around you, dropping a soft kiss on your forehead, muttering something you didn’t quite hear. 

Seungcheol’s truth had fixed what was broken, but your truth would only break the two of you again….

Maybe the truth could wait. 

Maybe some things really were better left unsaid. 

By the time the two of you returned to camp, the sun began setting behind the horizon. 

After the two of you cleaned up, packed the tent and other camping essentials, Seungcheol pulled you into his lap again, tangling his hands in your hair, kissing you. All sense of time lost, the two of you simply made out lazily, kisses interjected by laughter, laughter interjected by more kissing. Although you didn't want to part, he pressed his forehead against yours, sadly whispering, “We should go.” 

Throughout the two hour drive, neither of you spoke. You could tell he was itching to hold your hand and you longed to lean on him too but you were not in Nyx's domain anymore, you were under Zeus's skies. If two hours of distance was so difficult you wondered how the two of you would navigate the upcoming days, until Zeus decided to impart his Mark on him. But you'd do it. For him, for what was between the two of you, you'd do it. 

But the moment Seungcheol’s car entered the camp, you felt your guts twist. You couldn't place your finger on it all that well but something was very similar to the last time the two of you returned from the Forest of Nyx - all the members rushed towards the car immediately, faces looking both worried and confused. 

Seokmin rushed up to Seungcheol whispering something in his ear, the latter glancing at you concerned before asking you to follow him. Immediately, all of you headed towards the temple, murmuring amongst each other, finding Jihoon standing before the altar, two indistinguishable objects in his hand. 

“I didn't approach the Oracle.” Seungcheol frowned at Jihoon, puzzled. “How did these arrive….” 

“Well,” The Son of Apollo raised the contents in his hand. “They arrived nevertheless, one for you and one for her.”

Everyone turned to you. 

“For me?” You pointed at yourself. “What came for me?”

“Scroll of Sacrifice.” He held out a rolled piece of paper to you. “A deal, for one meeting with Goddess Hestia.” 

Stunned, you blinked at him.  

“And for you,” He turned to his chief. “A deal to receive the Mark of Zeus.”

Seungcheol and you turned to each other surprised - What was going on?

Stretching your hands out unsure, both of you reached for your respective scrolls, the paper immediately unravelling at your touch.

Written right in the middle of your paper, scribbled away in black ink was just one word, a name, one that felt like a knife was plunged into your heart - Seungcheol. 

Beside you, Seungcheol had dawned an equally painful expression on his face and over on his paper was a name too. 

Yours. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Paris” by @amourcheol [absolute legend!!]

Fem!reader || old hollywood au, exes to lovers, angst, fluff, smut || W.C: 50k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris. 

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“LMLY” by @sleepyparalysisdmon

Fem!reader || wedding au, best friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut || W.C: 45k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Choi Y/N hasn’t seen her long lost best friend Yoon Jeonghan in four years and doesn’t even recognize him at first when paramedics roll him into the OR after a motorcycle accident during her shift. She kind of expects to go back to being total strangers as soon as he’s discharged, but Seungcheol has other plans in mind for them when he asks them to be Best Man and Maid of Honor for his wedding. 

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“I Think We Married in Vegas” by @sungjinhos

Friends to lovers, comedy, angst, smut || W.C: 28.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

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“Love Café” by @chocosvt

Fem!reader || romance, angst, fluff, smut || W.C: 17.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 

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“Hate is a Strong Word” by @veethefreeelf

Fem!reader || coworkers au, enemies to fuck buddies, smut || W.C: 15k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You were living out your dream working in an ideal company with great colleagues and friends, except one. Yoon Jeonghan has been your nemesis from the moment the both of you stepped into this company. Sometimes you wonder if you’re living your dream or stuck in a nightmare.

⤷“Love is a Strong Word” (Part 2 of Hate is a strong word)

Fem!reader || coworkers to lovers, angst, smut || W.C: 15k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･It’s been a year since you moved away to a new branch. If you’re being honest, things haven’t been great. Being away from all you know and all you wanted has made you realize a lot of things and made you wish you had done things differently. Maybe moving back would be better for you. 

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“How Many Times Does it Take to Get Smarter?” by @veethefreeelf

Fem!reader || Best friends to fwb, smut || Parts: 2 || Total W.C: 20.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jeonghan and you start a fwb relationship after years of being best friends. He only has two rules: no feelings and no kissing. Who’s going to break the rules first?

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“Water” by @onlymingyus

Fem!reader || smut, angst, romance, angst, comedy || W.C: 19k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret…that’s something completely different.

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“To You” by @simpxxstan

Fem!reader || friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut || W.C: 16.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･jeonghan loves to play cupid. he's thoroughly successful at it as well. you know it's just his incredible luck, and you can't wait for him to trip and fall. even if you'll be the first one to stop him from falling.

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“(Tryna Do) What Lovers Do” by @vitaminkyeom

Fem!reader || college au, fake dating, friends to lovers, humour, fluff || W.C: 15k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When you had roped Jeonghan into your idea of being a ‘pretend’ couple, you did not expect the lie to grow this big. What was supposed to be a one day thing soon became a rather frequent occurrence. And the gravity of the situation did not really hit you until your parents were requesting an audience with your new ‘boyfriend’. Will the two of you be able to keep your act till then? Or, in which, you keep promising yourself that this would be the last day you pretend to have feelings for Yoon Jeonghan.

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“Holidate” by @onlymingyus

Afab!reader || fake boyfriend au, smut, angst, fluff || W.C: 13k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･It's only for a week, he's doing you a favor, and he's your fake boyfriend. Why do you have to keep reminding yourself of that?

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“Playboy” by @starlightxsvt

Fem!reader || sugar daddy au, strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, angst, some fluff || W.C: 18.8k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you try to steal from him. things take a turn when he catches you on the act. seemingly for the better at first but then for the worse when you catch feelings for him.

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“Every Summertime” by @lovelyhan

Afab!reader || 70s au, pining, smut, angst || W.C: 16.1k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you're not really interested in the record shop downtown. but people aren't oblivious to the way you keep trying to get into the owner's pants—not even the owner himself.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Bound to You” by @onlymingyus

Fem!reader || supernatural au, soulmate au, smut, angst || W.C: 12.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･There is a little magic in everyone but there is something about you that makes Jeonghan curious about more than just your name.

~❁story navigation❁~

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☆ 00 - teaser ♪

tags / warnings: none for this one, just jeonghan being bossy and wonwoo being a bully hehe beware, the teaser looks more like a summary of the overall story 😪

wc: 734

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☆ 01 - schedule ♪

tags / warnings: strong language (profanity), petty arguments, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor. (thats about it in this chapt)

wc: 4600

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☆ 02 - quit ♪

tags / warnings: strong language (profanity), petty arguments, mention of alcohol consumption, reader getting drunk, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor.

wc: 6895 (i will do better than that)

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☆ 03 - no feelings involved ♪

tags / warnings: smut, strong language (profanity), explicit language, petty arguments, mention of alcohol consumption, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor, suggestive content, enemies-to-lovers dynamic, jealousy, mature themes (alcohol, party scenes), angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy.

smut warnings: masturbation (both f and m), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (fictional context, not ideal IRL), rough sex, degradation (really slight. f being called "slut" once), overstimulation, tension-filled build-up, power dynamics (m dom)

wc: 11,087

♪ playlist ♪ : one of the girls (the weekend, lily rose depp, jennie), love me harder (ariana grande, the weekend), toxic (britney spears), kiss it better (rihanna), don't blame me (taylor swift).

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☆ 04 | your lips, my lips, apocalypse ♪

tags / warnings: smut, explicit language, petty arguments, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor, enemies-to-lovers dynamic, mature themes, light suggestive content, jealousy/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, mild profanity, oblivious reader (she needs proof over everything and anything), competitive tension, angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy. proceed with caution if any of these are sensitive topics for you! angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy.

smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex (fictional context, not ideal IRL), rough sex (jeonghan pounding into you real hard), lots of kissing, degradation (light. reader is a slut. period.), overstimulation, desperate kisses, tension-filled build-up, power dynamics (m dom), creampie (bashful of that word), reader is getting bullied by her co-workers ! oh and lots of kissing. (i honestly dk what to even add in here, lmk if i missed smth !)

wc: 12,180

♪ playlist ♪ : boyfriend (ariana grande with social house), never be the same (camilla cabello), teeth (5 seconds of summer), treat you better (shawn mendes).

"you aint my boyfriend, and i aint your girlfriend, but you dont want me to see nobody else"-reader "i lose my mind when it comes to you"-wonwoo "i cant have what i want and neither can you"-jeonghan

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☆ 05 | double trouble-maker ♪

tags / warnings: mentions of parental loss and illness (reader’s backstory), light emotional angst and introspection, subtle romantic tension (love triangle elements), intimate moment (making out in a car), light teasing and subtle jealousy.

wc: 10,347

♪ playlist ♪: my love (lee hi), arcade (duncan laurence), almost is never enough (ariana grande)

a/n: nothing to say. if the plot isnt plotting, then feel free to leave. no smut this chap sorry. i want to focus on their emotional conflict. enjoy tho ! help. im flopping real bad

a/n: UPDATING DAILY (not really, scheduled reblogs or posts, yes). since our timezones might never click, i decided to update every day. (been working on this for like, months (but i stopped here lmao), so all i gotta do is edit, proofread it then add to drafts - (jk, im actually stuck on ch 3 and yeah, that's pretty much ti). since i have other pending fanfic reqs, i might be uploading every other day. starting on 03, wc will be 10k+ just wait for it or if you want to be added to the overall taglist, reblog or comment to this post (maybe you havent yet?) if you want to stay updated ! anyways. thankyou for those who are supporting me all the way through this fanfic ! love y'all so much mwaaa <3

~~~i upload either 9 - 10 am or 2-3:30 pm sharp :))

taglist: @asyre @choppedballoondetective @kpoppiesofinternet @syluslittlecrow @minhui896

@october-saturn @kpop-will-kill-me (thankyou for reblogging !) if you want to be added, reblog or comment to this post :>

› warnings: hurt/comfort! major character death scene (it's not described in great detail), resurrection, grief, injury, blood, alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sex dreams, unprotected p in v, creampie and pull-out method, corruption kink, exhibitionism, love making, jeonghan is down bad, breeding kink, oral sex, pussy drunk jeonghan, buff jeonghan. pet names: baby (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

hell bent

JEONGHAN SAT ON THE GROUND FOR WHAT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY. He stared at the horizon until the darkness dissolved and the sun rose. The weight in his arms increased as the seconds went by until he grew numb and cold in the morning mist.

He blinked when the sunlight started to hurt his eyes. His throat was sore and dry from screaming, and his fists were bloody. But that did not matter. All that mattered was gone. He looked down where you lay motionless in his arms. Cold and bloody.

Hours had dragged on, and the time to move was drawing near. But he feared that if he moved, reality would set in. He cupped your cheek, kissing your forehead before pressing his own on yours, and waited. He waited for you to open your eyes, to feel your take in a breath.

It was over.

He got up, carrying your limp body in his arms. Once on his feet, the weight of your body caused a deep blow to his chest.

You laid on the backseat of his car as he drove aimlessly until he found a place deserted enough to hide. A place to bury your body.

The hole he dug in the ground was surrounded by trees, small patches of grass that grew small flowers attracting butterflies in, and in the distance, he could hear the chirping of birds. You looked peacefully asleep once he laid you there.

It was over. The torture was over. The pain, the suffering, all of that. And for a small moment, he thought you were smiling.

When Jeonghan stumbled upon the headquarters, he did not even bother knocking, because they saw his car parked on the driveway of the old manor.

Seungcheol opened the door, a bewildered look on his face, mouth parted, brows drawn inward. “What happened to you?” he asked, stepping aside to let Jeonghan in.

Jeonghan hugged his arm to his body. “Is Joshua here?” he asked instead, hurrying to the hospital wing of the manor.

“What’s happening?” Joshua raised his head, standing up from the desk pushed to the far end of the long room. His gaze fell on Jeonghan and got to work in an instant. “Sit,” he motioned to one of the beds.

Jeonghan obliged, letting out a pained groan as he sat down. “I need a favor,” he forced out, sitting still as Joshua grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting through Jeonghan’s zipper hoodie to reveal the deep cut from the shoulder to the elbow.

“Tell me what happened to you,” Joshua asked softly, it sounded like a routine question. But Jeonghan knew it was genuine curiosity. Joshua sat down on a stool beside the bed, examining all the damage done.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan muttered. “I need you to do something for me.”

Seungcheol stood before the bed, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”

Jeonghan took in a breath, mustering the courage to speak as pain throbbed inside him. “In the outskirts of Veridian Bay, some three kilometres south, are three dead hunters.”

“Shit,” he hissed. “Demons? Were you with them?”

Jeonghan shook his head, swallowing hard. “I killed them.”

Both Joshua and Seungcheol stopped dead in their tracks. Hunter deaths were common, and they were just reported, families were contacted in some cases. But most of the time, they went unnoticed. But hunters killing other hunters was something out of the ordinary.

“Jeonghan, what happened?” Joshua asked slowly and with a tone laced with concern.

Jeonghan shuddered, shaking his head again. “I can’t,” he choked out. “I just need that taken care of. I couldn’t go back to get them.”

Seungcheol ran a palm on his face, and Jeonghan knew he would not let this go easily. But he just nodded and turned around to strut out of the hospital wing. “Consider it done.”

Jeonghan and Joshua waited quietly, sitting very still until the loud noise of the front door slamming shut announced that they were alone. In the distance, the roar of Seungcheol’s bike echoed throughout the clear of the vicinity, growing more and more distant as he drove away.

Joshua continued working, cleaning the wound on Jeonghan’s arm, sending glances to his face to both measure how much painJeonghan was experiencing and to wait for him to talk.

“They killed her,” Jeonghan croaked, closing his eyes as a painful shudder swarmed inside him, threatening to break his mind.

“The hunters?” Joshua murmured.

“They came for her, I couldn’t do anything. She was gone before I could get to her,” he whispered, his face contorting in pain from the first puncturing of the needle stitching his skin back together, and the image of you lying on the ground.

“It has been months since we last talked, Jeonghan,” Joshua mentioned, carefully closing one stitch. “What changed?”

Jeonghan shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Joshua replied, his gentle tone easing some of the anxiousness in Jeonghan’s mind.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, finding his best friend sitting beside him. “Do you know anything about bonds?” he asked, waiting until Joshua nodded reluctantly. “Pacts, deals, promises… everything we were taught in training, you know that they are binding contracts with demons.”

Joshua frowned. “Did you make a pact with her?” he asked knowingly.

“Much worse,” Jeonghan replied, adding an empty smile that felt crazy to him. “She was bound to me and I to her since we were born.”

Joshua blinked a couple of times, tilting his head to one side and lowering his medical tools just a little. His gaze glided over the features of Jeonghan’s weary and dirty face, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You know,” Jeonghan asserted once his best friend remained quiet. “Did you know about this?”

Joshua sent his gaze upward, outlining the corners of the room pensively. “I’m never on the field, not like you and Seungcheol. I stay here, I patch all of you up and in the meantime, I hear the stories you bring from out there.”

“Please get to the point,” Jeonghan gritted, bracing himself for more physical pain as Joshua resumed stitching his arm up.

“I’ve heard stories, yeah,” Joshua mumbled, carefully adding another stitch. “When you told me about her, I just wondered about it. But you never showed up again, so I couldn’t tell you anything.”

Jeonghan sighed in resignation. “She is my soulmate,” he said, the word coming out with enough weight to make his heart protest in pain.

“How do you feel?” Joshua pulled back to take a surveying look.

“I buried her… She’s gone,” Jeonghan mumbled dejectedly, his gaze falling out of focus, lost in the distance. “She’s gone.”

The small patches of flowers surrounding the place where you lay, would they grow over you? Do you like flowers?

“Sounds like you cared about her,” Joshua whispered, finishing up the last stitch.

“Everything happened so fast,” Jeonghan went on, swallowing his tears. “I couldn’t get to her in time. I felt her pain. I felt the last beating of her heart.”

Joshua stopped, the pause was minimal, but it meant something. “You felt it?”

Jeonghan nodded in sharp, but tiny motions. “They tried to cut her wings,” he whispered in a near-crazed look flashing his eyes. Jeonghan was lost in the memory, trying to retrace every move he made upon finding you, but he could not remember what he did to those hunters.

“Jeonghan, what do you mean you felt it?” Joshua pressed, his tone more urgent and Jeonghan could tell that his friend was worried about him.

“The bond. We can sense each other through it,” he said, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

“But not anymore?” Joshua prodded, his tone gentle and cautious, fearing that his friend might be losing touch with reality.

“Not anymore,” Jeonghan breathed in, his chest stammering as he suppressed a sob, tears welling up in his eyes.

“And the bond?” Joshua lifted his gaze from the work he was doing, his tone rose in worry.

“It’s still there,” Jeonghan sniffled, crestfallen as tears rolled down his cheeks. “It’s still calling me to her, there’s just no receiving end.”

Joshua left his tools on the cart beside him, discarding the rags filthy with blood. He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders going slack. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he muttered, gently patting Jeonghan’s back, then bringing his hand to the back of his head, caressing as if to soothe him.

But there was nothing that could ever soothe Jeonghan’s pain. The emptiness inside him seemed to ache at its edges, his mind felt shaken with the reality he was thrust into. It seemed insane that it had been hours since he kissed you, eager with the prospect of starting fresh with you.

And now you were gone.

There was no point in cursing at life’s way to mock him anymore. Jeonghan thought this was the way he was paying for all the times he neglected you, all the times he hurt you. But the selfish part in him wished that life had given him the opportunity to say goodbye to you.

Jeonghan’s heart broke the night he lost you.

Despite everything that happened, he tried to move on. He convinced himself that life still went on and that you would have wanted him to move forward.

He kept your memory alive through small things. Some mornings he would go to a diner and order pancakes with syrup and bacon. When he was alone in his room, he would pretend you were there with him. He would imagine hearing your laugh, the small sounds you made when you slept.

It was the first month since you were gone. Jeonghan never had the opportunity to know what your favorite flowers were if you even liked receiving flowers. So he routinely left a different bouquet of flowers on the grave he made for you. He left lilies, the first time he went to visit you, one hand holding the bouquet, the other holding a bottle of rum.

He sat on the ground, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. The clear was quiet and dense with humidity, his senses stimulated by the smell of wet grass and dirt.

There was a peace that filled the emptiness inside him as he sat beside your grave. As though the bond could rest easy once he was there, even though there was no response from you.

Jeonghan grabbed the bottle with one hand around its neck and tipped a generous amount of rum in his mouth. Exhaling harshly, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “At least we have our answer, eh?” Jeonghan muttered glumly.

The next time he went there, some three weeks later, he brought you petunias. He thought that they would look good along with the wild chamomiles that were growing around you. This time he realized that he did not bring a bottle with him, and he did not need it. He just sat there, content with the peace that being near you brought him.

The third month you laid there, he brought you peonies. This time, he bought them with the memory of your glinting eyes the last and only time he saw you with joy and love glowing all around you.

He stood before the grave with his hands inside his pockets, looking at the ground adorned with flowers. “I don’t even know if you liked flowers,” he said, an empty smile curving his lips. “But I don’t know what else people leave on graves.”

With a tired sigh, he sat down on the ground, tucking his legs in a butterfly position. His fingers toyed with the grass growing in patches beneath him. The stillness of the clearing offered him the moment for reflection; he ventured again with questions about you. He never wondered about what the afterlife would look like, but sometimes he liked to think that there was some preternatural way you could listen to him.

“Shua saw me with flowers this morning,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “He said nothing, just told me to come back before sundown. I think he’s known for a while that I come here to visit you.” He raised his gaze, finding the sunlight filtering through the thicket of the trees, bathing him. “He’s a good friend, I think you would like him.”

Jeonghan lowered his gaze to the flowers sitting on the ground. He propped one elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his fist. “I almost didn’t come here this time,” he muttered guiltily, filling his chest with air to try to push the ache inside him.

It was as though the mere thought of not coming here to visit you made the bond protest. When you were alive, it was the mad craving for you that did not allow him to stay away for long. Now, it was just a thing that pulsated inside him, calling for you.

He breathed in, filling his lungs with the humid air of the quiet forest, trying to gulp down the knot coiling around his throat. “I miss you,” he whispered to the ground, his eyes brimming with hot tears. “I wish I could go back and do things differently with you… I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.”

He stood up, dusting the dirt from his hands while contemplating whether he wanted to say goodbye to you or not. Instead, he turned and walked away from the clear, enjoying the chirping of the birds keeping you company as he returned home.

Jeonghan returned to the manor, where he had been living since that night. The smell of food distracted him before he went to his designated room, so he just walked to the kitchen, finding Joshua busy preparing dinner.

“You’re back,” Joshua muttered gently, but the look he sent was weary. “I thought you’d be gone for longer.”

“There was not much to do,” he muttered offhandedly.

Joshua set a plate on the small dining table motioning to Jeonghan to the chair. “That’s for you,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan replied, sitting down with a tired groan. He kept an eye on his friend, pacing around the kitchen of the old manor. “What’s up with you?”

“Just thinking,” Joshua muttered, serving a plate for himself, and sat down in front of Jeonghan, occupying a space on the table too. “Ever tried summoning her?”

Jeonghan’s eyes went wide, his heart stammering for a split second. “What?” he choked out.

Joshua took the fork into his mouth and nodded, munching his food with ease, as though he was having the most normal conversation on the planet. “Have you ever tried summoning her?” he repeated slowly.

“No,” he replied, his tone coming out like a question.

“Mmm, I see,” he said, taking his cup to drink with long and generous gulps.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, but his friend kept drinking.

Joshua shrugged. “I just thought that you might’ve tried it at least once.”

“Why would I do that?” Jeonghan frowned, the ache palpitating strongly in his chest. “She’s gone.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that,” Joshua replied, lowering his gaze in shame.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning your cheek against the side of his head. The sighs slowly turned into moans, spilling out of your lips relentlessly as you rolled your hips on him, fucking him slowly. “Jeonghan,” your voice called.

“I know, baby,” he replied, enjoying the feeling he got whenever he was with you, it was bright and alive and dancing on his skin. “I feel it too,” he whispered.

You moved your hands to cup his face, pressing a hard kiss on his lips as you started moving your hips on him faster. “I love you,” you breathed.

Jeonghan moaned, wrapping you with his arms to flip the positions on the bed, pressing your body against the mattress. “I love you,” he replied, a shudder overpowering him, making him utter your name, over and over as he made love to you.

He pressed his body against the hard mattress, calling your name again as he woke up violently with an exasperated sigh. Rubbing his hands against his face, he shook himself from the merciless dream he had of you. “Gods,” he choked out, covering his face in shame, breathing hard against his hands. “Fuck, fuck!”

The hole in his chest pulsated painfully, desperately calling out to you to no end. As he closed his eyes, gathering himself, he saw you in the eye of his mind. Your sweet smile, every curve of your body.

It seemed a true tragedy that he could feel you in his dreams only. He felt your skin, he felt the bond responding to you the way it used to when you were alive. It was the first time he dreamed of you since you left, and he suspected it would not be the last.

This was his burden to bear. And he would have to endure it.

When Jeonghan first met you, he could not make sense of the pull he felt. His surroundings warped and everything focused on you, on your face, your eyes, even your smell. Jeonghan did not feel the very particular repulsion he always felt whenever he came in close contact with a demon.

But he wished to. He tried to force himself to recoil at the thought of you, after he met you. But everything inside him made him want to walk right back to that pub where you used to work. In the back of his mind, he saw the doors to the pub, the bar, he wanted to go there one more time and see you.

It felt wrong. It felt so dirty and sticky to even think about you without recoiling. But Jeonghan was strong-willed, and very diligent on his job, so he just kept himself to his business. Tracking and getting rid of demons. But somehow, he could not get near you again, even if everything in his life obligated him to track you, hunt you.

Time went on like this, his mind plagued with the morbid curiosity to go back to that pub and see you again. In his dreams, he saw your eyes, he heard your voice make out the same exact words you told him the night he met you. He heard your voice utter your name, the sound echoing in the back of his mind as he tried to continue with his life.

Until one night, when something unfortunate happened.

It was one of those sleepless nights, Jeonghan decided to go on a night watch out of town. He was tracking some demon activity he was informed of nights ago. This demon apparently had a pattern which was not a rarity, demons could tend to go for certain humans at a certain time, it was not weird.

But apparently, this demon liked to hunt a particular kind of human; humans that were either wanted criminals or suspects of a crime, people that liked transgressing against their own in the worst ways imaginable. And that was something worth noting to Jeonghan, it made this demon easy to catch.

Or at least, that is what he had thought.

Night after night, Jeonghan had no luck falling asleep and when he went out to track this demon, he had no luck focusing on the task at hand. He was on the verge of calling it a night, wanting to fall asleep in his car, or in the nearest motel he could find. Walking aimlessly on the side of the road, he realized that it would take him about twenty minutes to get to where he parked his car and sighed.

A small shiver ran down his spine as if the line of his back was being stroked with the tip of a paintbrush. His eyelids fluttered in response, and his chest felt strange, like overcome by a fuzzy sensation.

He needed to be alert, he thought. A demon was around, and he could sense it. Stopping his lazy gait, he sent his gaze to scope his surroundings, through the thicket of trees flanking the lonely road.

But as the feeling inside him returned, and more intensely, he realized that he was in danger. A rustle of leaves echoed at the other side of the road where he stood, and slowly, a figure emerged from the trees, it moved gracefully and gently. A pair of dark horns distorted the shadow.

As he reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, he realized that he only felt endangered because it was you who moved through the shadows of the forest. And he wanted to avoid you above all.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” your voice reached him like a gentle caress on his mind.

“What are you doing here?” Jeonghan said, not removing his fist from the handle of his knife. “Are you following me?”

You tilted your head to one side, a smirk spreading on your lips. “Why, are you afraid of me?” you mused, laughing lightly. But when he did not reply to your quip, you just shrugged. “I came out because I was craving a snack. But I think you might suffice.”

His fist tightened around the handle, his eyes quickly reading your stance, but you remained leaning on your side to the trunk of the tree.

“Relax, hunter,” you said, tossing your hair from your shoulder to your back and crossing your arms. “Have a little laugh, you look tense.”

Jeonghan stood his ground, lifting his chin to analyze you a bit further. “Did you kill any humans tonight?”

“No, not yet,” you picked your nails, trying to appear as uninterested in his questioning as possible, but your heart was running a mile per second. Being around Jeonghan was thrilling, it made you feel full in your chest and every nerve beneath your skin to call for him.

“But you will,” he said, realizing that it was you, the demon he was looking for. The demon that only fed on men that hurt women and children.

“Well, a girl’s gotta eat,” you sighed, pushing yourself off the tree and taking a step toward him.

He tensed up at that instant, one foot stepping back but then he decided to hold his ground, trying to resist walking away. You were dangerous, and he did not know what set you apart from other demons.

You ignored the fact that he still had a hand on his knife, and he was very much as lethal as you were. Taking some steps to where he stood still, you coiled one finger around a strand of hair, smiling when you realized that he was not afraid of you, but weary.

“You seem like you need a night off,” you pointed, coming closer to him to take a fuller look at his face, seeing the bags under his lifeless eyes, and the dry skin on his lips.

“Don’t come any closer,” Jeonghan warned, rigid with the question of why he could not make his muscles move in any direction.

“Or what?” you asked, standing in front of him. “Are you going to kill me, hunter?” you asked, your eyes glimmering in the dark, full of curiosity.

“If you take another step I might,” Jeonghan replied with certainty, something in him stirring with a strange fascination when you smiled at the clear warning.

“No, you won’t,” you countered, giving him one of those looks that made him feel more uneasy. “You’re not at full strength, you’re tired, and hungry. And worst of all, you feel like you can’t move, am I right?”

It was like you could read into his soul, he thought. Your words were like wildfire spreading inside him, it made his insides boil with rage. Part of him wondered why he was made this uncomfortable and angry at something one demon said. Demons spoke out of the need to lure hunters into a trap, and this was no different. But this trap seemed so tempting.

To drive your point further, you took another step, inches away from Jeonghan.

“I make you nervous,” you whispered, fascination glinting on your eyes as you wallowed. “What are you going to do, Jeonghan? You can’t run away, and you can’t attack me, so what’s your next move?”

His breathing shifted when his name fell from your lips. He had never felt this way, he realized. The quick pulse, the fluttering in his stomach, the shaky breathing, he knew how nervousness felt, but this was entirely new to him.

“Hm?” you pressed, tilting your head to one side as you nearly stood on your tiptoes to level with him. “Come on, no one’s going to judge you if you run away, and I won’t tell a soul,” you showed him a mischievous smile, one that he might have hated if it were not for the tight feeling invading him wholly.

As you stood before him, one thing became painfully clear to him: he was attracted to you. It was something simply physical, or that was what he tried to convince himself. Maybe it was your pretty face, your velvety tone, the grace in which you moved. Not only that, as he casted a look down to meet your face, he also had a glimpse of your frame and the thought of wanting to meet every curve of your body was alluring.

So alluring that he wanted to surrender to it.

At that, your eyes shone more intensely. Again, as though you had a secret line to his thoughts, and you just had discovered what he was thinking.

But you sighed with faux disappointment. “And here I thought you were fun,” you pouted in mockery. “Pity. I guess I’ll just go and have fun elsewhere,” you moved again, walking around his body once, as though taking another full look at him. “Bye, hunter.”

And then you sunk into the line of trees again, disappearing from his view. But his senses were already tuned and following you, so he could hear every step you took down the forest. And he could not help but take a step in your direction as well.

That night, he chased you down the forest, his heart beating in a frenzy, his mind blank but with only one intention. You started sprinting, laughing lightly when he kept with your pace and ran closely behind you.

When Jeonghan was finally within reach, he grabbed your arm, turning you around and messing up your step. You stumbled back against a tree, realizing that he had calculated this because his arms were caging you in on both of your sides.

Jeonghan brought a hand to your throat, his fingers pressing on your skin harshly, his strength subsiding once he felt your pulse. But his face, riddled with confusion and frustration at the same time, his mouth parted a little as he could not bring himself to say anything. His gaze swam over the features of your pretty face, stopping once on your eyes, your lips.

The moment was deadly quiet as you witnessed the fire inside him die down slowly once he came in contact with you, skin on skin. It was game over, you knew it, and Jeonghan did too. There was a quiet exchange of glances right before Jeonghan dipped his head and you closed your eyes, gulping on air as his lips met your own with a swift kiss.

What possessed him to do that, Jeonghan did not know, but he was not in the position to ask himself any more questions because he did it again. Kissing you now with abandon, his lips sinking in between yours, making out with you like he never had with anyone else. You moaned into the kiss, sending him into a frenzy.

It was as though you were both committing a crime, and none of you would say a word. You grabbed him by the flaps of the black leather jacket, pulling him impossibly closer to your body, the proximity making your chest feel fuller, your blood heating up.

He released his grip on your throat, his fingers sliding down your torso to undo the button of your blouse. The next moves were rushed, as though neither of you wanted to stop and question what you were about to do. And the forest around you stood silent too, being witness to the fateful deed.

In seconds, Jeonghan had you pressed against the trunk of the tree, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt hiked up your tummy, your chest naked and exposed to him. You sneaked a hand between your body and his, reaching for his hard cock to guide it to your entrance for him to sink inside you, making you feel every inch of his dick in one go.

The first stroke set your whole body aflame. Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out as Jeonghan wasted no time and started fucking you with hard thrusts, not giving you time to adjust to the stretch of his cock. The wind got knocked out of your lungs with sharp exhales, but you kept yourself angled for the merciless rutting, unable to look away from the fiery obsession growing inside him, showing on his face.

Neither of you said a thing, just kept looking at each other, unable to speak, or to look away. The feeling was exquisite, invading every inch of your body, tingling beneath your skin. Jeonghan’s eyes glazed over, his mouth parting slightly but he kept himself quiet, fucking you to get rid of the thing trying to rip his heart out.

And when you reached your orgasm, it was the best feeling you had ever experienced in your life. It had you finally moaning out his name, clenching around him as he too spilled himself inside you with hard thrusts.

That was the night that kickstarted the deep craving and obsession you had for each other, the push and pull that Jeonghan could not make sense of until the night you told him of the bond. That was the night that Jeonghan regretted for a long time until he lost you.

“Hey, are you there?”

Jeonghan lifted his head, snapping back to reality. He had been contemplating for hours, sitting in the kitchen with a mug of cold tea in his hands. His fingers had grown cold again. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Mingyu opened the fridge for the fifth time that day, just to close it again. “Wonwoo and I are going to a Halloween parade downtown, see if we catch something fun. Wanna come with us?”

Jeonghan did not know for how long he had been sitting there reminiscing about you. In his mind, Jeonghan could still feel your touch on his skin, so it was difficult for him to assimilate what he had just heard, so he nodded again, accepting the invitation. “Sure,” he croaked.

“‘Kay,” Mingyu smiled giddily with the triumph of getting Jeonghan out of the house. “See you in the garage in five minutes.”

The streets were full of nocturnal life. People came out with costumes of all kinds, some of them were recognizable to Jeonghan, and some were not. It was a small city where the headquarters were located, but Jeonghan was not surprised to see a lot of people gathering there for the Halloween parade.

Demons ran amok in places like this, they practically crawled into these types of events, and humans were easier prey in crowded places. It was also easier for demons to mask themselves.

“We should go, Mingyu,” Jeonghan said, moving through the crowd and using Mingyu as a shield.

“Maybe we could move to the sidelines,” Wonwoo suggested, walking behind Jeonghan. “It would be easier to stay alert like that, we don’t have to be in the thick of the crowd.”

“Have a little fun, you two,” Mingyu said. He was a person that could find the good side to nearly everything, even this damned job, Jeonghan thought.

“I’m going to take a breather,” Jeonghan said, trying to cut through the crowd.

“Gods, you are one ray of sunshine,” Mingyu tutted. “Come on, this way,” he motioned to one side of the multitude of people, where they could cross more efficiently.

Jeonghan followed, walking away from the sea of people, and starting to thread through it to get to the other side of the street when he felt it. It was a rush, tingling down from the back of his head to the rest of his spine. It left him speechless, breathless.

“Wait,” Jeonghan blurted, placing a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder.

“What is it?” he frowned, sending his gaze through the sea of faces. The muscles of his jaw twitched, and as he drew in a breath, he exhaled: “Demon.”

Jeonghan stood frozen, eyes fixated on the pavement. “No,” he uttered dejectedly, straightening up to catch his breath. Not just any demon. He searched through the mass of unknown eyes, the masks, the makeup, growing more and more desperate as the feeling returned caressing his back, making him shudder.

“Jeonghan, what is it?” Mingyu muttered beside him, squaring up his shoulders after noticing the shocked expression on your face.

Yoon Jeonghan would know your face anywhere. Not just that, but the way the very air seemed to change whenever you were near.

“Mingyu, stop,” he whispered, digging his fingers on the muscle to bring him to a halt.

Mingyu dropped his jaw slightly, ignoring Jeonghan’s direct order and made a motion to step into the crowd again, a hand reaching for the knife on his back.

“I said stop,” Jeonghan ordered at once, his tone firm and snappy.

You moved through the sea of people, your eyes swimming all over the place in true amazement, your mouth parting as you looked at the costumes that the people around you wore.

Jeonghan shuddered, unable to blink in fear you were an illusion. But Mingyu saw you too, he saw your wings in full display, brushing against the humans around you, and he saw your black horns curving back from the crown of your head.

You laughed when a man dressed in a killer clown costume jumped on you, trying to get a scare out of you but failing miserably. The sound of your laughter made Jeonghan weak, it made him want to dissolve into the pavement below his feet.

“What the fuck?” Mingyu whispered, looking at you and then back at Jeonghan. “She’s a demon, what are we waiting for?”

“She’s mine,” Jeonghan snapped but did not look away from you. He simply removed his hand from Mingyu’s shoulder and started to walk slowly towards you as you moved through the myriads of costumes, wide-eyed in amazement.

As he came closer, reality seemed more and more like a joke to him. He tried to convince himself that perhaps he was dreaming again. But there was no denying the bond pulsating stronger as he approached you.

“Nice wings,” a guy said in passing, catching your attention but only for a fleeting moment.

You made no reply, only continued looking at your surroundings, the lights mirroring your dark eyes, full of hunger, full of life. Dark eyes that glided all over Jeonghan’s frame as he stood in front of you, perplexed to the point he forgot speech, he forgot how to use his mouth.

“What are you supposed to be?” you asked, tilting your head to one side.

Jeonghan did not know what to reply, as he was unsure that you even knew that you spent the last three months three feet below ground. You looked as alive as the day he told you he loved you.

You died, I buried you. Jeonghan’s mind reeled over and over. Your heart stopped beating, I buried you.

“I’m… I…” Jeonghan whispered, not by choice, but by the inability to raise his voice higher.

Your eyes went over the features of his face, and he expected eagerly to see a glint of recognition in them, but you beat him to it. “Do I know you?” you asked, your voice soft and gentle with him, but you did not know that your question might have been like a dagger to his heart.

His heart caved in, and he took the pain as he had been taking it for the last three months that you were gone. “I don’t think so, no,” he finally said, his pulse quickening upon realizing that the sound of his voice made your pupils dilate.

His voice. A very distant memory, like trying to recall a lost dream upon waking up from a long nap. You studied him with your gaze one more time, trying to figure out why his face meant something to you.

Jeonghan saw his two companions through the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, knowing the reason why you also looked so wide-eyed. “Are you hungry?” he asked, and seeing your brow furrowing, he quickly added with a thumb pointing back. “There’s a diner down the street, far away from all this noise.”

And far away from any potential casualties.

“I suppose I don’t get a name,” you quipped, and shivers ran down his spine.

So he tried to figure out if that brought back any memories when he said: “Only if I get yours first.”

Your gaze went soft, your breathing quickening slightly but only for him to notice it. You did not know your name, and the realization shook you so hard that it made you dizzy. “Yeah, I think I’ll go with you. If you’re buying.”

At that, Jeonghan mustered up a light smile, seeing that although your memories were gone, you were still you. “Yeah, I’m buying.”

He cast a look back only to make sure that Mingyu had understood why Jeonghan had ordered him to stop. And there was a knowing look mirroring back in Mingyu’s eyes, as he needed no explanation. Jeonghan nodded to him and then motioned you to follow down the street where the diner was located.

As you walked in front of him, he got a view of your entire frame. The t-shirt you had worn the day that you died was torn on the back midway through, for when those hunters tried to cut your wings. The rest of your clothes were dirty too, black with traces of blood and dirt, adding to the illusion of a Halloween costume.

“This place is good. I’ve been here many times before,” Jeonghan lied, keeping an eye on you to see if you were keen on catching his lies. “The pancakes and syrup are delicious.”

“Pancakes and syrup?” your eyes flitted to his face and back to the diner as Jeonghan pushed the door open, holding it for you.

Jeonghan nodded in short motions, his heart deflating a little when he saw no evidence that you had caught his lie. “You’ll love it.”

“Mmn,” you hummed confusedly, following him like a puppy that has just found a knowing elder. “I believe you.”

Jeonghan motioned to a seat of one of the booths and you slid obediently, crossing your arms on the table. He flagged down one of the servers and ordered for you only, glancing your way back and forth, tearing his gaze away only when you noticed his eyes on you.

“Eh,” you began, scratching an invisible itch on the back of your hand when the server kept looking at you weirdly until she walked away.

“It’s your wings,” Jeonghan pointed at your large, membranous black wings with the tip of his nose. “They look too real for a Halloween costume.”

You pouted, giving one of your wings a look. “They are real,” you muttered, seemingly offended.

Jeonghan sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from you. I’m glad they are, I’m glad you are real, he wanted to say but the words never came. “Yeah, I know.”

“These are too,” you pointed to the black horns curving back from the crown of your head.

“I know,” Jeonghan muttered, leaning over with a curiosity that he could no longer try to shake off. “Can you try to hide them?” he asked.

Your eyes were windows to your mind because they widened in shock for an instant. “Is that possible?”

Jeonghan realized that he never asked you how you did it, so he nodded and thought of a reply quickly. “Imagine them gone.”

Instinctively, your eyes swam upwards, focusing for half a thought and then your horns dissipated from his vision. “Oh,” you muttered, smiling in small triumph. “Did I do it?”

He smiled with you, unbeknownst that he had not done that in months. “You did it,” he said, his chest finally feeling whole and warm. “Can you try with your wings now?”

“Mmmn,” you frowned, breathing in and then they were gone too. “Oh, that feels weird,” you muttered with a small giggle that sent chills down his spine.

“Two coffees and pancakes with syrup for the young lady,” the server chirped, aloof that you had gotten rid of your horns and wings completely, serving the order and then walking away.

“Thanks,” he muttered, expecting for your first bite.

You were aloof to his scrutiny, sinking your fork into your food and taking one bite. You had the reaction that Jeonghan had secretly been waiting for, your eyes widened, glinting as you released a pleased moan. “Wow,” you muttered, wasting no time and taking another bite.

“Is it good?” Jeonghan whispered, keeping his eyes on you as you ate eagerly.

“So good,” you mumbled, your cheeks stuffed with your favorite dish. “I like this.”

“I’m glad,” Jeonghan replied meaningfully, trying for a second time to see if that brought any memories back. After seeing your reaction, he had no doubt in mind that somehow you were miraculously brought back to him instead, he was full of questions now, and he knew it would not be a straight answer to every single one of them.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you raised your eyebrows just as you were about to take another bite from your food. When he remained motionless, you added: “We’re strangers, I know, but I know that look.”

“Eh?” he frowned.

“You know, when someone wants to say something but doesn’t have the guts to,” you shrugged. “I don’t know much about things, but I can be a really good listener, and…” you sneaked a glance at his face and back to your plate. “You seem familiar.”

Jeonghan saw some glimpse of hope, but he remained careful. Nothing could be this good in his life and you coming back to it had to be another joke somehow. “Where do you come from?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, dubious of how to reply but you just went with what you could make out from experience. “I actually don’t know,” you said with an awkward air. “I dug myself out of a hole in the ground.”

Jeonghan showed you a sad smile. “That seems like a weird experience,” he commented just to keep you talking.

And it worked. “Yeah, I guess nobody thought of double-checking to see if I was really dead,” you smiled lightly but sent a quick glance to verify if Jeonghan would understand your dry humour.

“Or maybe you’re just a very deep sleeper.”

That made you laugh, the sound bubbly and airy. It surprised you for a second, but Jeonghan caught that look on your face despite him being overridden with a deep sense of joy when he heard the sound coming out of your mouth.

Jeonghan tried to keep his facial expressions in check, but he was so mesmerized that it showed in his glinting eyes.

“What about you, stranger?” you asked, pushing the empty plate aside and propped one elbow on the table, resting your chin on your hand.

“What about me?” he asked uncomfortably, coughing to shake off the deep wonder he felt.

“Where do you come from?” you asked innocently, shifting slightly on your seat to mask that you were also uncomfortable by the sense of familiarity his face gave you.

“I come from a town very, very far away from here,” he responded.

“Are you not hungry? You didn’t eat,” you said, taking the cup of coffee to your lips to drink one large gulp, you recoiled immediately, putting the cup down and using that hand to cover your mouth.

“What?” Jeonghan asked, frowning upon knowing that reaction. It was a natural instinct to recoil from things that could burn, humans did it. But not demons. Demons could not get burned from a hot coffee, much less feel like recoiling instinctively.

“It’s hot,” you said, lifting your eyes to him in shame as your eyes watered slightly from the stinging pain.

“Did you get burned?” Jeonghan pressed in utter bewilderment.

“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when something is really, really hot!” your eyes widened.

Then you did something that only sent him further down his intrigue, reaching out to grab the sugar to add two spoons to your coffee. You did this naturally and without much thinking. It was as though your memories were lost, but things out of habit remained with you. He wondered then if that was how you had instinctively found him. He wondered how strongly you felt the bond.

“Well?” you asked, stirring your coffee with the spoon with gentleness. When he just raised his eyebrows, you added: “Aren’t you hungry?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “No, I’m not,” he replied, clasping his hands beneath his chin and propping his elbows on the table. “You?”

You nodded. “I’m full,” you replied contently.

Confusion gripped him again, making him furrow his brow. “You’re not hungry anymore?” he asked, knowing that you could take one full meal, and still be hungry for more. Because no meal could satiate your need to feed on souls.

But you nodded cutely. “Yep, full.”

Another glimpse of hope. Something Jeonghan desperately wanted to cling to. If you could burn yourself, and feel full after one meal… not only that, but you miraculously and quite literally crawled out of your grave.

“Do you remember what it felt like?” Jeonghan whispered, so quiet that for a second he feared you would not be capable of hearing him.

But you raised your eyes. “What?”

“When you woke up in that hole, do you remember what happened before that?”

You shook your head slowly. “Nope,” you pouted once more. “How do you know I don’t remember?” you inquired, tilting your head to one side.

“I uh,” Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, flagging the server to ask for the bill. “I guess you’re familiar too,” he said, showing you a tight smile.

“Mmph,” you looked at him for a long moment, thinking that his eyes, the glint in them made you think of a spark before a fire.

Jeonghan on the other side of the table, was beginning to mortify with the idea that your temporary death might have inched you closer to becoming human. The time you tried to become human was through soul starvation, something that was slowly killing you too. And he thought that maybe you were only able to come back because you remained part-demon. A half-mortal.

Jeonghan also suspected that it was him uttering your name in the middle of the night the detonator for your resurrection if he could even call it that. Summoning a demon was a whole ritual, but you were bound to him and him to you, so everything that he thought he knew about it was uncertain too.

“I guess I should thank you for the food,” you toyed with the edges of the table without looking at him. “But I also don’t know why you’re doing this for me.”

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, realizing that his throat had gone dry with his thinking, he felt breathless, and it was not only because it was hard for him to sit with the fact that you were back, but also because he now had to make a choice.

If he was right and you were half-human now, you were also unaware of the bond. Jeonghan was face to face with the opportunity to finally let you go, and set you free from this vicious cycle. You would not be subjected to a lifetime of misery with him, being chased for being who you are and being with a demon hunter like him.

But there was another problem: he made a promise to you.

“Are you okay?” you whispered.

“Yeah, yes I am,” he cleared his throat once again, he pulled out his wallet and left a bill on the table. “Listen, I’ll show you a place where you can stay for now, alright?”

Before you could answer, he stood up from the table and walked towards the door of the diner, making you follow him outside.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his large steps.

“A place where you could be taken in, a shelter,” he eyed you as you walked beside him.

“Will I see you again?” you looked panicked for a second, fear creeping inside you at the thought of him disappearing.

“No,” he replied shortly, lowering his gaze to the ground as he led you through an alleyway, knowing that the shelter would be just across from it.

Jeonghan could honor his promise to you. He would not walk away from you, he would not let you go. That would make the bond grow peaceful and content, and that would make his suffering end at once.

One undeniable truth was that if he could walk away from you, there would be no danger around you. Sure, you were still half-demon, so that would eventually put a target on your back. But he could keep an eye on you from afar, make sure you’re making the right choices for yourself, as you always have.

That way, maybe you could continue to have the life you always wanted. Maybe, in time, you would find someone who would give you what he never could, maybe that someone would be able to love you the way you deserve.

“Right,” Jeonghan breathed, trying to ease the pain in his chest. “I’ll be going now,” he muttered, slowly turning around and walking down the empty alleyway, every step becoming more and more torturous to him.

You watched him walk, the movement of his body growing weaker as the distance grew. “Hey,” you called, but he did not stop. “Stranger!” you began approaching him, but his steps took him farther from you. “Stop!”

Jeonghan did, breathing raggedly. Breaking a promise was hard, and the pain was nearly lethal. He vaguely remembered you saying something about breaking promises made to demons, but the pain numbed him to his last nerve ending.

You quickly made your way over to him, noticing that his body was shaking uncontrollably. “Hey,” you sighed, gathering yourself.

“What?” Jeonghan forced out, his voice quivering as he tried to stop the tremors. He was growing feverish, but as you closed the distance, he could regain some of his composure.

“I can’t let you go,” you frowned, unable to comprehend why you were so intrigued by him.

Jeonghan laughed dazedly, it was a mad laugh but not at you, but directed towards life and its crazy way to mock him. “You must,” he replied, the feeling coiling in his throat nearly strangled him. “Go to the shelter. They’ll take you in. You could start a life far away from this fucking mess.”

“Start a life?” you parroted again. “I don’t know my name, or who I am. Don’t go. Please?”

Jeonghan searched your eyes one more time. If he could not keep his promise, then at least he would give you back your name before walking away from you once and for all. “Your name…” he choked out your name, falling on his knees from the numbing pain he felt.

“That’s my name?” you whispered, trying to keep him on his feet, but he was growing heavy in your arms. “What’s yours?”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly, his eyes glazing over as he started to lose consciousness. “No,” whispered. “Go, forget me. Forget all this.”

“Please,” you insisted. Grabbing his face as he knelt in front of you, seeing his dark eyes, his soft lips. “I know you. I know I do,” you muttered, kneeling down so you could see him face to face.

He sighed, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it gently against his cheek, closing his eyes briefly. “My name is Yoon Jeonghan,” he muttered, bracing himself for the merciless thrill of the bond snapping in place one more time.

You sucked in a breath, your body tensing as the familiar feeling returned to your bones, coursing through your veins. “Jeonghan,” you breathed.

Jeonghan kept his eyes closed but shuddered as you uttered his name, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, afraid of opening his eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t walk away from you,” he slurred the words, feeling lightheaded as his forehead fell forward, bumping with yours. “I’m sorry…”

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands cradling his face shifted slightly in their place, feeling his skin.

He held his breath out of fear that you might reject the bond as he did to you many months ago. He wished to keep you there for a second longer, your forehead pressed to his, even if his lucidity waned, verging closer to passing out.

But then, you ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip softly, making him pull back slightly, opening his eyes to see your face. Something had changed. In your eyes he found the familiarity in them, you knew him.

He whispered your name carefully, fearful. “Baby?” he breathed, right before his head lolled to one side, his body following it to the ground, where he lost consciousness.

Jeonghan woke up abruptly, disorientated. The ceiling was one he had never seen before and that induced him into a panic that pushed him to sit on the bed where he lay. Lightheaded, he understood after some seconds that he was in a motel room. And that he was completely alone.

Had he been dreaming all this time? He rose from the bed going around it to look for traces of you. But he found nothing. Breathing fitfully, he took his hands to his head, forcing himself to focus.

The door clicked softly and was pushed open cautiously. As you entered the room, you sneaked a look directly at the bed, expecting to find Jeonghan still in his sleep, your gaze swam across the room, falling upon Jeonghan, who stood frozen directly parallel to you.

“Ah, you’re awake,” you chirped, entering the room and closing the door behind you. You had half expected to find the room empty if Jeonghan had woken up alone while you went to grab something to eat.

Jeonghan remained rigid, looking at you as though afraid he might wake up from a dream again. His breathing was ragged, and his vision began to blur.

“I hope you don’t mind I took your wallet,” you said, leaving a paper bag on the chair as you removed the zipper hoodie from your shoulders. “And your hoodie.”

“Wh-what—how…” Jeonghan breathed, shaking with so many emotions at the same time it was hard to focus, it was hard for him to command the muscles of his mouth to demand the answers he needed to know.

You approached him carefully, rubbing your hands together as though anxious. “You passed out last night,” you explained, though that was obvious to him, he did not need you to say that. “And I took you here because I don’t know where you live. And I don’t have a home.”

Jeonghan took in a breath sharply, tears spilling from his eyes as he listened to your voice. He raised one hand slowly, carefully meeting your cheek to make sure you were not an illusion.

You began to worry, your eyebrows pinching together. “Was I gone too long?” you asked meaningfully, understanding that he was in shock.

Jeonghan nodded slowly, the pain in his heart pulsating when you grabbed his hand on your cheek, pressing it against your skin before you wrapped an arm around his torso, so he did the same, hugging you tightly to his body.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, trying to swallow your tears as he sobbed in your arms.

“I missed you,” he muttered, his body wrapping you completely, his face hiding on the curve of your neck, his arms grabbing you tightly to the point the air started to leave your lungs.

Your heart deflated upon hearing the raw sadness in his voice. “I know,” you whispered, feeling the bond deep inside you pulsating, feeling everything he felt during these months of your absence.

“I buried you,” he whispered, shaking uncontrollably, his fingers curled around your clothes, trying to hold onto you to never let you go again.

You caressed his back gently as he shook with sobs. “I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for the pain he endured while you were gone.

Jeonghan grabbed your face, still finding it hard to believe that you were there, and you were fine. “How?” he asked, his voice waning over the emotions coiling in his throat.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, circling his neck with your hands as he moved to press a long kiss on your forehead.

It did not matter, all the explanations in the world would fall short of explaining the relief Jeonghan felt. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” you said, knowing that there would be no resolution to this.

“It’s okay now,” he replied, pressing his forehead on yours.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered, pulling back to see his face before asking: “Tell me what happened, please.”

He went rigid with pain in an instant, but he nodded slowly, moving to sit down on the foot of the bed to avoid growing weak in his stance. You sat beside him, reaching for his hand as though you could not keep your hands to yourself.

“Do you remember the hunters?” he asked, waiting for your confirmation and he proceeded when you nodded silently. “And do you… remember what they did to you?”

Your gaze fell out of focus as you tried to conjure the memory of the moment before your death. The memories were fragments of pain and worry; you remembered some things, and those were enough. “Yes,” you said.

Jeonghan bristled in pain slightly, but continued despite it. “You were gone for three months,” he explained, the pain from your absence still felt recent, the wound still fresh. It was baffling to him that you were now here, as though nothing had happened.

“How am I back?” you asked slowly, furrowing your brow slightly. “What did you do, Jeonghan?”

He understood at once that you were worried about what he could have done for you to return scatheless, or so you thought.

“I…” he lowered his gaze, growing ashamed of himself. “I think I summoned you in my sleep.”

“Is that possible?” you asked. “I thought you needed to do a ritual to summon me.”

 “That’s the thing,” he raised his gaze again, shifting on the bed so he could face you better. “I don’t think that applies to people like us. I didn’t need to do a ritual, I just needed to call for you.”

“So you’re telling me that you did not say my name once for three months?”

Shame returned to his face, nodding silently without looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I just couldn’t—it hurt so much,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing a hand to cup his cheek, forcing his brown eyes to meet yours. “It’s okay,” you showed him a light smile. “You did what you had to do.”

His eyebrows pinched softly. “Can you forgive me?” he whispered.

You sat on your knees beside him, grabbing his face fully with your hands. “There is nothing to forgive, Jeonghan,” you said warmly, pushing his long bangs away from his face. “I’m fine, and I’m here thanks to you.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you down with him to the bed. “I can’t believe that you’re back,” he said with a tiny tone. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Meanwhile, you were still trying to digest the fact that he lived through three months of mourning and guilt, while you just closed your eyes and woke up in a clearing with flowers around you. Confused, but with one thought in mind: follow the thing that pulled you to him.

Jeonghan caressed the side of your face with the back of his fingers, looking at you longingly as the pain inside him deflated slowly. “You’re half human now,” he told you, remembering the look on your face the night before.

You nodded, enjoying the gentle shivers that his touch gave you. “It feels funny,” you giggled slightly. “I’m weaker now.”

Jeonghan mirrored your smile, his fingers trailing down to grab your chin. “I guess I should be careful with you now,” he whispered, meeting your lips with his own.

The kiss ignited every single inch of your skin, drawing out a small moan from you. And for Jeonghan, it felt like he was coming back to life too, his lips searching for yours hungrily, emitting a small grunt into your mouth that only made you want more. 

“Jeonghan,” you breathed when he stopped kissing you, but his lips lingered on yours.

“I missed you,” he replied in kind, his lips brushing against yours softly.

You moved your hand to caress his chest over the black t-shirt he wore. “Do you want to show me?” you mumbled, pressing a tender kiss on his lips.

He moved his hand from your chin to cradle your cheek, looking into your eyes. Jeonghan lost count of the times he wished to be this close to you again, to feel the warmth of your skin, to breathe in your scent. Unable to break away from you, he pressed your body to the mattress, climbing on top of you while kissing your lips hungrily.

You made a muffled sound on his lips, grabbing his face to pull him as close as possible to you. Kissing Jeonghan still felt electrifying, now that you were part-human. You were still able to sense him through the bond. Everything was the same except that your senses were slightly dimmed.

“What’s that?” Jeonghan mumbled between kisses.

“It feels different,” you breathed, grabbing his shoulders, feeling the edge of his collarbone with the pads of your thumbs.

“Different, how?” he asked, his gaze coasting over the features of your pretty face.

“Like the stronger part of me is numb,” you said, showing him a meek smile when the explanation felt ridiculous to you. But your smile faded, the glint in your eyes dimming a little. “I can’t see your soul anymore.”

Jeonghan tensed slightly on top of you. “You could see my soul?”

You nodded slowly, ashamed that you never told him while you were able to see that fiery flame dancing inside him. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he replied in kind, realizing the reason behind the weird looks you would give him, you could see through him quite literally. “I wonder how many other things will be different now,” he said.

You would probably age closer to a normal rate now. You were part-human, you could fill your tummy with human food, and you were at risk of falling sick like humans but the probability of that could be minimal.

“You still like me, right?” you asked with a playful giggle.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, smiling with you. “Unfortunately, yes. I do,” he mumbled, lacing his words with sarcasm.

“How much?” you teased, enjoying that despite you were no longer able to see his soul, he was still an open book to you.

“Shut up,” he said, leaning over to press a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the sound of your giggle. “I love you,” he mumbled.

You closed your eyes, shuddering at the sound of his voice, the bond responding to it like a bolt of lightning shooting through you. “I love you more,” you replied sweetly, still grabbing his face with your hands.

At that, Jeonghan could have sworn that the pain he endured without you was cured. He released a groan into the kiss, his lips diving deeper into yours, only breaking away when your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, and he helped you take it off.

He followed your body when you sat up on the bed to take your t-shirt off, and he quickly moved to take your jeans and panties just so he could have you wholly naked before him. There was no rush to relieve the pressure growing inside him, he just wanted to appreciate every curve of your body, to leave kisses on every inch of your warm skin.

And you could see that need in his eyes, it was visible how much he missed you. He stood on his knees before you, looking at you for one long moment. Your heart squeezed for him when you realized that, while you were delighted to explore the changes in your now partially human form, he was healing from the grief he felt when you were gone.

“Jeonghan,” you called, snapping him from the train of thoughts reeling in his mind. His eyes met yours. “Come here,” you said, raising your arms to wrap him in them when he pressed his bare chest against yours.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you replied, parting your legs so he could slot his hips between them. You grabbed his cheek as he left one kiss on yours. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he gasped, moving his lips to leave a trail of kisses on your jawline, and your throat, humming when he realized that the scent of your skin remained the same. He delighted in the taste of your skin when he ran his tongue on one of your breasts, wrapping his lips around your pebbled nipple to tease it a little, just to hear the sweet sound of your moans.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, bringing a hand to grab a fistful of his dark hair.

He hummed softly, his breath fanning on your bumpy skin as he moved to lick your other nipple, kissing it and grazing it lightly with his teeth. He pressed his lips on your sternum, resuming his trail of kisses down until he sank between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathed, finding out that despite you were not at full power as you were, you were still very much sensitive. Your skin prickled when his hands slipped beneath your thighs, holding you as he placed the first kiss of many on your inner thigh.

Propping yourself on your elbows to look at him, he raised his eyes too, meeting yours right before licking a generous stripe on your folds. A shudder invaded you, reaching every nerve ending in your body, tearing apart your self-control. Your head lolled back, a pleased sigh escaping your lips as he worked his mouth on your pussy, practically making out with it.

The sensation was near-euphoric. It made your mind go blank. It left you breathless in an instant. You suddenly felt the weight of your absence, as if your body was gently reminding you that you had gone without his touch, even if you had not been aware of it. But a part of you was sure that you never wanted to go another day without his caress.

“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, running your fingers through his long hair, letting his tongue lap between your folds, drinking you in with raw moans.

Your orgasm came fast, faster than you wanted. Your jaw went slack with a loud moan, shuddering hard as he continued eating your pussy out, watching you come undone with lewd gasps until you let your body fall back on the mattress to enjoy the short aftershocks of your climax.

When he climbed back on top of you to kiss your mouth, you moaned when you tased yourself on his lips. Reaching for the belt of his jeans, you swiftly finished undressing him, not hiding how badly you needed him.

“Hey,” he breathed, touching the tip of your nose with his own. Your eyes met his as he lowered his bare body on yours, pressing his chest against yours.

You sighed, skin prickling when you felt his hard dick on your lower tummy as he kissed you again. “Jeonghan,” you moaned into the kiss. “Hurry.”

He obliged, smiling lightly at you before sneaking his hand between your pressed bodies, grabbing his fully hard cock to guide it to your pussy. His eyes swam all over the features of your face, nudging the bulbous head of his cock in your pooling entrance.

Your mouth parted, eyes widening in anticipation when you felt him. “Please,” you mouthed, bracing yourself for the electrifying feeling.

He swallowed hard, starting to sink inside you tortuously slow, delighting himself with the look on your face, the way a gasp left your mouth. You instinctively parted your legs for him, lifting your knees to your chest for him to push inside you to the hilt, and when he did, he released a raw moan.

Jeonghan pulled his hips back, to then push his cock in your walls slowly, as if testing you. He looked at you as he sheathed his cock inside you making you feel every raw inch, the vein in the underside of his shaft, the bulbous cockhead. He breathed out a broken moan, his face contorting in pleasure.

Jeonghan moved his hips, setting a faster pace on top of you when he made sure you had adjusted to the stretch of his cock. The smacking sounds of skin against skin became louder as he quite literally pounded on you, knocking the air out of your lungs with short gasps.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut as you swore that you would burst from the pleasure building inside you.

As though on command, he slowed down the rutting of his hips. He breathed fitfully against your lips, leaning his forehead on yours as he kept his thrusts gentle on you, massaging your walls slowly with his cock. “You feel so good,” he whispered, swallowing hard.

“You too,” you sighed, feeling his scarred chest with your palms, keeping your knees up for him to sink his cock deeper inside you. “So good.”

Jeonghan shook slightly, lifting his hips so his cock slipped out of you, paused, and then sheathed himself back inside you, making you feel the length of his cock, every ridge beneath his bulbous cockhead, the warmth of the base of his cock. He smiled when you moaned, gritting your teeth to hold out for him, but pleasure consumed you quickly.

“Baby,” he whispered, framing your head with his arms before leaning to kiss you. “I love you.”

It felt like his dreams came alive to haunt him in real life because for a split second, he was fearful again that this might not be real. But you moaned into the kiss, holding his shoulders with your hands to keep yourself in control. “I love you,” you breathed.

He locked his lips with yours, moaning into the kiss, keeping his thrusts at the same pace that was pushing you to the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasped, pinching your eyebrows almost involuntarily.

Jeonghan planted a loving kiss on your cheek. “Let go, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll come after you.”

“Come with me?” you mumbled.

He smiled at you. “We need to be careful now,” he whispered, pushing his lips against yours tenderly.

“I don’t want to,” you said in defiance, caressing the line of his back until your hands reached his ass, palming him as he pushed his cock inside you.

He laughed lightly, ignoring your feeble attempt at trapping him with your hands. “Do you want me to come inside you?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to speak up, keeping yourself angled for his cock massaging your walls. 

Jeonghan knew he had struck a weak point for you. He kissed you again, this time swiftly and chastely. “You wicked thing,” he breathed, pressing another kiss. “Want me to stuff you full of my cum?”

“Fuck, yes, yes, please,” you closed your eyes, inching closer to your orgasm.

He gave you an airy laugh, and you would have paid attention to it if it were not for the merciless shudder consuming you wholly. You cried out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over you, the pleasure so intense that your eyes brimmed with tears. “Jeonghan…”

Jeonghan reached to grab your hands, lacing your fingers with his, and putting them above your head as the pace of his thrusts became faster, harder. He moaned your name, making you think that he was coming with you, stuffing you full of his cum.

But then he pulled out with a raw groan, pushing his forehead against yours as he came on your tummy, ropes of warm cum spilling on your skin, dripping on your sides, trickling down your skin.

Not giving you the opportunity to protest, he kissed you. But you whined impishly in his mouth, making him laugh and press your hands on the pillows with more strength, easily overpowering you.

He stopped kissing you, pausing to look at your face. Once he saw you pouting, he started to laugh, his chest shaking against yours.

You tried to ignore what the sound of his laughter did to you. “You pulled out!” you whined, trying to free your hands from his grasp.

“We don’t know what could happen now that you’re human,” he replied with a dazzling smile.

Maybe he was right, but you just wanted to see that smile, to hear that laugh again so you continued with your childish act. “So what?”

He gave you an airy chuckle. “So what if I get you pregnant? Is that what you want?” he asked, but then something inside him shifted with the realization that it might be something you wanted.

“Maybe,” you replied, your gaze dimming but then you shook your head. “One day. Perhaps. I don’t know.”

He thought of coming up with a quippy response, but the feeling in his chest would not allow him. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he muttered.

After showering, Jeonghan sat at the foot of the bed, half-dressed and drying his long hair with a towel. He raised his eyes as you exited the tiny bathroom of the motel room, approaching him to stand between his parted knees.

“I bought us breakfast. With your money,” you smirked, putting your hands on his shoulders.

Jeonghan’s features broke into a smile. “That sounds great,” he replied, leaving aside the towel and grabbing one of your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles.

Then he gave you a look. One that spoke of months of thinking about you every day, of thinking about what he could have done with you. Life seemed so fragile to him, so fleeting after he lost you, that he kept thinking of the things he would have done differently. And now, you stood before him, a dream come true, the one wish he asked life to grant him.

“What?” you mumbled.

Jeonghan blinked repeatedly when you brought your hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs away. He smiled. “Do you like flowers?” 

› author's note: so this kind of just happened. i am obsessed with these two 😭 and can you guys believe that i wrote my first major character death scene ever because of this series? insane

toodles

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Wonwoo’s world was a fortress of facts and logic, impenetrable and wholly consuming. He existed in a space where every action was deliberate, every thought calculated. You, however, existed in the spaces he never noticed.

At first, he was just another colleague, albeit an impressive one. Jeon Wonwoo had a way of commanding attention without trying, his intelligence quietly magnetic. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment admiration turned into something more, but it might have been during one of those rare moments when he let his guard down.

It was during a late-night case, your third one that week. The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of the centrifuge. You sat across from him, noting how his brow furrowed in concentration as he sketched a diagram in the margins of the case file.

“You’re going to wear out the paper,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He didn’t look up but smirked faintly, a rare flicker of amusement that made your stomach flip. “Paper is resilient,” he replied, still scribbling.

It was such a small thing, yet you replayed that smirk over and over again on the way home.

After that, the things that frustrated others about him only endeared him to you more.

1. His Tunnel Vision

Wonwoo could spend hours dissecting a problem, completely oblivious to the world around him. You found it amusing how he’d forget basic things like lunch breaks or meetings, utterly consumed by his work. It became routine for you to slide a cup of coffee or a granola bar onto his desk without a word, and he’d take it with a quiet nod of thanks, not realizing how much effort you put into remembering what he liked.

2. His Dry Humour

Wonwoo wasn’t the type to crack obvious jokes, but his sarcasm often caught you off guard. Once, during a particularly tedious meeting, someone suggested an impractical solution, and Wonwoo, without looking up, murmured, “Sure, let’s just rewrite the laws of physics while we’re at it.” You had to bite your lip to stop from laughing, and when he noticed, he seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to catch it.

3. The Way He Got Lost in His Thoughts

Sometimes, you’d catch him staring off into space, his pen tapping rhythmically against his desk. You wondered what went on in that brilliant mind of his, wanting so badly to understand him better.

You weren’t bold, not with him. Wonwoo was too self-contained, too focused for grand gestures. Instead, you opted for quiet support:

Picking up extra tasks when he was swamped.

Laughing at his dry comments to show you appreciated his humour.

Offering insights during cases, hoping he’d see you as someone he could rely on.

And yet, he never noticed. He’d thank you in passing, but the gratitude never lingered.

It wasn’t as if he ignored you—quite the opposite. Wonwoo was polite and professional, even friendly in his quiet way. But there was a wall around him that you couldn’t quite break through, no matter how hard you tried.

The Moment You Knew You Were in Trouble was the day, you found him asleep in the break room, his head resting awkwardly on his folded arms. His glasses were slightly askew, and a stack of papers lay beside him. The sight was so vulnerable, so human, that your chest ached.

Without thinking, you draped your cardigan over his shoulders. He stirred slightly, murmuring your name before settling back into sleep.

You froze. It wasn’t just the way he said your name—it was the realization that you wanted to hear it like that all the time, soft and unguarded.

From that moment on, you knew you were hopelessly, irreversibly in love with Jeon Wonwoo. But what you didn’t know was that the seeds of his affection were quietly, unknowingly being planted in those same moments. He just hadn’t realized it yet.

The Day You actually Fell, was a late-night autopsy; you were the only two left in the lab. Wonwoo was standing across from you, utterly immersed in the specimen in front of him.

“This case is strange,” he mused, oblivious to your exhaustion. “The fracture patterns don’t match the expected force of impact…” His voice trailed off as he stared at you, his brows raised expectantly.

“Hmm?” you blinked, trying to appear as if you’d been paying attention and not focusing on the way his lashes brushed his cheek.

He gestured to the case file in your hands, clearly expecting you to follow his train of thought. You sighed and leaned closer to the table. “Wonwoo, not everyone thinks like you,” you said teasingly.

He only hummed, still analysing the data in front of him. But then, in an uncharacteristic move, he said, “That’s why I like working with you. You make up for what I miss.”

You felt your heart stutter. It wasn’t the compliment itself—it was the way he said it so simply, as if it were a fact he had no intention of overthinking.

Meanwhile, Director Lee Jihoon’s assistant, a quiet but sharp-eyed woman who had happened to be your best friend, had noticed some things in you. She had seen how your demeanour changed around Wonwoo—how you hesitated to speak up about your feelings, how you tried to downplay your affection with small gestures instead of taking the leap.

After a particularly long day, when you were waiting for your files to process and Jihoon’s assistant happened to be in the break room, she decided it was time to have a little chat.

She sat across from you with a cup of tea, her usual calm expression on her face. “You’ve been quiet lately. Everything okay?”

You looked up, startled. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jihoon’s assistant said, her tone flat. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Wonwoo. Have you thought about talking to him?”

You froze for a moment, unsure of how to answer. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your heart was already racing.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s painfully obvious that you have feelings for him. And if I’m being honest, he has them for you too—he’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

Your face flushed. “I—he doesn’t notice me like that.”

She shook her head. “Don’t sell yourself short. He’s been as lost in his work as he always is, but even he can’t miss how much you do for him. The way you look at him… You’re making it pretty hard to ignore.”

You looked down, nervous now. “I don’t want to make things weird. We’re colleagues, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

Jihoon’s assistant let out a sigh. “You know, if you keep waiting for the right moment to talk about it, it might never come. I get it—he’s Wonwoo, and he’s dense as a brick. But if you don’t take the first step, you’ll always be left wondering what could’ve been.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You’d been playing it safe, keeping your distance, because you didn’t want to risk ruining the easy dynamic between you and Wonwoo. But you knew, deep down, that the “what ifs” were eating at you.

“Just think about it,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “If you wait too long, it might be too late. He might not get it until someone else does.”

You nodded, lost in thought as she stood to leave. Jihoon’s assistant gave you one last look before disappearing, leaving you to wrestle with the new weight of her words.

Wonwoo wasn’t one for distractions, but he couldn’t deny that there was something different about you. It was subtle, at first. A look exchanged over a microscope, a soft laugh that followed one of his sarcastic comments. But nothing ever seemed out of place enough to make him think there was more to it.

He was a pathologist—his mind was consumed by the science, the details, the process. He didn’t have time for anything outside of that, and that’s how he preferred it. Still, there was something magnetic about you.

The First hint hit him one day when he walked into the break room after a long shift. He’d expected it to be empty—he was always the last one to leave, after all—but there you were, sitting at the table with your coffee, reviewing slides like it was just another normal day. He didn’t know what drew his attention, but his eyes landed on you and stayed there a moment too long.

Your focus, the way you leaned into your work with such ease, the small but steady way you always contributed to the team—it was almost like you’d made it effortless. He couldn’t put it into words, but it made him feel like he wasn’t the only one carrying the weight of the work. And for the first time, he noticed that you were always there for him in a way that seemed beyond professional.

That was the first crack in the armour.

The first time you brought him coffee, he almost didn’t understand why you had done it. He hadn’t asked for it, after all, but there you were, handing him a cup like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Here,” you said, a faint smile on your lips. “You looked like you needed it.”

For a moment, Wonwoo stood frozen, the warmth of the cup in his hands grounding him to the present. You didn’t expect anything from him, didn’t even bat an eye when he just stared at the coffee in his hands. But there was something in the way you handed it to him, something unspoken, that made him feel… seen.

You never asked for anything in return. You never expected a thank you. And that made it impossible to dismiss.

Then there was that day when he saw you with your hand wrapped up in bandages. It wasn’t anything serious—just a small cut, probably from handling sharp instruments in the lab—but to him, it felt like a catastrophe.

“Are you okay?” he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His focus had been elsewhere, but the moment his eyes landed on your hand, it was like a switch had been flipped.

You waved it off casually. “It’s fine, Wonwoo. Just a little slip.”

But it wasn’t fine. He couldn’t quite explain why, but seeing you hurt, even in the smallest way, left a strange, gnawing feeling in his chest.

And that was when it started to hit him—something was wrong. There was something more to the way he noticed you, something beyond mere professionalism.

It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots, though he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

He realized that you were always around, always thinking of him when no one else did. You didn’t wait for him to ask for help—you just did. You never made it obvious, but Wonwoo found himself relying on your presence more than he ever expected. He began to notice the little things: how you’d always be there when he needed a second opinion, how you seemed to understand exactly when to give him space and when to push him forward.

But it was when he found you late one night in the lab, bent over a file and still working despite the hour, that it really hit him. You were the only one who stayed late with him, the only one who seemed as obsessed with the cases as he was. And somewhere in the dim light of the lab, with the faint hum of the equipment as the only sound, he found himself wishing he could understand you better.

He wanted to know why your quiet gestures meant more to him than any words ever could.

Wonwoo wasn’t good at admitting these things—hell, he wasn’t even sure how to process it all. But as he stared at you from across the room, still unaware of the way his gaze lingered longer than it should, he finally understood one thing:

He was falling.

Harder than he expected.

Wonwoo never noticed how much you went out of your way for him until someone else pointed it out.

“Why do you always do Wonwoo’s extra analysis?” Dr. Choi Seungcheol asked one afternoon, standing beside you as you poured over slides. “You could just tell him to do it himself.”

You opened your mouth to defend him, but Seungcheol smirked knowingly. “Ah, I see. Never mind.”

It wasn’t until Jihoon and Seungcheol started teasing him about you during lunch breaks that Wonwoo began to notice. It started with small things—how you’d grab his coffee unprompted or ensure the lab stayed quiet during his most intense focus sessions. But then he saw it: the little glances, the way your hand hesitated before passing him a file as if nervous to brush against his.

Wonwoo wasn’t one for distractions, but for the first time, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

It hit him hard one evening when you showed up with a bandaged hand after accidentally cutting yourself. You brushed it off, joking that you weren’t as precise as he was, but he couldn’t shake the pang of concern in his chest. The thought of you getting hurt—even in small, clumsy ways—was suddenly unbearable.

For the first time in his career, Jeon Wonwoo felt something stronger than his drive for discovery. Something about you had slipped through the cracks of his one-track mind, and he realized he had fallen—deeply, unexpectedly, and far harder than he ever anticipated.

Director Lee Jihoon had seen the signs long before Wonwoo ever did. With years of experience in the medical field—and as someone who’d witnessed countless dynamics between staff—Jihoon had an uncanny ability to read the subtle shifts in interpersonal relationships. And he had been watching, waiting for the moment when Wonwoo would stop denying what was right in front of him.

It was late one evening when Jihoon decided it was time to intervene. The hospital was nearly empty, and Wonwoo was buried in a pile of case files in his usual spot in the lab. Jihoon stood at the doorway for a moment, watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“Wonwoo,” Jihoon called out, stepping into the lab with a knowing smile.

Wonwoo looked up, his face still half-focused on the case at hand. “Hmm?”

Jihoon casually leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you realize that you’re completely oblivious to the way she looks at you?”

Wonwoo blinked, completely unaware of what Jihoon meant. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon said flatly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The pathologist you’re always working with. The one who’s always doing everything for you without asking for anything in return.”

Wonwoo frowned, still confused. “She’s just… my colleague.”

Dr. Choi Seungcheol, who had been quietly observing the entire conversation from the doorway, sighed heavily and entered the room, shaking his head. “Wonwoo, you’re like a goldfish sometimes. She’s not just your colleague. She’s practically throwing herself at you, and you’re just sitting there with your nose in the slides.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Wonwoo protested, though a small flicker of uncertainty began to show on his face.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Listen, Wonwoo, I’m not saying you need to do anything about it—hell, I’m not sure you even know what to do about it. But if you don’t start paying attention to her sooner or later, someone else will.”

Seungcheol gave a small chuckle at that. “You’re lucky she hasn’t slapped you yet. She’s too nice to do that, but… come on. Pay attention to what’s happening under your nose.”

Wonwoo opened his mouth to argue, but the truth was, something had begun to click in his head. He had noticed the way you had always been there for him—quietly, without any demands—and how that made him feel… comfortable, like he could finally exhale after a long day. But he hadn’t thought about it beyond that.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Wonwoo muttered, still slightly in denial, but Jihoon wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

“And for the love of health, talk to her,” Jihoon added. “Or I’ll make Seungcheol drag you both into couples counselling with Soekmin.”

Wonwoo’s face turned red, and Seungcheol laughed loudly, clapping him on the back. “Good luck with that, man. We’ll be rooting for you.”

There was a Shift in the Air after the interventions from both sides had planted seeds of doubt and possibility in both you and Wonwoo. They hadn’t made it easy—in fact, they had only complicated things. But now, the next move was yours. The next move was his. And the hospital’s air was thick with the anticipation of what was to come.

The turning point was a late Friday evening, and you were reviewing slides when Wonwoo appeared at your desk, uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Do you want to grab dinner?” he asked, his ears a faint shade of pink.

You blinked, confused. “Dinner?”

“Yes,” he said firmly this time, though his voice still carried a nervous edge. “It’s the least I can do. For everything.”

You smiled, heat rising to your cheeks as you followed him out. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo’s thoughts were in overdrive, determined to finally show you the depth of how far he had fallen—harder than either of you could have imagined.

Your brain short-circuited.

Dinner? With him? Like… just the two of you?

“Sorry, what?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he hadn’t anticipated your disbelief. “Dinner. You and me. I thought it might be nice to talk about something other than work for a change.”

You stared at him, the words registering but not making sense. You’d spent so long convincing yourself that he saw you as nothing more than a colleague, a reliable teammate in the lab. And now here he was, casually asking you to dinner like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Uh… I—” you started, feeling your cheeks flush. You tried to form a coherent sentence, but all that came out was, “Are you… serious?”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his expression softening slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You blinked, trying to keep your cool, but your heart was racing. He was serious. Wonwoo was asking you to dinner.

“I mean, yeah,” you stammered, finally managing to pull yourself together. “Sure. Dinner sounds great.”

His lips curved into a small smile—barely there, but enough to send your pulse into overdrive. “Good. I’ll text you the place.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out of the lab, leaving you sitting there in stunned silence.

The moment the door swung shut behind him, you dropped your head into your hands, muffling a groan. What just happened? Did you dream that entire exchange?

Jihoon’s assistant, who had been lurking nearby with her ever-present clipboard, peeked around the corner. “Did he just—”

“Yes,” you cut her off, your voice muffled by your hands.

Her grin was downright smug. “Took him long enough.”

“Don’t,” you groaned, lifting your head to glare at her. “I’m already freaking out.”

She shrugged, completely unfazed. “Relax. It’s just dinner. You’ve spent more time with him in this lab than most couples do in their first year of dating. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s not helping,” you muttered, though a small part of you was grateful for her attempt at humour.

But as the initial shock wore off, a new feeling began to take its place—anticipation. Because for the first time, it felt like the unspoken connection between you and Wonwoo was finally becoming something real. Something worth exploring.

And you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

After Wonwoo left the lab, the rest of your shift felt like a blur. You went through the motions of organizing case files and clearing your workstation, but your thoughts kept circling back to his invitation.

You replayed his words over and over in your head, searching for any sign that it was anything more than a casual dinner. But there had been something in his tone—something quieter, more deliberate. It didn’t feel like a spur-of-the-moment decision.

By the time you got home, you were torn between nervous excitement and full-on panic. What were you supposed to wear? Was this dinner supposed to be casual, or was it more of a… date?

Jihoon’s assistant texted you, clearly not done meddling:

Bestie: Don’t overthink it. Wear something that makes you feel confident.

You: Define “confident.”

Bestie: The outfit you’d pick if you knew you’d be confessing tonight. ;)

You: …I’m blocking you.

Bestie: Love you too.

Her teasing didn’t help much, but you managed to settle on something simple yet flattering—a look that said, “I didn’t try too hard, but I still look good.”

The restaurant Wonwoo picked wasn’t overly fancy, but it wasn’t a hole-in-the-wall either. It was cosy, with soft lighting and a menu that hinted at thoughtful planning. When you arrived, you found him already there, sitting at a table near the window.

Wonwoo wasn’t dressed up, but he wasn’t in his usual scrubs either. He looked… nice. Too nice. You almost tripped over yourself walking up to the table.

“Hey,” you said, your voice slightly higher-pitched than usual.

He stood up as you approached, giving you a small, polite smile. “You made it.”

“Of course,” you replied, sitting down and trying not to overanalyse the way he pulled out your chair.

The conversation started off light—work, the cases you were both juggling, and a few jokes about Seungcheol’s over-the-top antics in the ER. But as the meal progressed, something shifted.

Wonwoo leaned forward, his gaze unusually focused on you, even by his standards. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You blinked, your nerves spiking. “What’s that?”

He hesitated for a moment, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of his glass. “Why do you always stay so late at the lab? You’re one of the best at what you do—you don’t need to put in all those extra hours.”

The question caught you off guard, and you laughed softly, trying to play it off. “Well, someone has to keep up with you.”

He didn’t laugh. His gaze remained steady, almost searching. “That’s not what I meant.”

You faltered, suddenly unsure of how to answer. Should you tell him the truth? That you stayed late because you wanted to be near him, because those quiet hours in the lab with him had become the highlight of your day?

“I guess…” you started, your voice softer now, “I just like being there. It feels… meaningful. Like the work we do actually matters.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly, but you could tell he wasn’t completely satisfied with your answer. “And it has nothing to do with me?”

Your breath hitched.

You glanced up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His expression was calm, as always, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made it impossible to look away.

“I…” You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I notice everything,” he said quietly, his voice steady but his gaze impossibly soft. “I just didn’t know what to do about it.”

Your eyes widened, your mind racing. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

Before you could respond, he continued, his tone more deliberate now. “You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And I… I think I’ve been taking that for granted. But I don’t want to anymore.”

Your heart felt like it was about to burst. “Wonwoo, I—”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing yours in a gesture so gentle it almost broke you. “Let me make it up to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Starting with tonight.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed by the vulnerability in his expression, the sincerity in his words. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that this wasn’t just a one-sided crush anymore.

“Okay,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. “Let’s start with tonight.”

And as the two of you sat there, the walls that had always separated you began to crumble, piece by piece.

The dinner had been… perfect. You couldn’t stop smiling as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant into the crisp evening air. The streets were quieter now, with just a few couples and late-night wanderers strolling under the warm glow of streetlights.

Wonwoo walked beside you, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, his gaze flickering between the pavement and the horizon. He looked calm on the surface, but you noticed the small signs of his nerves—how he kept adjusting his pace to match yours, the way his fingers fidgeted inside his pockets, and the soft furrow of his brows like he was lost in thought.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked suddenly, glancing at you.

“The dinner?” you replied, smiling up at him. “It was amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

He nodded, his lips twitching like he wanted to say more but couldn’t quite find the words.

You decided to keep the conversation light. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d pick such a nice spot. I kind of pictured you as more of a ‘grab-a-burger-on-the-way-home’ type.”

That earned you a soft chuckle, and the sound made your chest feel warm. “I wanted it to be nice,” he said simply, his voice low.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart flutter at how earnest he sounded.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you walked, the night air carrying the faint scent of flowers from a nearby park. But there was something in the air between you—an unspoken tension that had been building since the moment he’d asked you to dinner.

When you glanced at him again, you noticed his jaw was set, his eyes focused on the path ahead. He was hesitating about something, and you could almost feel the weight of his thoughts.

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, stopping in your tracks.

He turned to you, his eyes wide with surprise. “What is it?”

You took a step closer, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re holding back,” you said, your voice steady but gentle. “What’s on your mind?”

His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He looked away, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up.”

You frowned, confused. “Mess what up?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “I’m not… good at this. At knowing what to say, or how to act. I’ve never really…” He trailed off, his voice barely audible now. “I’ve never done this before.”

Your heart ached at how vulnerable he sounded, how out of his depth he seemed. For all his brilliance and confidence in the lab, here he was, fumbling through emotions he didn’t quite know how to express.

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, stepping even closer. “You don’t have to know everything. You’re allowed to feel things and figure them out as you go.”

He met your eyes then, his gaze filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “But what if I ruin it? What if I don’t do this right?”

You smiled, your heart swelling at how genuine he was. “You’re doing fine,” you whispered.

Before he could respond, before his nerves could talk him out of it again, you closed the distance between you and cupped his face in your hands. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, he froze.

Then you kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate—just a soft, lingering press of your lips against his, a gentle reassurance that he didn’t have to overthink everything.

Wonwoo’s hands hovered awkwardly at first, unsure of where to go, but then they found your waist, his grip tentative yet firm. He kissed you back slowly, like he was trying to memorize every detail, every sensation.

When you finally pulled back, his face was flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes were wide with wonder.

“See?” you said, your voice teasing but warm. “You didn’t mess anything up.”

He blinked at you, still processing what had just happened, and then—slowly—he smiled. It wasn’t one of his usual polite or reserved smiles. It was soft and real, a glimpse of the man behind the walls he kept so carefully guarded.

“Can we… do that again?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed, your hands still resting against his chest. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And this time, when he leaned in, there was no hesitation.

The second kiss was slower, more deliberate, and yet there was a new energy behind it. Wonwoo’s grip on your waist tightened, his nervousness giving way to something warmer, something more certain. He was still shy, still tentative, but there was no mistaking the way he leaned into you now, as if he didn’t want to let go.

When you pulled back again, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. You could feel his heart racing, his fingers fidgeting slightly where they rested on your waist.

You smiled, brushing a strand of his hair back from his face. “Relax,” you teased gently. “You’re doing just fine.”

Wonwoo let out a soft laugh, but it was tinged with a nervous edge. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted, his voice shaky but honest. “But I know I—”

He stopped abruptly, as if realizing he was about to say too much. His hands dropped from your waist, and he took a small step back, raking a hand through his hair.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “You know you… what?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his brows furrowing. It was clear he was trying to gather his thoughts, but they seemed to be tumbling out faster than he could process them.

“I just—” He exhaled sharply, looking almost frustrated with himself. “I need you,” he blurted out suddenly, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

Your breath hitched.

He froze, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe he’d said it aloud. “I mean—” He started waving his hands awkwardly, stumbling over his words. “Not like that—not just like that. I mean, yes, like that, but also—” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t coming out right.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Wonwoo,” you said, reaching out to take his hands in yours.

He looked up at you, his cheeks flushed, his expression a mix of panic and vulnerability.

“It’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hands gently. “You don’t have to explain everything right now.”

“But I do,” he insisted, his voice quieter now but no less urgent. “I need you to know… you’re not just someone I work with. You’re not just…” He trailed off, his brows knitting together as he searched for the right words. “You mean more to me than I’ve ever let on, and I don’t want to mess this up because I don’t know how to say it.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at his honesty.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” you said softly, your thumbs brushing over the back of his hands. “Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

Wonwoo hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to where your hands were intertwined. Then he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity.

“I feel like I’ve been walking around in my own little world for so long,” he admitted. “But then you came along, and suddenly, everything felt… different. Like the world wasn’t just mine anymore. Like I finally had someone to share it with.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you smiled through them, your heart swelling at his words.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, stepping closer.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible now. “I’m scared I’ll mess it up, but I’m more scared of not trying. Because I don’t think I can go back to pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

You cupped his face in your hands again, your thumbs brushing against his jawline. “Then don’t pretend,” you said simply.

His breath hitched, and before he could overthink it, you kissed him again—this time with everything you’d been holding back for so long. And when he kissed you back, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the two of you, finally on the same page.

When you pulled back, his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he admitted, his voice still tinged with wonder.

“Actually,” you teased, grinning up at him, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

He laughed softly, his hands settling at your waist again. “I really do need you,” he said, quieter this time but no less sincere.

“And you have me,” you replied, your heart feeling lighter than it had in months. “You always have.”

For the first time, the awkwardness between you felt like it had melted away, leaving only the truth of what had been there all along.

The energy between you and Wonwoo had shifted completely after that kiss. There was a warmth in the air, a quiet kind of joy that neither of you wanted to ruin with too many words. The city seemed to fade into the background as the two of you strolled side by side, your shoulders occasionally brushing.

Wonwoo’s hand hovered near yours, like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. You smiled to yourself, deciding to help him out. Without a word, you slipped your hand into his.

He stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then his fingers curled around yours, his grip steady and firm.

“Is this okay?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He nodded quickly, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah. More than okay.”

The quiet continued, comfortable but charged with the promise of something more. When your apartment building came into view, you slowed your steps, suddenly hyper-aware of what this might mean.

“Do you… want to come up?” you asked softly, stopping in front of the entrance.

Wonwoo blinked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then his lips curved into a small, nervous smile. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“I do,” he said quickly, his ears turning pink. “I just… I don’t want to assume anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His earnestness made your heart ache in the best way. “You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you reassured him. “I just want to spend more time with you.”

That seemed to ease his nerves a bit, and he followed you inside, his hand still clasped tightly in yours.

Your apartment was warm and inviting, filled with little touches of your personality—books stacked on the coffee table, a throw blanket draped over the couch, a few plants by the windowsill. Wonwoo looked around, taking it all in with quiet curiosity.

“It’s nice,” he said, his voice soft. “Feels like you.”

You smiled, setting your bag down. “Thanks. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” he said, but he didn’t move to sit. Instead, he stood by the window, his hands in his pockets as he gazed out at the city lights.

When you brought him a glass of water, he turned to you with a small smile. “Thanks.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the evening, of everything that had happened, hung in the air between you.

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, setting your own glass down.

He looked at you, his gaze searching. “Yeah?”

"You're overthinking again," you teased gently, stepping closer, your hand finding his.

Wonwoo chuckled nervously, his ears turning red. "l just... I don't want to mess this up."

"You won't" you replied softly, leaning up to press a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Let me handle it."

His eyes widened slightly at your boldness, but he didn't pull away. If anything, he seemed frozen, his breath catching as you leaned in closer. Your hands slid up to his shoulders, guiding him back until the couch stopped him.

You pushed him down gently, straddling his lap with a confidence you didn't fully feel but knew he needed from you.

"ls this okay?" you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear.

Wonwoo’s hands hovered awkwardly at your sides before they finally settled on your waist, his touch tentative but grounding. "Y-Yeah," he stammered, his voice low and hoarse. "It's...more than okay."

You smiled, leaning down to kiss him again, this time deeper, more deliberate.

He responded hesitantly at first, but as your hands trailed down his chest, teasing the buttons of his shirt, he began to relax, his grip on your waist tightening. His lips moved against yours with more certainty, a soft groan escaping him when your fingers skimmed over the bare skin beneath his shirt.

"You're so cute when you're nervous," you teased between kisses, nipping at his bottom lip. "But you don't need to be."

"I've just.. never done this before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes darted away from yours, clearly embarrassed.

You paused, cupping his cheek and tilting his face back toward you. "Hey" you said softly, your thumb brushing over his flushed skin. "We'll go slow, okay? Just trust me."

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for reassurance, and you leaned in to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, letting him set the pace. Gradually, his confidence grew, his hands exploring your body with more purpose as he followed your lead. When you pulled his shirt off, his breath hitched, and you couldn't help but smile at how endearing he was, every reaction honest and unguarded.

You kissed your way down his neck and built torso. Taking a moment to admire his firm pecks before continuing your descent. You end up knelt down between his spread thighs, hands hovering over his belt as you look up at him for permission.

It takes a few seconds to register what you’re asking. His eyes widening at the realisation but he nods eagerly, running a nervous hand through his hair as he wets his lower lip in anticipation.

His pants are unbuckled and unzipped with such precision it leaves him in awe. The gentle tap of your fingers against his hips signal him to raise them so you can tug his pants down. The distinct bulge in his boxers makes your mouth water. He was clearly big but you needed to warm him up to it as much as you wanted to swallow him whole.

Leaning forward, you palm him softly, earning a low groan, almost restrained, as if he were embarrassed.

“Let me hear you, Wonu.” Your voice silly and sweet it hypnotises him.

The moment your lips press a gentle kiss to his clothed bulge he moans out your name, instinctively bucking up and immediately apologising for it. But you giggle and reassure that it's okay as you continue to warm him up with open mouthed kisses over the fabric of his briefs.

Wonwoo is a mess. Moaning and gasping at the feeling as he watches you and he’s already predicting how much worse he’ll be should you actually put him in your mouth.

“Fuck.” He breathes when you let up, taking the time to gather himself, pushing his glasses back up and breathing in deeply.

“Ready for more?” you ask sweetly, a tilt of your head that lures him in even more that he already was.

“Y- Mhm-” His voice cracks. “Yes. Yeah.”

He lifts his hips again for you to rid him of the last barrier. And the gasp that you let out made him panic. But you instantly let out a moan of his name at the sight of his cock.

Thick girth, long and pretty.

You know you should probably ease him into it, probably kitten lick his tip first and suckle but the ache between your thighs has you thinking with your clit.

Using both hands, you grasp him and you both make a sound of appreciation. A generous amount of precum has bubbled and you slick that all over his length before you take him. Hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head.

As you got used to his size and your pace built, Wonwoo let out a shaky laugh, his hands tangling in your hair. "I didn't think... this would happen tonight" he murmured, his voice filled with awe and something deeper.

You grinned, your lips popping off him. "Neither did I. But here we are."

Wonwoo had no chance to say anything else because your mouth was back on him, his balls tightening as his orgasm approached quickly. His grip on your hair tightened but you didn’t mind, pressing your thighs together harder at the feeling.

He looked so gorgeous like this. More spectacular than any specimen you’ve had under a microscope. Head thrown back, glasses barely hanging on, throat bobbing as he swallowed air, neck and chest flushed with heat and glistening in sweat. And the sounds he was making… a symphony if you’ve ever heard one.

“Oh- ah I think I’m cl- Shit. I’m coming.” He tried to warn and pull you off all at the same time but you tucked harder, pushed further and when he finally let go, you watched as he fell apart. Ethereal, truly.

You hummed at the taste of him, sending final shocks through his already sensitive cock. Once you were certain he had nothing left in him, you popped off and made a show of swallowing smiling up at him. He was so out of breath as he watched you get up from the floor and gently hover above his lap, careful not to touch his spent cock.

“You swallowed…” He observed.

“I did.” You confirmed and he pulled your face down to kiss you again. Breathing you in like you were the true oxygen.

And as the night stretched on, you guided him through every moment, showing him there was nothing to be nervous about. By the time you both lay tangled in each other's arms, his head resting against your chest, Wonwoo's earlier hesitance was replaced by a quiet, satisfied smile.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to focus at work again," he mumbled, his voice laced with sleepiness but still carrying a hint of humour.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. "We'll figure it out. Together."

The morning at SVT MED began as usual—the hum of machines, the shuffle of papers, and the quiet murmur of professionals focused on their work. You walked into the pathology wing, coffee in hand, your thoughts still replaying last night’s moments like a favourite song.

Your attempt to appear nonchalant was immediately foiled when Dr. Choi Seungcheol leaned against the counter, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement.

“Morning,” he greeted casually, his smirk betraying the innocence of his tone.

“Morning,” you replied with practiced neutrality, heading straight for your desk.

As you settled in, his gaze lingered. You could feel it. Finally, he chuckled, low and teasing. “You’re glowing.”

You shot him a side-eye glare but refused to engage further.

Before he could push the topic, Wonwoo entered the room. He moved with his usual quiet confidence, but something about him seemed… lighter. His shoulders weren’t as stiff, and there was a subtle brightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Good morning,” he said simply, his voice softer than usual.

“Morning,” you replied, your stomach doing a little flip at the way his gaze briefly lingered on you.

Seungcheol’s sharp eyes darted between the two of you, his smirk deepening. “Huh,” he muttered, amused, before leaving you both to the quiet tension that remained.

Later in the day, Director Lee Jihoon made his rounds through the pathology wing. His keen gaze swept over the lab, stopping briefly at the sight of Wonwoo and you standing side by side.

Wonwoo, known for his one-track focus and preference for solitude, was suddenly handing you reports himself, consulting you on cases he normally handled solo, and—most damningly—smiling in your direction.

Jihoon turned to Seungcheol, who was watching the scene unfold from his usual perch near the counter. “Am I imagining things, or has Wonwoo finally realized what’s been in front of him this whole time?”

Seungcheol grinned knowingly. “It only took a miracle, Director. I wouldn’t call him quick, but he’s thorough once he catches on.”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You mean to tell me this whole time she’s been pining after him, and he’s just now waking up?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Seungcheol said with a smirk. “Besides, you can’t rush Wonwoo. His brain moves at its own pace.”

Jihoon shook his head, muttering something about oblivious geniuses, before moving on.

As Jihoon walked away, Seungcheol glanced at the clock, his expression briefly tightening. His normally laid-back demeanour shifted ever so slightly, his shoulders stiffening as though some invisible weight had settled on him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and quickly silenced it.

“Busy night ahead, Dr. Choi?” Jihoon’s voice startled him, the director’s sharp eyes catching the slight tension in Seungcheol’s posture.

“Always,” Seungcheol replied smoothly, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Jihoon paused, his brows furrowing slightly. “Make sure whatever’s pulling at you doesn’t affect your focus here. Lives depend on it.”

Seungcheol gave a tight nod, his jaw clenching as he turned away. As he exited the lab, the faintest trace of guilt flickered across his face, disappearing as quickly as it came.

Outside, his phone buzzed again. This time, he checked it—a short, urgent message from a familiar number. “Same place as always. Don’t be late.”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before heading toward the trauma wing.

By the time the workday ended, the lab had mostly emptied out, leaving only you and Wonwoo. The silence was filled with the quiet hum of the machines, but the tension between you was warm, not awkward.

Wonwoo approached your desk, his hands tucked into his coat pockets. “Do you have plans tonight?” he asked, his voice careful but tinged with hope.

You looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Not really. Why?”

“I thought maybe we could have dinner again,” he said, his eyes flicking nervously to yours. “If you’re not too tired.”

Your heart skipped, but you played it cool. “I’d love that.”

The way his face lit up made your chest feel lighter, and as the two of you walked out of the lab together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wonderful was just beginning.

kari's taglist: @phattyboo90 @welcometomyoasissvt med taglist (open)

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