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the earth is just a star, and she becomes my entire world.
ꨄ.. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀leehan x f!reader.
sypnosis: you never believe in stuff like written in the stars or love at first sight, but a chance encounter with leehan makes you second doubt yourself and everything you know about the violent world around you. as the final bloody fight approaches, you wonder: should you run away together, or fight in the war that threatens to tear you two apart? (wc 18.4k)
tags: major character death; gang and general violence; suggestive (fade to black); forbidden love; love at first sight; leehan is taesan's younger brother.
a/n: happy leehan day! inspired heavily by west side story!!! i watched wss for this and mastered the art of muting everytime ansel elgort opened his mouth to sing. you'll see the names of the gangs are inspired by k-pop demon hunters. this is dedicated to my girl mone chiba who will be skating to r&j at the olympics please look out for her thank you!
“cats eat birds, [y/n]. those tigers eat us magpies. if you see one, run.”
wonbin had drilled those words into your head ever since he picked you off the streets, and he made you recite it every day. that was how important it was. the magpies’ feud with the tigers ran deep. ever since the tigers drove the magpies out of a section of their territory, taking over with their gaudy style pomp and circumstance. the two gangs have been entangled in a bloody clash ever since. the whole of the city split into two - the proud tigers or the conniving magpies; the opulent oranges of the tigers or the deep blue of the magpies; the tigers who fill fountains with champagne or the magpies who hide away anything that shines for themselves.
so alike, yet so different. but in the end, the same in the eyes of god: pitiful, and full of hatred.
bright white and neon blues wash across your face. wonbin sneezes as you drop a box of ramen packets onto the ground, a cloud of dust jumping up from the floor and probably settling into your hair. you count through the packets… forty four, forty five… you look down at the numbers jiwon had penned down for you - fifty packets of ramen. close enough, you tick off the box. you sigh, the last of the easy stuff done. now, the makgeolli, which is strewn haphazardly across the floor because wonbin bumped into the box when he tried to jump you on your shift.
you become one with the rubber floor as you crawl on your knees, arm reaching out under a shelf to pull a bottle out. another has rolled next to a can of tomatoes, and you pick that up as well, the label long faded and peeling. you turn the can around in your hands for the expiry date - ten months ago, you should chuck it out. you make a mental note to tell jiwon as you set it and the bottles of makgeolli into the box.
“you are boring, this is boring!” wonbin can’t take it anymore, and he snatches the last bottle of makgeolli from your hands, “seriously, what’s your issue?”
“my issue?” you stare at him pointedly, “- is you disturbing my work.”
you lean over the box of bottles to snatch the bottle from his hands, but all he does is lean back and hold it higher in the air.
“[y/n]! i need your help!” jiwon yells from upstairs.
“yeah, i'll be right there!” you yell back as you swipe at wonbin, but he dances out of your way into the rows of stock jiwon keeps at the back of the basement.
“you little -!” you stumble after him.
“you're living with the dust bunnies and rats, [y/n], genuinely,” wonbin frowns as you wind up on him, finally cornering him into the wall.
“it's better than sitting in jail, i'll tell you that,” you finally grab the bottle from his hands, stomping back over to the boxes of makgeolli and reuniting it with the rest of the batch. one, two, three, four -
“ever since you went up there and came back, you’ve changed,” wonbin starts quietly, unmoving from his spot against the wall.
“you noticed?” you scoff, checking off the list on your clipboard.
“[y/n]!” jiwon calls again.
“god, she heard you the first time!” wonbin yells back, and you slap him with the clipboard on the arm.
"don't be rude,” you hiss.
"i'm sorry! give me ten!” you yell, and jiwon lets out an affirmative - ‘alright!’
wonbin grabs you by the arm and spins you around to face him - "you gotta come back. we need you.”
“i’m done with the magpies, bbin. no more fights, no more violence, no more blood,” you brush him off, holding up your hands as if in surrender, "i'm a changed man. i'm not going to fights and rumbles anymore.”
wonbin snorts, “you can say all that, but you know you’re magpie until the day you die.”
“well, if i die tomorrow, at least i'll die knowing i tried to become better,” you stare at him, “unlike some of us.”
wonbin just shakes her head, as if the few moons he had on you made him privy to information and wisdom that your naive self didn’t register yet.
“you should at least look.”
he pushes the card he brought into the store into your hands again and you raise an eyebrow, scanning the brightly printed words.
“what’s this?”
he leans over and points out the words, "an in - vi - ta - tion…” he says slowly.
"i know how to read,” you snatch the card away from him, "i meant - what’s the invitation for?”
"a neighbourhood dance, down at the school,” he blinks innocently at you, “just sodas, partying, and dancing. no fighting, i promise.”
“you can promise all you want, but i know you can’t keep yourself out of trouble. you guys are born from trouble.”
you shake your head, turning the card in your hand. you know going into that dance will just invite the past to the present, and soon enough you’ll be lumped in with the delinquents and troublemakers again, and all these few months away from the magpies and making a living for yourself will be for nothing.
“besides, my parole officer says i'm not allowed to go out.”
“you literally just stabbed a guy,” wonbin narrows his eyes.
“exactly,” you affirm, kneeling down to count up the jars of peach preserves sitting snugly in their box, “and that’s why i'm not going.”
at your refusal he deflates, throwing his hands up in the air.
“you're such a chicken, [y/n],” he picks his way across the basement, avoiding boxes of products and stray jars that had rolled across the floor. he grabs the banister of the stairs going up and watches you.
“you used to be cool, now you just hang out with jiwon all day and do boring shit,” he says, and you just shrug.
“she gave me a place to stay, and a job. i'm trying to do better, wonbin,” you toss your pen at him and he catches it in one hand, “sitting in that jail made me think a lot about myself - about how i don't want to live a life dedicated to the streets and hating people and getting into fights just because someone said i should. you should try it, it’s called introspection.”
wonbin scoffs, “you’re way too deep, man.”
“better start before you end up dead.”
“i'm gonna live fast and die young,” wonbin declares as he pulls himself up the stairs and you follow, boxes of toffees and bottles of soda in hand.
“afternoon, jiwon,” wonbin throws a whistle at her as he slams down your pen and picks through the candy at the register. you give her an apologetic smile as you set down the clipboard and boxes.
the sky outside is dyed in hues of pinks and oranges.
"i told you not to come into my store anymore,” jiwon frowns at wonbin, feather duster in hand.
"i’m literally a paying customer,” wonbin hums as he looks between the fruit gummies and the chocolate bars.
"you literally haven’t paid for anything, ever!” jiwon approaches with her duster just as wonbin pulls the pack of gummies off the rack, tearing it open and immediately popping one into his mouth.
“that’s not true,” wonbin says mid-chew, even though everyone knows it is.
"you need to pay me for that candy,” jiwon barks.
"put it on [y/n]’s tab, since she’s so much better than us all,” he barely hides the contempt in his voice as he tosses the pack into your face. it sails over your shoulder and lands on the floor.
"you need to leave,” you say exasperatedly, pushing wonbin in the direction of the door.
"the dance, [y/n], remember,” he looks you straight in the eyes as he pulls back the handle, and he disappears with a jingle of the bell above the door.
“you need -” jiwon starts.
“better company. i know, i know,” you finish, sighing as you pick up the opened pack of gummies from the floor, “but wonbin’s not a bad person.”
jiwon frowns, and you know she doesn’t agree.
“kids like us don’t get second chances, jiwon,” you pick up a pair of scissors to score through the plastic wrap on the boxes, “you’re born into violence and anger and you die violent and angry. that’s the way it is. i can’t blame wonbin for that.”
“you’re not a bad kid,” she reasons.
“that’s because i’m the lucky one who got a chance,” you offer a bottle of soda to jiwon, who stacks it neatly into the shelf behind the counter, “you gave me one.”
“hm, i guess you are useful enough to keep around, you’re pretty good at keeping the floors clean,” she watches as you drop a handful of gold wrapped toffees into the half empty jar.
“i clean as well as you pay me,” the two of you look down to stare at the polished stone floor, and your reflections stare back.
“you must be a millionaire then,” she jokes, and you laugh. it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“you’re a good kid, [y/n],” she pats you on the shoulder.
“trying my best here,” you give her a tight-lipped smile.
“and you can start by making sure the counters are squeaky clean,” she tosses a rag at you and you sigh, turning to get started on scrubbing down years of accumulated grime and dust on jiwon’s counters.
“just act cool, dude. it’s just minju,” taesan slings an arm around leehan. the party he just walked into is chaotic - loud, just like the tigers themselves. the music pulsates through the wood flooring of the gym and the smell of alcohol is overwhelming.
“i don’t know about this,” leehan mumbles.
“lighten up, minju’s my smartest friend, and she’s a nice person. you’ll like her soon enough.”
taesan pats leehan on the back and is immediately sucked up by the crowd of his adoring subordinates. sungho hovers around leehan.
"hey. you look pale.”
"don't you think i'm a bit -” leehan swallows harshly, “strange?”
minju is sweet and well-liked. on the other hand, leehan’s only friends outside of taesan and sungho are fish, and his favourite pastime is looking at fish, and his preferred conversation starter is ‘do you like fish?’.
"not at all,” sungho shrugs, "and minju doesn’t care.”
his blond friend stares at him, "you don’t like her, do you?”
“i - i like her!” leehan says defensively, “just as - as a friend!”
what leehan actually means is that he doesn’t want to be tied down to the tigers, his heart yearns for adventure and something new, and maybe a quiet cottage in the countryside where he can grow his own food in solitude. he hasn't even dreamed of getting a date. but whatever taesan says, leehan follows.
so, if this was a fish metaphor, it would be that he is a fish in a saltwater tank that yearns for the ocean.
he only agreed to go out with minju because taesan owes her one - for saving his life once. leehan doesn’t have anything against her. once in a while, she says something that makes him laugh. but this isn’t love, he knows it isn’t.
sungho opens his mouth -
“sungho! leehan!” riwoo interrupts as he floats over, and by the looks of it, he’s the only person in the vicinity not drunk.
“finally decided to come to a party, eh,” he ribs leehan, who smiles plainly.
“taesan dragged me here.”
“next thing you know, princess leehan is going to get into a fight,” riwoo jokes, and taesan whips his head around from talking to another tiger member.
“no, no,” taesan pushes riwoo out of the way and shouts over the music, “leehan’s not getting into any fights.”
leehan gulps at the harsh reminder. sungho raises an eyebrow at him. maybe he shouldn’t have told sungho anything - he and taesan were like peas in a pod, he probably will tattle-tell and blab to taesan about what leehan said when they got home.
"don't put ideas into his head,” taesan groans, shooing riwoo away with a flick of his hand. riwoo just quirks an eyebrow as he slinks away, and leehan watches how he melts into the crowd - one with the tigers, dressed in orange and black.
“why don’t i get to fight?” leehan knows the answer, but he asks anyway.
“do you even know how to throw a punch properly?” taesan raises an eyebrow, “you work at a store that sells tanks, driftwood, and exotic fish, leehan. besides, you’re my little brother, and i'm not letting you anywhere near that shit.”
leehan nods obediently, and a smile splits over taesan’s face.
"heya, you guys,” minju appears out of nowhere, and taesan wiggles his eyebrows at leehan before grabbing sungho and pulling him away from the pair.
"hi minju,” leehan awkwardly starts, "how was your day?”
"i went into the clinic today - the doctor was doing a surgery today, so i had to look after the other patients.”
minju wasn’t like the other tigers, whose lives revolved mainly around fighting, drinking, and doing their best attempt at eradicating the magpies. she was nice, and actually did something good - leehan remembered how much she talked about her job, something about being a doctor for children and victims of gang violence, and he felt guilty about how he couldn’t find interest in someone as amazing as her.
"how about you?” she smiles sweetly at him.
"the same old,” leehan replies. and by that he means feeding the fishes in his tank, snacking on fruit, and talking to all of the old people in town, all while working at a store nobody visits.
minju opens her mouth to reply, but sirens cut through the music and someone yells, ‘cops! scatter!’.
instantly, people rush past leehan in a whirlwind, and the world seems to suddenly tip upside down. he gets swept away from minju, who disappears into the throng of people rushing for the entrance. in the thick of it all, taesan grabs leehan’s hand and pulls him out of the crowd, into the crumbling basketball court right outside of the abandoned gym. bodies continue to stream past leehan, pressing into him like sardines in a can. he watches as clumps of tigers and who-knows-who bound into the night, darting away as if they were never there. the party clears out fast enough for the sergeant to locate taesan, storming over and blowing his whistle obnoxiously, putting on a show for people that don’t care enough to listen.
“first the fight in the park, the vandalism, and the petty thievery. now it's a public nuisance of a party, do you teenagers ever learn?” sergeant kim bellows, shaking a fist at taesan, who just laughs easily and puts his hands behind his head.
"calm down, sergeant kim, it’s just kids having fun!” taesan deflects.
"you and those stupid magpies, getting into fisticuffs and throwing loud parties,” the sergeant shakes a finger in taesan’s face, "i’m telling ya! soon enough this whole hell-hole of a neighbourhood will be taken over by the bang corporation, and you’ll all have to grow up and move out!”
leehan frowns at the sergeants words, but taesan just rolls his eyes and swats at his finger, "you gotta stop walking around with a stick up your ass, kim."
the tigers remaining around their leader burst into laughter, and the sergeant goes red in the face.
"reckless rugrats, you’ll learn your lesson soon enough!”
he throws down those words and turns on his heel, using his baton to swipe at taunting tiger members and blowing his whistle to clear a way towards his car parked at the end of the street.
"they're tearing the neighbourhood down?” leehan turns to taesan, worry laced in his voice.
"man, who the hell cares - that’s a problem for the future! besides, they’ve been saying that for years, and they still haven’t gotten us,” taesan slings an arm around leehan and raises his voice so the rest of the members can hear him.
"there's a dance next week, at the school hall! the magpies are gonna be there, and i expect each one of you to show up and show them who’s the real boss, alright?”
the members erupt into cheer and taesan starts herding leehan away with a self-satisfied grin.
"you’ll be there, right?” taesan slaps leehan on the chest with his free hand and leehan chokes, "with minju?”
"sure,” leehan manages to mumble, "i'll bring my dancing shoes.”
leehan hears the band from a mile away, playing some kind of rock music leehan’s sure taesan loves and can sing his heart out to. there's a swarm of tigers already in front of them, dressed in their best orange garb, obviously, to show up the magpies, who were for sure donning their blues.
“i don't think i can stay on my feet much longer,” leehan registers minju groaning, and she winces every time she puts pressure on her left foot.
he offers an arm to her and she grabs it.
“thank you,” she sighs, “guess no dancing for me tonight. i've been standing at the clinic all day, i don't think i've taken a seat for at least ten hours.”
leehan offers her a sympathetic frown, “there’s probably seats when we get in.”
“ugh, let’s pray,” her hold on his arm tightens, “i think i picked the wrong shoes for tonight! i wanted to look cute, but they’re a pain to walk in!”
leehan is thankful he decided to wear his broken-in dancing shoes.
the crowd finally moves enough for leehan and minju to be blasted in the face with the air conditioning of the hall when they push open the doors together. in the corner he can see taesan and someone else - probably sungho, doing what can only be described as an interpretive freestyle dance to the beat of the music.
“look, chairs!” minju tugs on his arm, away from taesan and further back into the hall. she sighs as she sinks into a plush chair, finally relieved of the pressure on her feet.
“come, sit,” she pats the seat next to her.
leehan perches on the seat next to her, eyes darting around the hall. they're seated on the side with the tigers, but opposite of them he can see the magpies entering in droves, their blues mimicking an ocean, moving as one unit, swaying back and forth in time to the music. taesan and sungho have rotated to the front of the tigers, taunting the magpies with more coordinated dance moves this time. leehan can see wonbin - the leader of the magpies, push through the crowd, a hand dragging minjeong out from behind him.
leehan hears the music surge as they dance, the magpies and tigers each with their own steps, the line down the middle clearly drawn as they avoid bumping into each other.
that is, until wonbin nudges into taesan’s shoulder.
“okay, wonbin,” taesan spins on his heels, “you wanna dance with me or something?”
“by the looks of it, it seems like you’re desperate to dance with me,” wonbin smirks, and one of the tigers snarls, crossing into the space of the magpies. they react on instinct, pushing back as more tigers swarm forward. the music stops abruptly and leehan hears the piercing sound of sergeant kim’s whistle as he pushes the two groups away from each other, his lieutenant and a city official behind him, both almost crushed by teenage fury and pressing bodies.
“enough! enough!” the city official can barely be heard over the yells of the two groups, “everyone calm down! today is supposed to be a fun and relaxing night!”
the fight is finally broken up and the voices die down, the sergeant bellows, “we’re all here to dance! can you all go one second without beating up on each other?”
“exactly!”
the city official seems to have regained a semblance of his usual confidence and demeanour with the sergeant’s help, “tonight is all about brotherhood and friendship and all that! be nice to each other!”
a collective groan goes up around the room, and the city official balks before moving on quickly.
“so everyone, just for tonight, be friends. now, form two circles, girls on the inside, boys on the outside, facing each other.”
the official stands awkwardly in the center when nobody moves. that is, until taesan sighs and shrugs off his jacket, he gestures for the rest of the tigers to join him as he steps onto the dance floor. cheers and whoops erupt from the tigers side as they take their places, others following behind as well. leehan moves to join them (he didn’t put on his dancing shoes for nothing) but minju grabs his hand.
“maybe later?” she offers an apologetic smile, "i'm still a bit tired.”
leehan acquiescences, but he pulls his hand out of minju’s and elects to stay standing.
not to be outdone, wonbin and minjeong sweep onto the dance floor as well, leading the magpies. the official brightens up, and he indicates for the band to start playing music, which they do hesitantly.
“and when the music stops, boys and girls, you better dance with the person you’re standing next to!” the official says, back to his condescending tone.
the music draws to a natural end and leehan spots how taesan awkwardly stares down minjeong.
“okay, now dance!” the official waits, and the pregnant pause grows.
“this is stupid,” minjeong eventually breaks the silence, whipping away from taesan and pointing towards the band, “come on, turn the music up!”
the band is happy to oblige as the music starts up again, louder and more passionate. the official tries to speak over the guitar riffs and drum kicks but is eventually pushed out of the crowd as dancers trample over him, trying to get to their partners, each determined to outdance the others.
that’s the scene you open the doors to - dancing, hollering, and a flurry of blues and oranges.
“[y/n]!” you hear someone call you - but yizhuo catches you first before you can register who it is. she wraps an arm around you and shoves a cup of who-knows-what into your hands.
“[y/n]! i knew you’d come,” you finally see it’s wonbin, who abandons the dance floor to run up to you. minjeong’s eyes are bright as she squeezes your hand.
“you gotta come dance!” she raises her voice over the music.
“maybe later!” you yell back. you were still considering bolting before anyone important catches you.
minjeong flashes you a dazzling smile, "save a dance for me!”
wonbin and minjeong leave you, eager to get back to the dance floor again, while yizhuo has drifted off to talk to some other people, ever the social butterfly. you scan the crowd, sighing. you know you aren’t supposed to be here - you were supposed to leave the magpies in one go, cleanly and succinctly. you were supposed to move on, stop getting involved in this ugly world, and start a new life.
but something about the azure glint of the magpies always lure you back in.
you lurch backwards as people start clapping along to the music, the crowds of magpies forming in a line as they dance around the perimeter of the hall, rhinestones and sequins caught under the bright stage lights, glimmering like scales on a fish. everyone moves in tandem and in rhythm, weaving between each other in an elaborate choreography.
leehan is mesmerised by the scene - the music, the sound of shoes against the hardwood floor, the bass pumping through the speakers as the tempo changes. suddenly, he feels minju brush past him, and she hops on her foot as she pulls her heels off. he watches as she abandons them on the edge of the dance floor and throws herself into the thick of it, dancing with her hands in the air. a circle of tigers form around minju, leehan hears taesan yell a ‘get it girl!’ as the cheers grow louder.
minju catches his eye and beams, beckoning him into the crowd. leehan laughs and rushes in, several hands catching his arms as the tigers pull him into the dance, merging him with the rest of the group. somehow he gets shoved in front of minju and she grabs his hand. his body seems to fall into line quickly, steps light as if he has done this dance a thousand times before.
you’re unamused. one of the school teachers had snatched your cup away because she was sure you were drinking alcohol, and you’re stoutly aware of sergeant kim's sharp eye on you because he recognises you from your magpie days. as he inches closer, you inch further away, until you eventually find yourself pushing the door out into the hallway, the golden light of the hall spills out into the unlit hallway, and you find yourself gulping down mouthfuls of air. the music is faint in the background, and you resign yourself to the shadows cast by the moon.
the music dies down and leehan pants, out of breath. he’s overheard one of the tigers talk about the ‘sick water feature with fish outside’, and despite how much he likes dancing he can’t ignore the temptation of that. he elects to go check that out instead - pushing his way out of the dance circle and slipping out the front doors of the hall.
the hallway’s empty, but the slices of moonlight cutting in through the window lets him see well enough. the blue glow of the fish tank beckons him, and he is drawn towards it like prey to an anglerfish’s glow. he presses his face to the tank, watching the tropical fish lazily swim - he thinks they look like the dancers, weaving in and out of the coral just like the humans inside.
“wah, this one is so pretty,” he says out loud, to himself, eyes following a rummy nose tetra.
you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden noise. slowly turning your head, you let yourself relax. it's just a guy who’s hunched over and glued to the other side of the fish tank, following the fish with his eyes. you can’t see him properly through the glass and coral in the way, but you’re still amused by his sudden cute outburst. you step closer to the tank and lean down to see his face and your breath catches in your throat.
there was no words to describe what you just felt - like you just ran a million marathons? like the world stopped spinning for a few seconds? like an electric shock running through you?
you used to think love at first sight was a silly trope - something that could never happen, but look at you now - unable to tear yourself away from a blonde man in a simple white t-shirt and jeans - but something about him tethers you to him, like a charm to a magnet, or an apple to gravity.
you shake your head and squint at the fish he just called pretty - it looks like every other fish in the tank, except for a red nose. you step closer. that one’s red and that one’s blue. oh look, that one looks like nemo: orange and black and -
leehan lets his gaze follow the wandering clownfish, and gasps out loud when he sees another pair of eyes on the other side of the tank. he pulls himself away and you straighten up, trying your best to repress a smile as he blinks wildly at you.
“is that one pretty?” you point to the clownfish and leehan’s cheeks blush red when he realises you’ve overheard his comment.
“it’s - it’s cute,” he mumbles.
“hmm, i like that one,” you point at an unassuming gray one swimming idly at the bottom. it reminded you of yourself.
to your surprise, the guy immediately whips his head up at you - and even through the fish tank glass you can see how wide and bright his eyes are, the moon reflecting in his irises.
“do you like fish?” he rushes out.
“not really?” you tilt your head, “but there’s nothing to not like about them.”
he nods quickly.
“it’s a corydoras,” he explains, “they’re my favourite type of fish.”
“that’s great,” you weren’t sure how to respond. the only fish you could name was nemo - and salmon in edible form.
“they’re gentle, cute, and beautiful,” you watch his eyes curl into crescent moons, “in greek, cory means armour, and doras means skin, so their heads are hard too. isn’t that cool?”
you’ve seen people get excited over worse things.
“how about that one? it’s cute when it shakes its butt,” you point to another one.
“oh, that’s a pearlscale. it moves like that because its belly is fat and their fins are really huge,” he mimics the fish and you bite back a laugh, “when you feed them, they’ll swim over the same way. they’re really cute.”
“sorry, i’m talking a lot,” he looks up to blink at you through the water, and double takes - he’s been so engrossed in his fish that he hasn’t even looked at you once.
the moon frames your face like a halo. your gaze seems to transfix him, paralysing him. you watch as he gulps harshly and straightens up a little. you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.
"it’s okay,” and she tolerates his fish facts.
“um, uh,” he stutters. you smile at him and leehan thinks it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever set his eyes on.
his feet start to move on their own, and you mirror him as he walks away from the tank - but his gaze never leaves yours - it’s steady, unwavering, undisturbed by the fish that darts across your path.
you lose sight of him as he disappears behind the pillar, and for a moment you hesitate, staring into the shadows. you felt like a kid again, always uncertain of what is just around the corner.
but then he appears, in his blonde hair and white t-shirt and worn out jeans. he pauses for a moment too, before he breaches, moving forward towards you, slowly, as if approaching a flighty rabbit.
leehan swears you’re an angel. he experiences an out-of-body experience and can only describe his elation as feeling like he has been transported onto another planet. he’s sure that, if you were to listen his heartbeat, it would be in time with your’s. leehan always believed in soulmates or love at first sight, and that is the label he puts on the feeling of the tug between you two, pulling him towards you. when he lost sight of you it felt like he was dragged underwater, and the pressure pressing on his head was so bad he couldn’t do anything but surge up to you when he spotted you waiting for him behind the pillar, just so he could breathe again.
you hear the band inside start on a slow ballad, and you take a step forward. he holds out a hand shyly.
you stare at it - and you wonder if you wait a moment too long if he’ll retract it, but he doesn’t, and when your fingers finally touch his he pulls you into a twirl. you were never a fan of dancing, but he leads you so confidently that you forget all about how your limbs don’t work in tandem with each other and - for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about stepping onto your partner’s toes, instead, you’re lost in his eyes - brown, warm and sparkling as if dusted with a thousand stars. he’s the only thing you can see. you two dance in perfect rhythm, as if you’ve been dancing together for years.
he twirls you again as the last bar of the song fades out, and you let out a laugh when he bows, your hand still in his.
“so, you’re not a fan of dancing?” he finally speaks, voice low and unlike the one he used with the fish. it runs through your body like a nerve, lighting you up from the inside and making your stomach squeeze.
“no - i mean, yes,” you cough through the sentence, “which means - i liked dancing with you.”
he beams at you, and you watch as his eyes crinkle into that crescent moon shape again. he shuffles into your space and you back up until your back hits the pillar. he leans forward, a hand coming to push his hair out of his face as the other settles on the wall behind you, supporting his weight.
“wow, you’re small,” he says, a stupid smile still hanging off his face.
“and you’re not,” you let out a laugh.
“and you’re not a tiger…” his eyes take you in, zoning in on the tattoo on your shoulder.
“you’re now just figuring that out?” you give him a cheeky grin. you’re still dressed in magpies’ blues - you figured you wanted to blend in more than stand out.
“is that okay?” you say, tilting your head, “that i’m not a tiger?”
you blink at him innocently, and he gulps as his breathing quickens. you try not to stare too much at the way his adam’s apple rolls.
“i don’t know,” he breathes out, “i’ve never done this before. is this okay?”
he inches closer, his eyes darting down to your lips. you smirk, leaning in, as in egging him on.
“i don’t know, why don’t we find out?” your breath fans across his lips, and before you can react he pushes forward, capturing your lips with his. your knees buckle at the way he basically throws himself at you and his hands grab your waist.
“ooh, impatient,” you laugh when you break away, “you caught me by surprise.”
leehan smiles sheepishly, releasing you, “sorry.”
“don’t worry,” you pull him in closer by the collar of his shirt and stand on your tiptoes, your voice low and sultry, “i’ll let you try again.”
this time he approaches slower, and your breaths mix as his eyes stare into your’s - you swear you can drown in them - deep molasses and swimming with emotion. his lips finally touch your’s and his hands come up to hold your arm, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. you close your eyes and sigh into the kiss.
“oh my god, leehan! what are you doing?” someone whispers-yells, and leehan breaks away from the kiss, looking over your shoulder around the pillar.
“woonhak?” you hear him mumble before he registers the sight in front of him - “woonhak! wait!”
but woonhak has already ran back into the hall and ‘whispered’ (loud enough for anyone within a 10 meter radius to hear): “leehan hyung is locking lips with a magpie!”
oh shit, you pull yourself out of leehan’s embrace to start towards the exit, but it’s too late. taesan has the hearing of a cat and moves with conviction, storming out of the hall and yanking leehan to his side as he glares at you. you continue to back up as more people gather at the entrance, on their tiptoes trying to catch a glimpse at you.
you hear minjeong yell over the crowd, “what’s happening out there?”
she pushes through the crowd and when she spots you her eyes widen. she immediately grabs you by the arm, wonbin close behind as he stands at the front. she pulls you behind her as more magpies follow, each assuming a stance that screamed - ‘i’m ready to fight’.
“are you okay?” yizhuo squeezes your hand.
“i’m fine,” you say loud enough for everyone to hear, and you look pointedly at leehan.
"we’re fine,” leehan affirms. but taesan growls anyways.
"that’s my brother you’re fucking with,” he cracks his knuckles, "i turned the other cheek you when you stabbed one of our people, and i forgave you when you stole our laptop and dumped it in the river, but you know what? i’m done forgiving you.”
you flare up - you wanted to yell about how you’ve changed and that person wasn’t you anymore. but why would taesan care anyways? to him, you were just another magpie. even after you’ve left, you’re still a magpie. a magpie who was swapping spit with his little brother, nevertheless.
wonbin scoffs, "those should be my fucking lines.”
“wonbin,” minjeong warns under her breath, “not here.”
her eyes dart to the sergeant, who looked ready to pounce onto anyone who swung a fist and send everyone straight to jail.
taesan must’ve sensed it too, “bathroom. let’s talk.”
he looked squarely at wonbin, “and make sure your friend comes along too.”
murmurs pop up around you as tensions grow. leehan pulls taesan back.
"it’s not that serious, why are you escalating - ”
"it’s not that serious?” taesan whirls to meet leehan’s eyes, voice full of disbelief, "you were kissing a magpie, leehan. you could be kissing literally any other girl and i wouldn’t have given a single fuck, but you kissed a magpie.”
"i don’t understand,” leehan’s voice rises in frustration and sungho pulls him away from taesan, "there’s nothing wrong with her!”
"not now, leehan,” sungho warns under his breath, and leehan’s hands curls into fists.
"minju, sungho, can you take him back?” taesan turns, and minju looks startled.
"o-oh, sure.”
minju beckons to leehan as if she was guiding one of the patients at the clinic. when leehan doesn’t move a muscle, sungho shoves him forward and leehan can’t find it in himself to protest, his entire posture deflated and a frown prominent on his face. you watch as they leave, leehan’s feet dragging as minju takes his arm and pulls him away.
the crowd disperses as he brushes past you, head downcast and staring at the floor. you watch as they take him away.
“you’re so fucking done for,” wonbin mutters under his breath, gritting his teeth, “come on. toilet.”
but you’re too distracted looking after leehan’s disappearing figure, “yeah - just give me a moment.”
all you can think about is leehan - the feeling of your hand in his, his lips against yours, the colour of his eyes, and his gentle voice.
“[y/n], the toilet.”
wonbin sighs, hands on his hips as he turns around to look at you, but you’re gone, running out the doors after leehan.
“what the hell? where’s she gone off to?”
yizhuo shrugs innocently - “i tried to grab her but she ran too fast.”
leehan throws himself onto the bed. sungho tries to talk to him, but he just covers his ears and whines and throws a tantrum. sungho eventually just gives up and leaves the room, shutting the door.
leehan flips to stare at the ceiling, and he touches his lips in disbelief. he just kissed you, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his life.
the thought makes him disgustingly giddy and he squirms in his bed, burying his face into his pillow.
he’s in love, and she loves him back. she didn’t even care that he knows a disturbing amount about aquatic animals.
if not for the stupid blood feud, you two would probably be walking down the streets together right now, hand in hand, sharing a cone of ice cream and talking about shared dreams.
leehan squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. he doesn’t care about what taesan has to say anymore, he just wants to see you again, feel your skin under his, kiss you again.
he was going to give that little shit woonhak a piece of his mind.
"leehan!” he hears taesan yell as he pounds on the door to his room, "come out here!”
leehan doesn’t respond in rebellion, pressing his mouth into a tight line. taesan’s knocks die down as sungho sighs from beyond the door and tells taesan to forget it, he’ll come out eventually. their footsteps eventually fade from the door, and tears prick at leehan’s eyes.
tonight, he saw you, and he found himself entranced. the feeling of you holding his hand was electric, and, if he was being honest, he didn’t even register half of what you said. he just stared at your lips and wondered what it would feel like to kiss you. and when he finally did it felt magical, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.
you stumble into the tiger’s neighbourhood, the walls painted in stripes of orange and white and the floor muddied with puddles. you look around desperately, as if leehan would magically appear on one of the balconies and wave to you.
you take a deep breath in, “leehan?”
you yell at the buildings - no response but the irritated yell of a grandma, who shakes a fist at you and slams her balcony door shut.
you carry on deeper into the sprawling labyrinth of buildings, the paint growing older and more faded as you climb over barbed fences and locked gates.
“god… leehan!” you try again. this time a young girl yells at you to shut up and you zip your mouth shut and you mutter about the children these days.
“leehan! where are you?” you yell down an alleyway. you see the light at the end of the alley switch on and you dart before another person berates you.
eventually, you hit a dead end. you call out his name hopefully, and it echoes off the walls as if it’s mocking you. dead silence replies.
you sigh, hands raw from how many wires had cut into your skin. you make one final lunge up, grabbing the wires criss-crossed across the gate to pull yourself up and -
“shhh!” you’re just about to flip over the fence when you hear him.
“leehan?” you nearly fall off the gate in the hurry you are to turn around.
“you’re being too loud!” he chimes, shutting the window behind him gently.
he leans over the railing to look at you, the apples of his cheeks were dusted bright red - you weren’t sure if it was because of the chilly air, but you like to think it’s because he’s taken by your dedication in locating him.
“i just wanted to see you,” your ears burn at his reality check, “come down!”
“i can’t,” he pouts, “my brother and his friends are home.”
“then i’ll come up to you.”
you pull off your jacket and survey the fire escape - the lowest stairs are neatly folded up, so you can’t take the normal route.
“what? are you crazy?” he whispers as his eyes follow your figure worriedly.
“i’m crazy for you,” you say in mock seriousness, and he giggles but hangs over the railing, eyes following your every move.
“i’ll be fine, done this plenty of times before,” you push yourself onto the lid of a dumpster and manage to grab onto the bottom of the first platform, swinging yourself up and over the railings.
your shoes against the metal makes loud noises, and leehan glances back into his room. he should draw the curtains together tighter. by the time he’s stepped back out into the cold air, you’re under his fire escape.
“hey,” you smile at him from between the grating.
“hi,” he replies, dropping to his knees.
you push on the hatch door, “it’s locked.”
“yeah,” leehan smiles awkwardly, “we lost the key.”
“that’s not safe, how are you supposed to escape a fire?” you frown, and leehan shrugs.
“i don’t even know your name,” he says slowly.
“it’s [y/n],” you push your fingers through the grating.
“[y/n],” he says slowly, as if savouring your name on his tongue.
“[y/n],” he repeats more firmly, his fingers intertwining with yours through the wire.
“it was nice meeting you tonight.”
“i’m sorry i got you into trouble,” he mumble, eyes full of regret.
you shake your head, “it’s nothing. i’m used to trouble.”
leehan pauses, “my brother will never let us be together.”
“i don’t know,” you pause, “i’ve been told i’m very charming, charming enough to make a cute guy kiss me after talking to him once.”
leehan lets out a soft laugh.
“i saw you, and it was like the world went away,” he whispers, eyes fixed on your’s, “i couldn’t think straight. i think we’re destined to be together, like, written in the stars together.”
“i can’t believe you’re starting to make me believe in stuff like that, too,” you let go of his hands as you step backwards, “i want to see you properly.”
leehan straightens up in anxiety as you swing yourself out over the road, feet planted on the stairs. you bump your nose onto the side of the stairs and leehan feels his breath catch in his throat.
“be careful!” his voice is laced with panic.
you grab onto the railing of leehan’s platform and push yourself up by catching your foot in the jutted out frame. leehan’s arms rush to grab yours and he pulls you on top of him with all of his strength, letting out a soft ‘oof!’ as he tumbles and lands on his back.
“see,” you grin at him, “told you i’ll be okay.”
he looks up at you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a more gorgeous sight, the stars reflected in his eyes and his hair falling loosely around his face. you take in his face - no long obscured by shadows or cut through grating. he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, and you have to resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks. you settle for placing a hand awkwardly on his cheek and he shoves his face into your palm like a puppy asking for pets.
“when can i see you again?” he whispers desperately.
“tomorrow” you sit up and he follows, propping himself up with a hand, “tomorrow. meet me tomorrow. and we’ll spend time together.”
leehan’s eyes sparkle, “okay.”
you let yourself smile, “you’re too easy.”
he shakes his head, “just for you.”
“i don’t know how i lived all these years without you,” he starts honestly, “but now that i have you, i don’t think i can anymore.”
his other hand slowly traces patterns into your spine.
“okay. then meet me at jiwon’s shop, you know it?”
he nods eagerly, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips.
“can i kiss you?” he asks, tentatively.
you respond by pressing your lips onto his, and he pulls you in against his chest. heart to heart - you slot perfectly into one another.
“leehan! are you alive?”
you break away, and leehan’s face strains towards you, chasing your lips with a pout.
“i’m alive!” he yells back at taesan, voice full of exasperation.
you laugh, and he turns back to look at you.
“tomorrow,” he says.
you climb off him and give him a look - full of yearning and love, “tomorrow,” you promise.
you turn to make your way down to the ground, but leehan’s hand shoots out to grab your wrist and he pulls to turn you around.
“goodnight,” he says, his voice full of saccharine longing. he presses a kiss to your forehead before giggling.
“goodnight,” you can’t seem to stop smiling around him.
leehan wakes up smiling.
he throws his sheets off and jumps out of bed - he’s going to see you soon, and he can’t wait. for once he welcomes the sunlight that disturbed him from his sleep.
he’s still smiling when he yanks open the door to his room to sungho boiling soup on the stove.
“good morning,” he chirps brightly.
“it’s too early for you to be so chipper,” taesan raises an eyebrow from his place on the dining table and leehan realises he should probably not be enthusiastic and elated - all taesan assumes is that leehan has been crying his eyes out for last night because he couldn’t dance with the love of his life.
leehan tries his best to pull the corners of his lips down.
“i didn’t forget the little stunt you pulled last night,” taesan points a fork at leehan, “dancing with a magpie girl.”
“i didn’t know she was a magpie,” leehan lied, but sungho snorts.
“don’t you have something to say to leehan, taesanie?” sungho places a bowl of soup onto the table.
taesan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “look, i apologise for my behaviour last night.”
leehan frowns, “it was really embarrassing.”
leehan’s posture slumps, “i can dance with anyone i like, with or without your approval.”
“as long as she’s a tiger,” taesan adds sagely.
“[y/n]’s a nice girl!”
“[y/n]? dear god, you’re on a first name basis now!”
taesan grabs leehan’s head and pulls him down to his eye level, forcing him to look dead straight into his eyes, “i want you to be happy, leehan.”
“i was happy,” leehan says in frustration, pulling taesan’s hands off him, “until you ruined it.”
taesan’s mouth sets into a thin, hard line, “you won’t see her again, leehan.”
leehan feels anger rise up inside of him, “i’m not afraid of you. and i’m never, ever, going to let you tell me what i can and can’t do.”
“stop it, you two,” sungho slams a bowl of rice onto the table, the silverware jumping up and landing with a crash.
“don’t you realise your actions have consequences? now there’s another fight and -” sungho cuts himself off with a sigh.
“what fight?” leehan feels his blood run cold.
“don’t worry about it,” taesan mutters.
“why are you trying to keep stuff from me?”
“i said, don’t worry about it,” taesan says, but it sounded like a warning, telling him not to prod.
“fine! there’s a fight with the magpies, two days from now. and i’m going to beat the shit out of them. happy?” taesan explodes, slamming his hand onto the table.
a silence falls over the room, and leehan backs up slowly.
“i don’t get you guys. you think every problem can be fixed with fists and violence,” he whispers, “all i did was dance with her.”
“well, maybe if you weren’t an idiot then shit like this wouldn’t happen!” taesan yells, throwing his hands into the air.
hurt flashes across leehan’s face and he slams the door to his room behind him.
sungho sighs.
“i don’t understand,” taesan pulls on his hair, “why doesn’t he get it?”
“love and hate are two sides of the same. it makes people do stupid things,” sungho shrugs, grabbing leehan’s bowl of rice for himself and settling on the couch, “you can’t stop a man who’s in love, just like how you can’t stop a man who’s hatred drives his mind.”
“and how do i say ‘i love you’ in satoori?”
you click your pen in anxiety, and jiwon chews on a piece of licorice, unamused.
“it’s i love you,” she takes another bite as you repeat the pronounciation clumsily back at her, when she doesn’t give you an audible sound of disapproval, you write it down into your notebook.
“okay, how about ‘i like your smile’?”
“i like your smile,” jiwon replies in the accent.
you frown, when you try it, it sounds wrong and heavy on your tongue.
“no, you’re supposed to say it like this,” jiwon repeats the pronounciation and you finally get it, scribbling it down.
“okay, last one, what about ‘i want to spend forever with you’?”
jiwon raises an eyebrow at you, “don’t you think you should start with ‘we should go get a cup of coffee’ or ‘let’s hang out as a date’ before jumping straight to spending forever with them?”
“i don’t have time for that, jiwon,” you pout, “i already broke my parole rules for him.”
“ohhh, right,” jiwon clicks her tongue, “i thought i told you to be good.”
“you don’t understand, jiwon. he’s - he’s special. i thought i knew love before but i clearly didn’t. please, jiwon?”
she regards with you an unreadable gaze before sighing - “i want to spend forever with you.”
“i want to spend forever with you.”
you look at her hopefully and she lets a pause drift through before nodding her head, “you’re good.”
“okay, okay. thanks.” you shove your notebook and pen into your bag just as the bell hanging above the door jingles. leehan appears, as handsome as ever, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. he surveys the shop with a cold stare until his eyes lands on you, and he immediately brightens up, grin jumping onto his face as he walks towards you.
“leehan!” you spring up from your stool.
“is it okay if i steal her for a few hours?” leehan smiles brightly at jiwon and she sighs, shooing the two of you away.
“just go. ugh, two teenagers in love, the worst kind.”
leehan grabs your hand and you mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to jiwon, who reluctantly returns a smile.
“where are we going?” your hand is warm in leehan’s hold and the rest of you burns with a feverish frivolity.
“have you ever been to an aquarium?” leehan squeezes your hand as the two of you wait for the bus.
“nope,” you shake your head.
a smile splits over his face, “you’re gonna love it.”
you didn’t care much for fish, but you care a lot about leehan, so you nod - “can’t wait.”
the two of you cough at the same time when a bus leaves the station, throwing dust up into the air. his eyes turn up in mirth at your synchronicity and he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
"do you know about the fight?” leehan suddenly says, retracting his hand and shoving your intertwined palms into the pocket of his jacket as the air suddenly gets chilly.
"huh?” you say stupidly, your tongue heavy in your mouth.
"the magpies and the tigers - in two days,” leehan looks at anywhere but you, "they’re gonna fight.”
"oh,” you reply simply.
"you have to stop them,” leehan rushes out, "tell wonbin to call off the fight.”
"i - i can’t. besides, taesan started it, so you tell him.”
"i can’t do anything.” leehan shakes his head, "he’s too angry.”
"wonbin’s angry too,” you tug on the hem of your shirt, "wonbin’s always angry.”
you try to look him in the eye, but he avoids you.
"they say magpies are born angry,” you say slowly, "left on the streets to die, and to fight for ourselves. the whole world has always been against us - the whole world expects us to fail, to die some nameless street urchin. at least you still have a family - taesan’s your brother. we have no one but ourselves because a guy might turn on you the moment he sees an opportunity.”
"it’s not easy for us, too. you have to try,” leehan insists, "they’re fighting because of us. it’s our fault - we have to do something. if someone gets hurt because of what we do -”
"what did we do, leehan?” you interrupt him.
leehan quiets, "nothing. we did nothing.”
"exactly,” you sigh.
"but still, i just don’t want anyone to get hurt… anyone, from the magpies or the tigers. i hate it - all the fighting.”
you take a deep breath in. the magpies and tigers were always fighting - its the only way they know how to interact with each other. words traded for punches, and talks traded for fights. that’s the world you left behind - because you realised it wasn’t worth it, the pain, the sadness, the constant living on eggshells, and never-ending, simmering anger and hate beneath it all.
"i’ll talk to him,” you finally say.
"thank you,” leehan whispers, finally looking at you, "i’m sorry for scaring you.”
he squeezes your hand inside his jacket.
you drift behind leehan as he points out various fish to you, your hands still intertwined.
"and that one’s a lemon shark, they have yellowish skin, hence the name. they’re like the puppies of the sea, they’re super playful,” he points to the shark floating above your heads.
"don’t they eat people?”
"well, actually - ” he starts, and you listen to him ramble as you study his profile - trying to commit everything to memory. his hand is warm in yours, and his bracelets press against yours gently every time he moves his arms around to point at another fish.
"you’re staring,” leehan abruptly stops, "am i boring you?”
you laugh at his pout, "no, of course not.”
you tug him over to the tropical fish exhibit and hum.
"that one’s a corydoras, right?” you finally locate it, swimming carefreely at the floor of the tank.
"yeah, it is,” leehan stares at you, "you remembered.”
"you said it was your favourite fish,” you mumbled, suddenly shy under his stare.
"it is,” he smiles at you, clearly delighted just by the fact you remembered.
he crouches down to observe various fish darting in and out of leaves and coral.
"this one, this one,” he tugs on your hand urgently and you crouch down next to him, "i think you’re like them.”
he points to a pair of cream-coloured fish, and you watch as they swim and dump a mouthful of sand onto a few shells.
"they’re shell-dwellers,” he explains, "right now, they’re trying to bury their shells and rearrange their territories. they live in their shell homes all the time. i think these are ocellatus - they fight all the time and like to rule over lots of shells.”
you watch as the fish begin to bicker with each other right after his words, arguing over a shell.
"my shell, back off,” leehan says in a deep and goofy voice as one of the shell-dwellers peek out from their shell. he watches for your reaction and his eyes soften when you laugh.
"if you were a fish, i’d let you into my shell,” you joke.
"mmm, no, i don’t think you would,” leehan cocks his head as he replies seriously, "shell-dwellers tend to get quite territorial, you usually don’t keep them with the other fish.”
you let out a humourless scoff, "okay, then don’t come into my shell.”
you shift away from him and leehan’s eyes widen.
"wait, no, no! i’d be honoured to be invited to explore your shell,” he wraps an arm around you and the two of you dissolve into giggles.
the music in the gift store loops for the seventh time - not that you were counting. you watch as leehan picks over postcards, paperweights, and keychains. you point out the ones you like and you laugh when leehan’s imitates their swimming to you, and let out a fond smile when leehan complains about how the aquarium used to have cooler stuff, but now it’s just ugly stock images of fish.
"here, these are for you. hold out your hands,” leehan suddenly speaks.
you obediently turn your palms up and leehan hands you two rubber ducks facing each other.
"i don’t have wooden ducks, so i hope rubber ones are okay,” he mumbles shyly, his face flushed bright red. you look closely at the ducks - ones wearing a jacket not dissimilar to the one you’re wearing now, and the other has a tophat on.
you laugh and wrap your arms around him, ducks still clutched in your hands, "they’re perfect.”
leehan lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, "okay. good.”
"getting married in an aquarium, huh?” you pull back, teasing him.
"i was hoping more for something like the jellyfish exhibit or the coral one. the gift store's not very romantic,” he pouts, "and i’m too poor to even buy the rubber ducks, actually.”
"i’m poorer,” you retort quickly.
"i hope you still like me,” leehan says quietly.
"i don’t just like you, leehan,” you smile at him knowingly, "i love you.”
leehan blinks at you in shock and gulps down a mouthful of air, "uh.”
you cough awkwardly, "it means i lo -”
"i know what it means,” he interrupts.
"i love you too,” he adds on, voice raw.
"um,” you rack your brain for the other terms that you forced jiwon to teach you, "and - and i want to be with you forever.”
leehan’s eyes widen before they crinkle up, "then i’ll devote myself to you wholly.”
"repeat that?” you frown.
he answers you with a kiss instead.
he presses into you until you feel like you’re losing air, and when you gasp he deepens it, pulling you flush against his chest. the shelf of whale memorabilia digs uncomfortably into your spine but you can’t think about that right now. leehan’s hand cups your jaw as he angles his head, his leg pressing into between your’s. your brain turns to mush and all you can think about is him - the heat between your bodies, the feeling of his hand against your face, and sound that resonates from deep within him when you suck on his bottom lip.
you’re breathing heavily when he finally pulls away, flush in the face and pupils blown wide. you think shrewdly that you’re probably the first couple that’s made out in an aquarium gift shop.
“spend the night with me?” you ask, placing your arms on his shoulders and tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.
leehan chokes on his own spit, reverting back to the look of a shy schoolgirl like you two weren’t just kissing behind a shelf of starfish corpses mere moments ago - “i - i’ve never done that kind of stuff before.”
you knock on his forehead affectionately, “not that, leehan. just to hang out,” you raise an eyebrow, “unless you wanna…?”
“n - no!” leehan splutters, blush growing deeper. you laugh and he buries his face into the crook of your neck in embarrassment.
“you’re so cute,” you pinch his arm and he sulks.
despite your earlier teasing, you’re so nervous your hands shake as you try to jab your keys in the lock. once, twice - leehan lets out a soft laugh as you finally get it in on your third try.
“it’s kinda small. and it’s really messy. sorry,” you rush out as the door to your dinky apartment swings open, nearly falling off its hinges.
“it’s cute,” leehan says, even though your light overhead blinks slowly to life and the only form of entertainment you have is observing the cracks in the ceiling. your bed doubles as your sofa and your closet, and the floor is but a wasteland of clothes, books, and cans of food stacked as neatly as you can before they inevitably fall over because you ran into them when the electricity goes out and you can’t see anything.
"sorry,” you mumble again, pushing a pile of clothes off the bed, "you can sit here!”
you step over your various piles of - stuff, towards the fridge, leehan shuffling in behind you.
"do you want anything? soda? water?” you rummage through your fridge as you call out.
no reply, and you look up to check on leehan, who you find has situated himself on your blankets and is currently concentrating on folding up the clothes you dumped unceremoniously on the floor just a moment ago.
you laugh and grab a bottle of water. you leap over your piles of clothes and nearly careen into him.
"you’re focused,” you reach out a hand to ruffle his hair when you’ve regained your balance.
"you should fold your clothes,” he pouts, setting a shirt neatly on the pile, "and make your bed.”
you flounce down onto the mattress - "i’m gonna sleep on it at night anyways, so what’s the point?”
leehan just frowns in response as he digs in your pile of clothes to find the other sock missing from your pair.
"okay, okay. i promise i will. and i always keep my promises.”
you wrap your arms around his waist and set your chin on his shoulder, watching him smooth out the wrinkles in your clothing.
"well, if you really don’t want to do it, i’ll do it for you,” he mumbles, and you see the tip of his ears turn red.
you laugh and squish his cheek in a moment of weakness.
"thank you,” you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and you watch as it immediately quirks up in mirth.
“kiss me properly,” he whines, abandoning his folding mission as he turns to pull you in, a hand on your cheek as he dives in. you feel him smile into the kiss and you smile too, and the two of you end up giggling in each other’s arms.
"what should we do?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours when you finally run out of breath to laugh, "there’s an ache in my bones that screams i want to be with you.”
"run away with me,” you blurt out before you can think, "let’s run away to some place where we can be together.”
you expected hesitance, protest, pushback - but leehan stares deep into your soul and lets out a simple - "okay.”
"are you sure?” you say, pulling away, "i have nothing but you, leehan. but you still have a family.”
"[y/n],” his eyes are bright with love, "i’ve never wanted anything more than to be with you.”
"it’s not going to be easy,” you warn.
leehan thinks about easy - going back to taesan, saying he’s sorry; eating sungho’s cooking every morning; dance parties and booze with the tigers; doing whatever taesan tells him to do - like staying away from fights and dating minju.
he shakes his head, "i can do easy with anyone,” he grabs your hand, "but i wanna be with you, even if that means struggling with you, failing with you. even if the world was ending tomorrow, i hope my last breath is with you, too.”
you giggle at his sincere confession, "you’re such a romantic.”
"only for you,” he pouts, "promise.”
"okay,” you breathe out, placing your hand over his, "tomorrow night, we’ll leave this town behind.”
leehan turns his hand palm up to intertwine his fingers with yours, and he just stares at it. for a moment you’ve thought you’ve lost but him but then he pounces on you, nuzzling into your neck and pushing you back until you lie down on the bed. he traps you under his weight and you end up carding your free hand through his hair.
“ouch! hannie?” you gasp when he suddenly bites the tattoo on your shoulder.
“i wish you were never a magpie, and i wish i wasn’t taesan’s brother,” he mumbles into your skin, an arm encircling around you protectively, “then we could be together and nobody would care.”
you stare up at the ceiling, “me too. i wish wonbin never saw me that day - then i wouldn’t be a magpie, and i would have never went to prison. and maybe you could’ve met a me that’s good.”
leehan shakes his head, his blonde hair tickling against your cheek, “you’re good already, [y/n]. you left, didn't you?”
“better late than never,” you sigh, pushing his hair up and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
you linger there for a moment before leehan speaks again - “i want to stay like this forever.”
he shuffles deeper into your hold, as if trying to bury himself within your skin.
“there’s a long time for us,” you promise, “i’ll be with you til the day i die.”
you jump to intercept wonbin’s path and he jumps up, startled like a cat.
"why, why, why,” you snatch the revolver from wonbin, "why on earth do you have a gun?”
wonbin snarls, "give it back to me, [y/n]! i bought it!”
but he’s reminded of why you’re the one who led the magpies when you easily dance out of his way.
he swipes at you but you dodge. he lunges at you but you step side so easily it makes him irritated. he jumps at you but one simple push from you sends him stumbling into the corner.
but wonbin’s no slouch either. he’s grown over these past two years. at some point, after a particular hard shove from him, you tumble to the ground, bringing wonbin down with you as you wrap your legs around his. wonbin wrestles the gun from your hands and manages to break it free, shooting to his feet and pointing the barrel between your eyes. the cold metal presses and sears into your skin.
"shoot me,” you spit, "since that’s the only thing you’re good for - fighting.”
wonbin’s hands tremble, "you’re a coward, [y/n]. running away from a fight.”
"i have things that are precious to me now,” you push wonbin and the gun off of you without a care of retaliation, "something you’ll never understand.”
"no!” wonbin yells wildly, "i do understand! i have you - and the magpies! and all my friends!”
"we’re born of anger and connected by hatred, wonbin.”
you laugh humourlessly, "you’re bringing a gun to a fistfight, wonbin. can’t you see how ridiculous this is? all you have to do is call off the fight - step away, learn to be better. you don’t have to be perfect.”
wonbin growls and angrily kicks you in the stomach. you get the wind knocked out of you and you immediately curl up into a fetal position, clutching your stomach as pain radiates, "the rumble is at 6. the warehouse. taesan wants you to show.”
he says pointedly, before leaving you curled up in the dirt.
you don’t have to show up. you just have to wait until night time to meet leehan and then once and for all abandon everything from your old life and start anew.
but wonbin had a gun - and that meant someone was probably going to get shot tonight.
you grunt as you sit up.
"someone's in a happy mood,” leehan’s boss teases as she watches him flit around the store, humming a tune as he feeds all the fishes.
of course he is. tonight is the night. he gets to see the love of his life and they’ll run away together. and then he’ll be able to wake up to your face every morning, lay on the bank of the river together and count stars, and walk in the streets holding hands without fearing someone’s retaliation, and maybe you’ll even start a family. leehan flushes at the thought. maybe you’ll start with a dog first instead. he’s always wanted one.
he sighs happily as he watches a betta swim over for his food, “i met this girl, she’s amazing.”
he paused, “she’s different - different from everyone else. she listens to me talk without interrupting and she doesn’t care that i’m taesan’s little brother.”
“we’re just meant to be together, i think,” he snaps the feed jar shut, “when i’m with her, the earth is just a star, and she becomes my entire world.”
“i think you’re reading too many romance novels,” his boss chirps.
“maybe,” leehan watches the fish in the tank swim back and forth, “but i like the feeling of being with her. isn’t that enough?”
she studies his face - lovesick and giddy, and bites back her words. a kid should dream when he still can, untouched by the reality around him.
the real world isn’t like books. a love like that won’t survive. not when it’s built on aquariums and rubber ducks, not when it's threatened by blood feuds and fights. society doesn’t care that it’s just human, beautiful, and a light in a bleak world - because all they know is brutality and hating someone just because of the colours they wear.
you walk into a stand-off. everyone has armed themselves with a metal pipe or chains wrapped around their knuckles, because despite saying it was only going to be a fist fight, everyone thinks the worse of each other.
"oh, look who finally decided to show up,” taesan growls.
“[y/n]!” wonbin yells, “you’re here!”
a cheer goes up from the magpies but you shake your head, “i’m not here to fight.”
a resounding ‘huh?’ replies you instead, and sungchan shakes his head as he steps forward, “if you won’t fight, then i will.”
you grab sungchan before he lunges at taesan, and he yells a ‘what the hell man?’ when you shove him back into the magpie crowd.
“maybe she’s finally found the guts to fight her own fucking battles,” taesan hisses.
“i told you,” you turn around to face taesan, “i’m not here to fight. i don’t fight.”
“none of us should be fighting, none of us,” you hold out a hand to taesan in a plead, “don’t you think so?”
taesan stares at your hand before slapping it away and shoving you back, you don’t expect it and stumble backwards.
“[y/n]!” wonbin yells, grabbing you and shoving you behind him, “this is a fair fight between sungchan and taesan, let’s keep it that way.”
taesan scoffs and rolls his eyes, “so you’re gonna make someone fight your fights huh? fucking coward,” he spits in your direction.
“what did you say?” sungchan rounds on taesan and you barely manage to catch him again, throwing your arms around his figure and pushing him back.
“chicken, liar, coward,” taesan sing-songs.
“cut it!” wonbin yells, lunging at taesan himself.
“wonbin, no!” you shove sungchan off to the side and lunge for wonbin before he can do anything rash. he grumbles and shakes your arm off of him.
“i said, i don’t want to fight. we shouldn’t be doing this,” you plead, but taesan has always squared up and is fast approaching, fists darting out to tease you.
“listen to me! there’s nothing to fight about,” you try your best to move backwards, but wonbin stands in your way and taesan’s knuckles catches your jacket.
“you’re just too much of a coward!” taesan yells, his punches faster - harder.
“fight back!” you hear someone yell.
“get him!” numerous hands start pushing on your back towards taesan as you make no move to retaliate.
“stop it!” you shrug off the hands and whirl around, “none of you understand!”
taesan delivers a swift kick to the back of your knees and you buckle. years of muscle memory kick in as you recover quickly and move into a defensive stance, your hands up in fists in front of you. people start cheering as taesan stares you down.
“come on, [y/n]! get his ass!”
you feel a splitting headache oncoming, you didn’t want to fight - you weren’t here to fight.
your fists relax and taesan sees this as an admission of defeat.
“you go around doing crimes and shit, but turns out, you’re just a dog who only knows how to bark!”
taesan gets all up in your space as he grabs onto your collar and pulls on your hair, a clap to the side of your head has your ears ringing and head spinning, and it doesn’t help that taesan has delivered a swift punch to your side as well in your disorientation.
“[y/n], what the hell are you doing?” you register wonbin yell shrilly.
you manage to wrench yourself out of taesan’s grasp and all he does is laugh manically at you.
“that’s it!” wonbin explodes, pulling taesan’s shoulder back and punching him in the face. everyone gasps. blood trickles from taesan’s nose as he stumbles backwards.
you see the silver glint of the gun as wonbin draws it out from behind him, and you move instinctively, darting out to snatch the gun from wonbin.
“i see none of you know how to play fair!” taesan growls as he registers the gun in your hands. he reaches into his pocket and flicks out a switchblade, the blade reflects the shine of the moon - cold.
“give me that -” wonbin hisses, but you tighten your grip on the gun and shake your head.
“no, wonbin,” your voice breaks, “taesan - we don’t have to fight. let’s just talk and -”
taesan swipes his blade through the air and the two of you jerk backwards. goosebumps dot your skin and you feel the familiar adrenaline kick you get from beating the shit out of someone reemerge, clawing out from the depths and begging you, goading you to just pull at trigger and land the bullet between his eyes.
“you can’t,” you breathe out shakily - in conflict with yourself. your finger twitches nervously.
“i’m done with your fucking preaching,” wonbin shoves you off of him and someone slides a pocket knife across the concrete floor. he snatches it up and immediately launches himself at taesan.
the two of them test each other with jabs and feints, the crowd moves up as they make an impromptu ring around them. silver flashes as blades catch in moonlight and you watch as taesan backs wonbin into a corner, and wonbin kicks taesan away from him, rapidly gaining on him as his knife hungers for blood.
you try to intervene but someone moves to grab you, holding you back. the gun drops to the floor and clatters into another corner as another person yanks you back and holds you, clamped between their arm and body. they’re too strong, and you kick and yell but you’re resigned to watching the two of them leap and tumble with each other, blades inches away from skin.
“someone stop them!” you yell helplessly as the circle grows tighter, “let me go!”
wonbin’s knife skitters across the floor and disappears into the shadows, and the magpies immediately jump to defend their leader. taesan drops into a defensive position, blade pointed at the magpies, who circle him like predators around prey.
“i said, stop it!” you yell, “anton! yizhuo! back off!”
the two of them look at you in surprise at the command, but their posture relaxes ever so slightly. wonbin heaves, his back against the wall. the magpies inch away from taesan slowly.
“not so fun now, wonbin?” taesan taunts, flashing his blade in the air.
the crowd fans out when wonbin lunges for the weapon in taesan’s hand. the two wrestle for it, arms snapping wildly. taesan scrambles and wonbin follows. and when wonbin gets his hands on the switchblade taesan kicks him hard enough in the shoulder to make him drop it, snatching it from mid-air. they scratch and grab at each other, each fighting for dominance.
your own voice is hoarse from calling out - stop, wonbin, stop! stop fighting - taesan, it’s enough! stop it! you cough as the fight grows closer to you, fists flying, and bodies slam into you, everyone’s eyes transfixed on the clash of the two leaders - the showdown between the tigers and the magpies.
you’re jostled between the two members holding you back, each craning to get a look over the sea of people. one of them steps out far enough for their hold to loosen and you wrench yourself free, sliding into the crowd before they can grab you again.
wonbin stands above taesan, blood trickling down his forehead and a black eye already forming, but he has the blade in his hands, up, up high, ready to strike.
“don’t do it!” you warn. wonbin twists his head to look at you, his eyes blown wide, full of fury and disgust. at wonbin’s momentary distraction taesan surges up and strikes wonbin in the face, sending him flying back. wonbin loses his grip on the switchblade and it clatters to the ground, spinning until it comes to a slow stop in between them. there is the briefest moment of hesitation before the two of them spring into action, both lunging for the blade to get their hands on it first.
wonbin is fast, but taesan is faster. he pulls the switchblade to himself and -
wonbin doesn’t stop in time.
his shoes slip on the floor and he runs into taesan’s blade. a scream is wrenched from your throat as everyone immediately backs up. you watch as wonbin crumples to the floor. taesan’s eyes are wide, and he freezes, hand still in mid-air, but the blade embedded in wonbin’s stomach.
“no, please - no,” you beg, running to his side. you drop to your knees and cup wonbin’s head.
"bbin? answer me, you’re going to be okay,” you panic, the blood is flowing fast and it seeps into your skin. you don’t know where to start - the knife is half through and you weren’t sure whether to just leave it or yank it out.
“do you regret it?” wonbin looks straight at you, coughing, “regret giving us up?”
“no,” you’ve never lied to him, so even when he looks at you with eyes full of tears, hurt, and pleading, you tell him the truth, “no. i don’t.”
your voice cracks, “how did it get to this, bbin?”
“you were always too good for us,” wonbin sniffles, “always so far flung, like a star i couldn’t reach.”
“no, that’s not true,” you whisper, head bending down to hear him clearer, “it didn’t have to be like this. it could’ve been you rather than me.”
wonbin’s breath comes shorter, and he struggles to speak, “you shouldn’t have yelled, he got me while i was distracted.”
“shut up,” you say thickly, “now’s not the time.”
“i’m tired, [y/n],” wonbin sighs, “find me a sunny spot to rest. and you know what? curse you - all of you. i’ll see you all in hell.”
he narrows his eyes at you, and he heaves - once, twice, and his chest stills.
“bbin?” you shake him, but he doesn’t respond, “wonbin!”
your eyes immediately well up with tears and you whirl onto taesan, who still stands there, paralysed.
“you did this!”
rage and fury becomes your guide, electrifying your fingertips as you wretch the protruding knife from wonbin’s body, lunging at taesan. he stumbles backwards but you catch him - yanking him towards you. you see his mouth move but your eyes are blinded with red. he killed wonbin, and he was going to kill you next.
you bring the knife down with finality.
someone screams, and the out-of-body feeling breaks as taesan falls down next to wonbin. blood - warm, sticky, viscous - it coats your hand and the blade you let fall down to the floor. it’s like a dam broke - people shriek, and others surge forward up to the bodies, others are running for the entrance as red and blue lights flashes and casts shadows across the warehouse walls. you stand in the eye of the storm, numb and wracked with shock, anger, and regret.
“go! go! run!” someone grabs you by the arm - minjeong, and she drags you away from the bodies, “the cops are coming!”
you faintly register the wailing of sirens and other hands pushing you, urging you towards an exit. when minjeong finally yells your name loud enough to snap out of your stupor, you finally regain some control over your feet.
“i didn’t mean to -” you shake your head, “it wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
"you did it for wonbin,” minjeong says through gritted teeth.
"no one had to die tonight!” you look at her with wild, sad eyes.
“but it happened anyways, because we all have nothing but hate in our hearts,” minjeong tries to keep her voice steady as she gives you one last push, “now go!”
you take off running along the river, away from the sirens, the bodies, the blood, the tigers, and the magpies.
maybe if you run fast and far enough, you’ll outrun your shadow, too.
leehan exits the store light on his feet.
he’s waiting for the shutters to completely roll onto the ground when someone bumps into him.
well, it was more like they shove into him, throwing their body weight against his.
“woah,” he steadies himself on his feet as he grabs the person by their arms. they’re unsteady on their feet and sway back and forth.
leehan peers at them. he knows this face: “minju?”
he turns minju around to see her face clearer, and he’s surprised when it's streaked with tears, “what’s wrong? talk to me.”
“it’s - it’s,” she barely gets out between her sobs and gasps.
“they’re dead! they’re dead!” she wails, and leehan is taken aback.
“what? who? minju - calm down.”
“[y/n]! she - she!”
leehan feels his heart squeeze at your name, and his grip on minju tightens as he shakes her, “[y/n]? what about them? are they okay? are - are they safe?”
“no!” minju pushes leehan away from her, “[y/n] killed taesan! she murdered him!”
leehan’s world stops, “what?”
there’s a ringing in his ears as he shakes his head - “no, no she didn’t. she wouldn’t do that.”
“i saw it with my own eyes, leehan!” minju sobs, “oh, taesan - he had this huge gash, and there was so much blood - and, and i couldn’t do anything!”
she holds out her hands, stained with blood, dried and cracked at the edges.
“you’re lying,” leehan takes a step back, “you’re lying to me, minju.”
“leehan! she killed your brother!” minju yells, fury and anger in her voice. when he doesn’t respond she swears at him and shoves him out of the way with her shoulder to run - down the street and round the corner. she disappears.
leehan wrenches open the door to their apartment and waits for taesan to emerge or sungho to say hello. but no one is there. the house is eerily silent and his heart feels like stone, slowly, slowly pumping blood at a sluggish pace.
“it’s not true,” he whispers into the air, “taesan’s not dead.”
“it’s not true,” he repeats, squeezing his eyes shut, “taesan’s not dead.”
he can’t be.
a creak from his window breaks him out of his mantra, and he whips his head to see you standing on his fire escape. your expression is frozen in fear and panic, and rainwater drips from your fingertips.
the first thing he registers is blood, red splashed across your blue jacket you clutch in your hands. then your eyes, red and watery, and then your voice - the way it sounds broken when you call out his name.
“you killed him,” leehan says. he strides over and yanks you by the collar, you don’t protest, letting him shake you in anger, “you’re a killer! you killed my brother!”
you let him cry at you, your eyes stinging from the tears as well.
“i’m going to turn myself in to the police,” you finally say, after he’s quiets down and releases his grip on you, “i just had to see you first.”
his head dangles as he stands still, a hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.
“i’m sorry, leehan. it shouldn’t have happened.”
you say softly, you don’t dare to move a muscle, leehan is taut - like a landmine ready to explode at any moment.
“taesan struck wonbin, and before i knew it i was on him. bbin was like my brother, so when i saw what happened -”
leehan clasps a hand on your mouth and you stop mid-sentence. you wait for him to move.
“taesan would’ve killed you,” he said lowly, more to himself than anyone else, “and now you, who taesan wanted dead, killed him.”
his clasps on your wrists tightens and he pulls his hand away from your mouth, “you were right. i understand now - you’re born into violence, you delight in it, and so you’ll have violent ends.”
“behind pain is more pain. behind hate is more hate,” he whispers, “i can’t hate you - or else i would never stop.”
“leehan…”
“now i have no one but you,” he says softly, “i’ve lost everything.”
he realises you’re trembling in his grasp - from fear or from the cold? he pulls you in, through the window and you let him. you drip water all over the hardwood floor and you feel awfully exposed in the middle of his room, like someone had peeled back the layers and you’re just a scared kid again. his hand still wrapped loosely around your wrist, he sits himself down on the edge of the bed, suddenly tired and weighed down by the truth of the world.
“you can’t go,” he wraps his arms around you and buries his head in your stomach, he feels you breathe, your stomach rising up and down gently.
“i have to,” you reply, running a hand through his hair.
he shakes his head, his wrap around you tightening, “if you let them take you from me, then how can i forgive you?”
you pause, a lump stuck in your throat, “i can’t stay.”
“just stay with me until morning. please.”
“it’s light outside already.”
“no. that’s just the reflection of the moon, or a meteor sent from space,” leehan pulls away, his eyes looking up at you, shining and swimming with tears and unsaid emotions, “don’t leave me alone.”
“kiss me, [y/n]. please.”
he pulls you into his lap and you straddle him. his eyes reflect the moon through the window, and he pushes your hair out of your eyes and caresses your cheek. you move to capture his lips with yours and he whimpers, leaning back until his back hits his mattress and you cage him with your body.
“make me your’s,” he whispers, his hand dipping under your shirt to grab at your waist. he shudders at the feeling of your rainsoaked skin and his other hand pushes your shirt up with desperation.
you oblige his request.
the front door clicks open softly and sungho returns, eyes rimmed with red.
“leehan,” he calls, stopping in front of the door to his room, “we need to talk.”
“give me a moment,” leehan calls back, hurriedly slipping your shirt back onto you.
“come with me,” you grab his wrist just as he turns away from you.
“i can’t,” he whispers, “not now. later.”
“leehan, come out,” sungho calls again, knocking on the door this time.
“i’ll - i’ll come out in a minute!” leehan calls back, he gives you one last look of longing and kisses you tenderly on the forehead.
“now, go. go!” leehan nudges you out the window.
“leehan, i -” sungho opens the door in exasperation and stops abruptly. you freeze, halfway out the window. sungho gathers in the scene in front of him - leehan’s shirt on the floor, blooming purple marks across your neck, and the bed with the blankets thrown off.
you bolt before they can say anything, slipping off the side of the fire escape as sungho chases after you, stopped by the height of the building - he watches you dart into the shadows and reaches out to slam the window down with finality, shutting you out, and trapping leehan in.
leehan backs up in fear as sungho turns to look at him with cold, steely eyes.
“you did this?” he gestures to the bed.
“i -” sungho doesn’t let him finish, swiftly delivering a punch across leehan’s jaw. it stings and he turns away, squeezing his eyes shut out of pain and surprise.
“with a girl who killed your brother, leehan. we let you do anything you wanted. you left the house whenever you wanted to and we gave you a roof to stay under. you wanted a job at the fish store? okay, fine! taesan never asked a single thing of you. all you had to do was stay away from those magpies and stick to your own kind!”
the pressure in the room is overwhelming, and leehan chokes on air - he breaks, sobbing and can’t do anything but slam the door open and fall out of his room into the living room. he does anything to get away from sungho.
“you don’t get it!” he cries, gripping a chair to pull himself up, and turn around to see sungho chasing after him
“i don’t get it?” sungho yells incredulously, “leehan, surely you must know a girl who murders cannot love. that a girl who kills does not have a heart.”
leehan slams his fist into the living room wall, he knows what sungho’s saying is rational - that he shouldn’t be with a girl who kills, much less a girl who killed his own brother. the sting on his knuckles reminds him that she’s hurting, and he cries.
“but my heart’s not rational. i might not know much - sungho, but i know my heart belongs to her alone. it’s the one thing on this earth i’m sure of.”
“leehan, you have to think about this clearly,” sungho yells at him, stabbing a finger into his forehead, “this isn’t just parties and balloons anymore! its about life and death!”
“i don’t care!” leehan yells back, shrinking into himself and pushing his hands over his ears.
“leehan, you idiot!” sungho wrenches his hands away from his head, “you’ll never see her again!”
“no!” leehan pushes him away, “don’t be a hypocrite, sungho! you said it yourself - love makes you do stupid things!”
sungho stumbles back like he’s been hit, his eyes blown wide.
“i’m sorry, sungho. but when it comes to love, there’s no such thing as right or wrong,” leehan swipes as his tears as he tries to not shake.
“forgive me,” leehan whispers.
sungho’s hand flexes - forming a fist, relaxing, curling up again - a continuous cycle as he decides whether to sock leehan in the face.
eventually, he stops, and he just regards leehan sadly.
“i love you, leehan,” he says, after a momentary pause.
“i love you too, hyung,” leehan reaches out to hug sungho and he reciprocates, and leehan cries into his shoulder, hurting about losing his brother, losing himself, losing you…
“can you tell [y/n] to wait for me in front of the train station,” leehan says through snot once he peels himself off sungho, “she’ll be at jiwon’s.”
sungho frowns but he nods anyway, “in front of the train station.”
“tell her i’ll be there soon - at 6,” leehan wipes at his nose.
“i’m telling you, minju has a gun,” yuna shakes minjeong, “and she’s going to kill [y/n]!”
“you can’t just say shit like that, yuna,” minjeong pushes yuna away from her.
“minjeong! you have to take me seriously! i heard her - at the record store where taesan used to work! she’s planning revenge - she has the gun, wonbin’s gun! and she’s out there somewhere looking for [y/n], and [y/n]’s in danger and -”
“just go,” minjeong hisses, “i don’t want to see you or any of the kids here.”
yizhuo wrings her hands in worry, “jiwon let us in so we can evade the cops. we can’t bring trouble to us right now.”
“but - but [y/n]!” yuna splutters.
“go, yuna, it’s an order.”
yuna balks and spins in disdain, stomping over to the door and yanking it open.
she gasps, “a tiger!”
sungho stands outside, hair wet from the rain under the cap he’s put on.
minjeong stands up from her chair and yuna quickly mutters a ‘leave!’ before she runs away into the night. sungho only silently regards her and steps cautiously into jiwon’s shop.
“i want to see your friend, [y/n]. she’s supposed to be there,” sungho starts, hesitant.
the magpies reply him with cold stares.
“i have a message for her,” he tries to keep his voice steady, but when none of them respond he snaps, “where’s jiwon?”
“i recognise you. you were taesan’s right-hand man,” anton steps forward.
“we saw you at the dance,” giselle adds.
“no, i remember exactly who you are,” minjeong snaps her fingers, “you’re the one who abandoned jaehyun.”
sungho pales, “no, i’m not.”
“you’re blonde now, but you used to have darker hair,” minjeong squints, “i would know. i was there when it all blew up.”
“you’re don’t know what you’re talking about,” sungho says defensively, backing up as the magpies encircle him, like birds swooping down around prey, teasing them with claws and threats. he tries to step out the door but sungchan grabs him, dragging him back like a fish in a net.
“you and jaehyun. tried to do a little arson on one of our hideouts,” minjeong starts, stepping closer to sungho - the smell of iron is in the air and laced with danger and urgency.
“you got out just fine when the fire grew big enough, but jaehyun got trapped under… what was it?” she looks inquisitively at sungho.
he feels his mouth go dry as he shakes his head and tries to back out again, but this time they’ve learnt, blocking the door. sungho slams into someone’s chest and they hold him there.
“ohhh, i remember,” giselle replies mockingly, “just a piece of fallen debris from the roof. guess you didn’t think that far, huh?”
someone snatches his jacket off when he twists in their grip, and another pulls his hat off his head. he scrambles for them but they toss it around like hot potatoes, laughing in ridicule as he hears the fabric of his jacket rip.
“oh yeah, that. you know, we found him down there, burnt to a crisp. i wonder what he yelled when he saw you run away. was he sad? angry? i guess we’ll never know.”
minjeong shrugs as hands push sungho onto the ground and he covers his head with his hands as they continue to yell and laugh at him. the sound of jaehyun yelling his name echoes painfully inside his head and he pleads for them to stop - stop reminding him, stop digging up his guilt, stop using jaehyun’s name like a weapon. it presses into him like glass, hurting more than the kicks and shoves. he remembers jaehyun’s wide eyes, glossed over in fear and hurt, and he remembers how the flames licked up jaehyun’s arms and he remembers the feeling of himself unable to hear jaehyun’s voice over the crackling of wood and fire.
“what are you doing?” jiwon pushes open the door to the basement and yells over the chaos, immediately pulling magpies back. sungchan winces as his hair gets yanked back and minjeong is dealt with swiftly with a slap on the cheek.
“sungho! are you okay -” jiwon goes to help him up but he swings at her wildly.
“don’t touch me!” he yells, eyes glossy, “you traitor!”
jiwon widens her eyes as sungho wipes at his mouth. his eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. there’s venom in his voice when he hisses: “i should’ve never come here! now leehan’s dead because of you!”
jiwon gasps and the magpies freeze, sungho grits his teeth.
“minju found out. she shot him. and now he’s dead.”
his lies out of spite, out of hatred, out of fear - because hurt people hurt people.
he steps closer to jiwon, “you. you tell that murderer she’ll never see him again. and he’s dead because of her and all that she’s done. you tell [y/n] that.”
jiwon’s hand comes over her mouth as sungho finishes, willing himself to walk to the door as the magpies move out of his way, stunned. he pulls open the door and doesn’t look back, even when jiwon trails behind him.
the door clicks quietly shut, and jiwon turns slowly to the magpies.
“i won’t scold you,” jiwon says quietly, “i’ll give it to you straight: you dishonour yourself. you dishonour your dead. that - you’ll never move on from.”
silence answers her, and she brushes past them and disappears down the basement.
“jiwon,” you basically lunge at her as she comes down the stairs, “what was it? i just heard yelling upstairs. was it - was it the cops?”
“no, no it wasn’t.”
she watches as your face relaxes and you rush to finish packing your bag - you shove a book into a corner of the duffel.
“[y/n]. i think you might want to sit down,” she trudged wearily over to the spare bed she keeps in the basement - for when you can’t get home, and pats the space next to her.
“can’t, jiwon, i got somewhere to be.”
you dump a jacket in there - the one you were wearing at the aquarium, “i’m sorry. i know i’ve basically sucked the soul out of you already, but i need to borrow some money - enough change to get on a bus that goes far away from here, for leehan & i. and - and when we get some place and settle down we’ll find work and i’ll pay you back, every cent - promise. you know i always keep my promises.”
“no, [y/n]. listen to me!” you pause in the middle of zipping up your bag when you hear jiwon raise her voice.
“i’m sorry, is it too much?” guilt overcomes your face and jiwon’s heart breaks for you.
“no, it’s not that,” she gestures at you to come over and you slip onto the bed next to her, you take her hand and she hates how bright your eyes are.
“i’m going to name all our girls jiwon, because if you haven’t cared for me and taken me in when i most needed it, i might not even be alive anymore. no - i might not even deserve to be alive, but you gave me that chance.”
“oh, [y/n]. don’t say that,” jiwon clutches your hand, “life is more than love.”
“they’re the same thing, aren’t they?” you smile at her, “before meeting leehan, i thought nothing of life and love, but now i understand, he’s part of the reason i breathe - and that’s why i live.”
you watch as jiwon’s face contorts. a unnerving feeling begins to dawn on you.
“jiwon, what’s wrong?” you push, and her lips begin to tremble.
“it was sungho upstairs,” she starts, and she evades your eyes, “minju has a gun. and - and she shot leehan.”
she watches as the colour drains out of your face, “she - she killed him. he’s dead.”
immediately your eyes grow wide and a sob is wretched from your throat. you clap your hands over your ears and collapse, you crawl away from jiwon, stumbling to your feet as you slam into a wall. you hold yourself there - you want to go home, anywhere but here - you scream and it feels like someone has carved a wound straight into your heart. it thumps wildly and blood rushes into your ears as you shudder with the wave of emotion that overcomes you, drowning you and pushing you underwater until you can’t breathe. you feel a thousand emotions at once, but it’s all snatched away so fast it gives you whiplash and you feel cold and heavy, as if someone had hollowed you out and dumped stones into your stomach.
you gasp and clutch at your head - turning away from jiwon’s concerned figure, as if putting enough physical distance between you two took you further from the truth, as if turning around and pretending you didn’t hear it meant leehan was still alive.
something in you snaps. it feels like a thousand stinging needles have penetrated your heart and it hurts more than any punch you’ve received. you let out a scream that rattles even you and jiwon watches as you run up the stairs, into the silver-streaked, slick-covered concrete roads, the moon reflecting off the puddles.
you can’t breathe, you heave but you’re still choking on air and fury. tears don’t come, instead you’re left to grapple with a red-hot pearl of anger festering in the pits of your stomach.
“minju? minju - where are you?” you yell into the night. mist and fog flows in from over the rooftops and sizzles against your skin.
if leehan wasn’t here, then what was the point in living?
“if you want to kill me, i’m right here!” you scream as you streak down the street. an open target for a bullet to strike you.
if he isn’t alive, then why should you be?
“come on! where are you!” your voice echoes off the concrete walls.
it’s not fair - this isn’t fair. how come you - ugly, wretched you, is still alive, while leehan - leehan who’s never done anything wrong in his life and has never hurt a single being, dies?
“minju, kill me! kill me too!”
you cry. you’re running down the streets like a maniac wailing the name of a girl with a gun and asking for a death sentence.
“[y/n]!”
suddenly someone calls your name just as you round a corner. it’s leehan - in his worn-out jeans and red shirt, a suitcase in his hand as he runs towards you, a familiar smile on his face.
a million questions flash through your head but your feet instinctively carry you towards him. you wonder if you’re hallucinating but his shoes sound against the floor and you can hear him call your name again -
“no!”
a gunshot rings through the air from behind you and you see leehan’s face drop into terror. there’s a searing pain in your left shoulder but you push through. you needed to get to him - you need to touch him, feel him, make sure he’s alive -
your feet don't stop, and neither do the bullets. another gunshot is fired and this time it hits you harder, there’s a burning under your ribs and you feel your feet give away from underneath you. leehan drops his suitcase and catches you just as you fall, his knees buckling under your weight as you tumble to the floor.
“[y/n]!” he grasps your hand and he tries to ignore the blood, “answer me!”
“oh, leehan,” you say, a soft smile on your face, “it’s you - leehan.”
“it’s me, [y/n],” he hiccups, “what’s happening? don’t go - please.”
“leehan,” you repeat again, your voice weak - it’s the only thing you can get out, his name. a group of magpies and tigers gather around, drawn by the gunshot. minjeong gasps and yizhuo sobs loudly when she sees you.
“i’m here,” leehan promises again. your hand weakly reaches out and he shoves his cheek into your palm, “i’m scared. don’t leave me.”
“don’t be scared, leehan,” your eyes fill with worry and he drops his weight onto you.
“then don’t go,” he insists, pearls of tears falling down his cheek and cascades down the back of your hand.
“i kept my promise,” you say, “about being with you til the day i die. i told you, i always keep my promises.”
“you’re not dying,” leehan blubbers, his hand pressing down on the bullet wound. the blood is warm against his palm and it doesn’t stop no matter how hard he presses.
“i’m sorry i couldn’t love you more,” you let out a shuddering breath and leehan’s heart breaks.
“then stay,” he begs, sobbing, “stay with me.”
“don’t cry, hannie,” he watches as your eyes curl up into crescent moons, “i love you.”
“i love you, leehan,” you repeat, barely audible.
your hand goes slack and it drops.
“no - no, no!” he desperately grabs it, placing it again onto his cheek - but it's cold and it doesn’t stay there, sliding off his face and dropping into the mud below. there’s nothing behind your eyes and blood seeps through his hand - the one that’s still clutching your’s. it sneaks in between the crevices of your hands and stains your skins.
he presses his face into your neck as he weeps, the warm tears through a stark contrast to your cold skin. he suddenly whips his head up, only to see minju standing above them, a gun in her hand and a look of disbelief across her face.
leehan crawls to his feet and stumbles towards minju, holding out a hand, “give it to me.”
when she doesn’t respond he grabs it from her hand. the revolver is small in his hands, and he stares at it - the thing that killed you.
“how do i shoot it?” he asks, swallowing down his tears, “do i just pull the trigger?”
minju steps back in fear as he suddenly points the gun towards her, hands trembling.
“how many bullets in this, minju?” he yells, “enough for you?”
he turns the gun onto minjeong, “and you? all of you!”
the gun stares down woonhak as he whirls around, gun turned on the tigers - the people he once considered family.
“you all killed her! and my brother! and wonbin! not with bullets and guns, but with hate!”
woonhak pales and riwoo steps in between them, leehan’s hand shakes wildly and the metal mechanisms inside the gun clack loudly against one another.
“well now i can kill too. because now i have hate!”
leehan chokes out, he spins and points the gun towards minju, still trembling, “how many people can i kill, minju?”
she swallows harshly.
“i said - how many can i kill?” he yells, head thrashing, “and still have one left over for me?”
his breathing quickens and the trigger on the revolver clinks as he presses down on it. through his tears sees minju, and the rest of the magpies and tigers. he chokes on his tears and drops to his knees. the gun clatters against concrete as he crawls towards you, reaching out for you.
he cries as he cradles your face, “[y/n], why? why did it have to be this way?”
he sobs, but no matter how much he cries he cannot bring you back. no matter how many people he kills tonight, he cannot bring your back. no matter how much he loves you, he can’t save you.
“i love you,” he repeats it like a prayer, as if reminding himself that he still has a heart. he felt as though his heart died when you died, snatching it with you and throwing it to the wind alongside your last breath. he shuts his eyes and remembers your smile and the shape of your eyes.
someone rests their hands on his back and he immediately throws himself over you, curling around you protectively, “don’t touch her!” he yells frantically, voice raw and strained.
feet shuffle back as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you up into his chest.
“don’t take her from me, please,” he wasn’t sure who he was pleading to anymore. the others? minju? god?
“leehan, we need to let her rest,” riwoo crouches down and gently lays a hand on his shoulder.
leehan sniffs and cradles you close to him, and riwoo helps him up as he stands, you still in his arms. your hand slips, and yizhuo places your hand delicately into your lap as she sobs too.
you’ll like somewhere where you can see the sky, leehan thinks, as he carries you through the fog and into an alleyway - where you can count the same stars as him, together.
IT'S HEREEEE r&j leehanie :3 happy birthday my bunny
let me know who you think from hybe [y/n] stabbed!!!!!!
i feel like despite the word count everything seems pretty rushed towards the end so i'm sorry. this fic kinda my worst enemy because it exposes my worst skills (writing arguments and action, inability to write in a linear narrative, etc. etc.) but yk. there's a time for everything, stepping out of my comfort box blablabla.
oh and a sidenote koreans uses wooden ducks during weddings to signify the couple so that's what the rubber ducks are a reference to! i thought it was cuter than just the usual yeahhh lets recite vows to each other in a church.
♡ or ↻ if you enjoyed, support your writers, thank you!!
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MY TESTIMONIAL: i voted love triangle gongfourz childhood friends au and chanted 'LOVE TRIANGLE GONGFOURZ' three times in the mirror and when i turned around i saw kim donghyun and han dongmin themselves in my bed I HIGHLY RECOMMEND.
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it really should have been their espresso omg.... funny enough mwotgata is my fav bnd song !!!!! close second is slgsts and then.... ough this is so hard i love their discography so much 😭 but i think it's gonna be ewf my shayla (shoutout to dangerous and gonna be a rock i have to mention them....) junie wbu wbu !!!!
mine are in no particular order but sometimes, count to love, and iisily! also very close behind is ruin my life but it is an ost... but lowkey i think vocally they sound the best in it (esp woonhak 🥺)
persimmons & copper coins
ꨄ.. ⠀⠀sungho x f! reader x taesan.
sypnosis: edith academy is everything you've ever dreamed of as a witch, even if you have to leave everything behind - your mom, the small cottage, the town, and taesan - the small black cat that doubles as your familiar. but at edith, nothing is ever simple. you learn that very quickly when architecture student, blonde, and normal park sungho appears in your life. (wc. 16.3k)
tags: love triangle!; cat familiar! taesan; architecture student! sungho; witch! reader; losers losers everyone is a LOSER /pos.
a/n: who let me cook?!!?!?!? the answer is my lovely rosypie @taestulipss who not only indulged my slightly insane ideas but also help proof read this kkeomchiz fic <333 this one is for you. inspired by all the 2000s shoujo mangas with love triangles and bubbly female protagonists we read.
“taesan! get out of my trunk!”
you grab the black cat and plop him on the ground - out of your way. taesan yawns, his sharp teeth showing as he rolls over onto your feet, wide copper eyes staring at you unblinkingly like two coins pressed between black fur.
“i’m sorry,” you whine, reaching down to scratch his tummy, just the way he likes it, “but you can’t come with me. i’m going to school!”
taesan just meows at you, as if saying he could go to school too.
“you’re a cat, taesan! cats don’t go to school!” you laugh, “now you stay here at mom’s, okay? i’m only going to be gone for a few months, and i’ll be back for the holidays!”
your mother stares at you over her cauldron.
“i’m going to lose him,” she says matter-of-factedly.
“i’m sure you won’t,” you scratch taesan behind his ears and he purrs, “taesan’s a good kitty! isn’t that right?”
“... right!” your mother stirs her cauldron and coughs when green smoke suddenly puffs into the air.
taesan just meows and pushes his head into your palm, eyes closed in contentment.
edith academy is bigger than you imagined.
your trunk drops to the floor as you gape at the towers. you’ve heard stories from your mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight of the world’s leading academy for magic users.
"it never gets old,” jaehyun sighs, staring wistfully at the gold towers. ribbons cascade over the entrance and wind up to read ‘WELCOME’ in large letters. pixies and sprites zoom past you, and one of them deposits a cupcake in your hands. the rainbow sprinkles dance in the frosting and eventually settles into a crooked ‘HELLO!’.
"you’ll want tea with that,” jaehyun conjures up a teaset from thin air and your jaw hits the floor. you’re still a rookie in witch terms - you could only levitate objects and summon them from across the room. object teleportation was still a work in progress.
jaehyun chuckles at your reaction and offers you a teacup. you hold it as he pours piping hot tea into it. you take a cautious sip and it tastes of strawberries and roses.
"here, let me show you around,” he flips his hands and the teapot disappears. a flick of his fingers and your trunk levitates.
"i still have to hold my hands out to levitate things,” you say, your mouth full of cupcake that seems to switch flavours everytime you chew.
"you’ll learn to do stuff like this pretty quickly,” jaehyun offers you a comforting smile, "and soon you’ll be one of the greatest witches the world has ever seen!”
… "so this is the dining hall.”
jaehyun pushes open the doors and you’re immediately hit with the smell of food. your stomach growls, even after you’ve stuffed yourself with cupcake and tea.
"the food is adjusted based on your preferences,” jaehyun waves in the direction of the food bar, "so if you like it spicy, it’ll be spicy. if you don’t, well, they’ll try to make it as milque toast as possible.”
you watch as a ladle lifts itself into the air and plops a spoonful of rice onto a plate, dousing it in sriracha before the plate gently floats away.
"the plates are always warm for hot dishes, and it’ll come over to your seat automatically, since it’s synced to your magic signal,” jaehyun waves his hand around his head, and you watch the plate of red rice float past a plate of plain rice before landing on a table.
"once you’re done unpacking, we should go get dinner together,” jaehyun beams reassuringly, "in about… two hours?”
"sure,” you hope you aren’t drooling, "i’d love to.”
“mom!” you yell into your mirror, hands gripped on the handle.
your mother’s forehead stares back at you, obviously - your distress is not one of her priorities.
“why is taesan in my room?” you angle the mirror so your mom can see taesan in the frame, and when you stare accusingly at him all he does is lick his paw non-chalantly.
“and just because you wrote a note pretending to be him doesn’t make me forgive you!” you grip the note in your hand, a rough ‘human, you forgot to take me with you.’ scrawled onto it. your mother must have written it with her non-dominant hand to get the ugly looking handwriting.
“i’m sorry, sweetie,” your mom finally floats into view, her hair frizzy and purple from an experiment, “i kept him inside! but he just exploded into silver glitter and disappeared!”
she showed you the kitchen floor, covered in said silver glitter. you watch as taesan shakes and more silver glitter dislodge from his fur and all you can do is sigh.
“i’m telling you. he’s your familiar - your lucky charm.”
“but we’re not allowed pets, and you gave me him!”
your mother shrugs, “- to protect you. have you considered he’s just doing his job?”
you frown. technically protecting you and following you around was taesan’s job as a familiar. you weren’t really sure how a cuddly black cat could do anything to protect you - he lives off fatty tuna and wacky bed-times, and would probably abandon you in a cave for the concept of a tube of churu.
“fine,” you huff, more at taesan than your mother, “but if you cause any trouble i’m sending you straight home.”
taesan just flops onto your bed and settles in, obviously not at all discomforted by the sudden change in environment and your accusatory tone.
“you can try, but he’ll find his way back to you no matter what,” your mother scrunches up her nose, “even if it means he explodes into glitter every time.”
she sighs, “there has to be a spell to clean this up, right?”
you end the call through her mumbles.
you stare at taesan and sigh, scratching him behind the ear. his midnight black fur is soft to the touch and he blinks slowly at you, obviously pleased by your scratches.
for a moment, the shadows flicker, and they seem to stretch longer than they should. taesan’s ears twitches and he hisses as his head swivels to the corner of the room.
“what’s wrong, baby?” you follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there.
“are you seeing ghosts? they did say this place was haunted,” you wonder out loud, and you shudder when a chill runs down your spin.
taesan settles back down, but his tail flicks in agitation.
“calm down, taesanie,” you pet his coat. when you pull your hand away and it's covered in glitter.
you wrinkle your nose.
“you need a bath.”
taesan yowls.
“no, no alcohol, please,” the champagne bottle freezes in mid-air and turns it’s mouth towards you, tilting slightly as if to ask - seriously? you’re not getting champagne? it drifts back dejectedly into the ice bucket and bottles of various drinks jump up, each vying for attention.
you’re dizzy by the selection and you blurt out - “apple juice, thank you!”
the carton quickly leaps into action and gurgles apple juice into the wine glass, it floats gently into your hands and you grip the stern uncertainty - you were for sure not in the budget to be breaking crystal glassware.
jaehyun waves you over to a table, his wine glass sloshing with red wine (or cranberry juice, who knows). you avoid a plate that would’ve decapitated you if you hadn’t ducked in time as you maneuver your way to his table,
“the food’s gonna be here soon!” jaehyun announces as you slip onto the bench opposite him, “you gotta try the tteokbokki!”
“sounds good!” you try to speak over the incessant chatter, “but this seems kind of dangerous!”
you stare at the tongs behind the dinner bar furiously moving at inhuman speeds to dump vegetables and meats onto plates as the plates swerve out of the way of students and launch themselves into the air overhead.
“oh, you’ll get used to it,” jaehyun takes a sip of his wine, “it calms down after -”
someone shrieks. there’s a resounding bang that echoes around the hall as mashed potatoes and gravy fly into the air.
“- after the first week,” jaehyun finishes, sighing and shaking his head as people start swearing and conjuring magic spells. mops come waddling into the hall, their mop heads wetly slapping across the marble as they wriggle through the crowd to clean up the mess, shooing students away (‘more trouble than help,’ jaehyun quips, as you hear someone yell - ‘wait! let me practice my art spell!’)
you laugh behind your hand as you avoid another panicked plate whizzing overhead, “i can see why!”
“jaehyun!”
jaehyun yelps and nearly falls off the bench when someone suddenly slams their hand on his shoulder.
“whoops, sorry,” a ginger laughs as he steps back.
“riwoo, my love!” jaehyun recovers quick enough, picking himself off the floor and throwing his arms around riwoo.
riwoo stares at you awkwardly as jaehyun squeezes him.
“is he always like this?”
“always,” riwoo mouths, before clearing his throat, “okay, that’s enough.”
riwoo peels jaehyun away from him with his fingers.
“this your new little?” riwoo flashes a smile at you, “i’m riwoo.”
“hi,” you beam at him, and he laughs.
“she’s just like you, jaehyun.”
“i know,” jaehyun puffs out his chest proudly.
“oh, this is my little,” riwoo points at the guy behind him, who breaks out of his fazed expression and nods his head in greeting, “well, he’s actually on exchange from smiths. my big little - he’s a fourth year.”
“learning about the fun parts of the world, eh?” jaehyun wiggles his eyebrows.
the blonde laughs awkwardly, “well, yeah. i always wanted to be a witch growing up.”
“who knows,” you wink conspiratorially, “maybe you’ll figure out you have magic all along while you’re here!”
“oh, maybe,” his smile falters, and you wonder if you’ve hit a nerve, “i’m sungho, by the way.”
“hi sungho,” you and jaehyun both chirp at the same time and riwoo laughs, sliding in next to jaehyun, leaving sungho to awkwardly squeeze onto your bench. you heat up at how his shoulder nudges against you, and it registers in your brain that his shoulder are actually, very, nicely broad. it’s always just been your mom and you, and then taesan a few years ago. you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this close to someone else, much less a man.
you take a deep breath and subtly try to fan your face as your plate of food wafts slowly in front of you and jaehyun, spices mingle in the air as riwoo’s plate comes zooming over, nearly crashing into the table and spilling his fried chicken over the table.
“oops, sorry. i should’ve let you put yours on my signal,” riwoo looks at sungho apologetically.
“don’t worry, i’ll go get it myself,” sungho sighs, shaking his head as he pushes himself off the table, “you magic people have it so easy.”
jaehyun laughs at how sungho saunters off and fights with a plate floating dejectedly near the dinner bar. you watch him wave his arms around in argument with the plate, who keeps dodging out of his hands, and look around in embarrassment before wrestling it back to your table.
“it’s no fair. why don’t you guys have non-animated plates?” sungho huffs, blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes. he slams the plate down on the wood grain.
“you’ll learn to accept it eventually,” riwoo chuckles.
“so, if you’re from smiths, that means you’re, like, super smart, right?” jaehyun points a fork at sungho, who pushes his peas around the plate.
sungho shrugs, “i’m just good at maths and numbers.”
“what do you do anyways?” you lean forward on your elbows.
“i study architecture,” sungho stabs a tteokbokki with his fork, “i’m here studying the - uh, architecture in magical contexts.”
“so you look at buildings?” jaehyun snorts, “sounds boring.”
“it’s fun!” sungho says defensively, “you look at how buildings are built, why they made decisions that way, and watching people live in that space is honestly a great feeling.”
“wow, so how does magical architecture differ from…” you pause, “normal architecture?”
“well, normal architecture doesn’t attack you for one thing,” sungho laughs, “the doorframe of my dorm moved to hit me, i swear. i’m being bullied by the architecture.”
you watch his eyes light up, “but the shapes are different - because you guys don’t have to rely on man-made machinery and motor skills to build things, so you guys were building things that we were just figuring out recently.”
“you guys are way behind,” riwoo snorts, flourishing a napkin out of nowhere to dab at his mouth.
“we’re independent,” sungho purses his lips as jaehyun slaps riwoo on the arm (‘we’re not allowed to say that to the normies, riwoo,’ jaehyun hisses).
“but still, it’s cool what you can do with magic,” sungho smiles wistfully at you, and you feel yourself being drawn in by his eyes.
“are you sure you don’t have magic? you have very charming eyes,” you suddenly blurt out before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes wide. sungho blinks in shock while jaehyun bursts into laughter.
“sorry, i didn’t know why i said that.”
sungho laughs too, not at you, just softly, like you two are sharing an inside joke, “no, it’s okay.”
there’s an odd feeling inside your stomach - the type your mother calls stomach whirlies and butterflies wings.
“have we met before?” you suddenly ask.
“us?” sungho looks taken aback, “um, have we?”
you frown, “i can’t remember.”
you wince as a sudden sharp pain drives itself through your forehead, your hands coming up to cradle your head.
“you okay?” sungho asks, eyes wide.
“i’m okay,” the pain disappeared as quickly as it appeared, “just a headache.”
“are - are you sure?” sungho peers at you, hands hovering uncertainly.
“hands off the girl!” jaehyun booms suddenly, springing up from the chair. he points a finger at you and you can feel his magic sparking off his fingers. it creates a soothing feeling in between your brows and you feel yourself physically relax.
“what was that?” you gawk at him.
“it’s a little soothing spell,” jaehyun gives a self-satisfied smirk as he sits back down, “you’ll learn it in spells for healing soon. that’s what got me through my first year of school.”
“how come you guys just get to magic headaches away,” sungho mutters, pushing at his peas with his fork.
“you should drink more water,” he adds, clearing his throat, “it’ll -”
“guys, look, shooting star!” riwoo interrupts your conversation and points out the window. bright lights streak across midnight blue and you see jaehyun immediately clasp his hands together and make a wish.
riwoo stares at you curiously after he’s muttered something that sounds suspiciously like ‘first place. beat leehan at every game’.
“are you not making a wish?”
you give him a tight smile, “i don’t really believe in shooting stars, they never work anyways.”
you freeze in the middle of your room. you’ve put a name to the feeling - deja vu.
taesan cautiously chirps at you when you throw your clothes into the air, frustrated by the snail's pace you’ve been unpacking at - where’s a spell when you need one?
“kitty,” you squeeze taesan in your arms as you collapse onto the bed, smooching him on the forehead, “i have this strange feeling, like i’ve met sungho before.”
taesan nips you in the palm and you release him, “ow! what the hell, sanie?”
he’s never bit you before, but now he looks awfully proud of himself as he licks his fur.
“what was that for?”
taesan turns his butt towards you in response, and you laugh in disbelief.
“you’re a wicked cat, you know that?”
you wag your finger at him and pull it away quickly as he suddenly turns to bite the tip of your finger off. his licks his jowls happily and you give him a rough ruffle on his tiny head as a punishment.
“truce, my lord,” you laugh, and taesan starts making biscuits on your pillow. you take it as a sign of peace.
“goodnight, taesanie. i love you,” you blow out the candle next to the bedside table as you snuggle into your plush pillow, he meows softly in response and you hear him do his usual routine of prowling around the perimeter of your room and sniffing at shadows before leaping back onto your bed. you listen to how he shuffles and gingerly bites down a corner of your blanket and drag it over your shoulder.
you’re nearly asleep when you hear taesan hiss - low and threatening. you barely manage to blink an eye open, and when you do you see taesan at the foot of your bed, fur bristled, staring into a corner of the room.
“taesan?” you mumble, halfway off to dreamland.
he doesn’t respond, staring straight into the corner. after a long moment, he settles down with a dissatisfied mrrow, placing him between you and whatever was disturbing him in the corner of the room.
“silly cat,” you mumble, eyes shut again, words slurring, “protecting me from bed bugs.”
taesan doesn’t sleep. his copper coin eyes glowing in the darkness and fixed on the shadows until dawn.
you wake up to taesan staring at you, cutting off your oxygen as he sits squarely on your chest.
“i’m up, i’m up,” you grumble, shooing him away. taesan paws at you pointedly as you hurry to open up a can of cat food and scrape it in his food bowl.
“there. satisfied, your highness?” you place your hands at your hips as you watch him chow down on his breakfast.
“i’ve got class all day today, so you better behave yourself and not cause any trouble,” you start throwing clothes onto the bed - a jacket (is the print too on the nose?), a shirt (is this too formal?), and you labour over which shoes to wear. taesan licks his mouth clean as he peers at you curiously.
“what do you think?” you hold up your options, “the sneakers that match my eyes or the boots that make me seem cool?”
taesan patters over and paws at the sneakers.
“okay, okay, thank you, my fashion stylist,” you lean to give him one last pet on the head and he purrs into your palm, rubbing his cheek against it with his tail high in the air like an antenna. you giggle at how easy it is to butter him up.
“and make my bed for me!” you give him one last plea, grabbing your book bag as the door magically swings open. you swear taesan rolls his eyes at you but the door slams shut before you can actually check.
“so do the beds here make the bed for you on their own?” someone asks as you try to slip on a shoe.
“huh?” you look up and slip, falling into sungho’s awaiting arms.
“sorry!” you dart back just as quickly.
“no worries,” sungho gives you an easy-going smile, “i guess uneven cobblestone you can trip on is a common here too.”
you definitely didn’t trip over a rock, but you’re grateful for sungho’s out.
“do you live here too?”
“just down the hall,” he tilts his head, “so do the beds magically make themselves? did i just waste five minutes trying to wrestle the bedsheet down?”
you feel embarrassment crawl up your neck, “uh, no.”
“oh,” sungho frowns, “i thought these were single rooms.”
“um, someone stayed overnight,” you rush out. technically, taesan was a someone, he was just a cat.
an unreadable feeling appears on sungho’s face.
“i see,” he says, suddenly sharp.
“please don’t snitch on me!” you clasp your hands together.
“i’m not that boring,” sungho smiles teasingly, and his hand reaches out to ruffle your hair.
the both of you stare at each other at the sudden movement.
“um,” sungho starts, drawing his hand away in embarrassment, “sorry.”
“no, it’s okay,” you suddenly feel shy and you look away, staring at the floor, but the uneven cobblestone tiles remind you of him, so instead you settle for staring pointedly at cream walls of stone blocks.
sungho clears his throat in an attempt to break the awkward silence, “i think we’re walking to the same class.”
you register the empty hall around you, “oh! transfiguration!”
you look at him, suddenly worried, “but you can’t do transfiguration.”
sungho laughs, “i’m just watching. as long as you don’t turn me into a frog, i think i’m fine.”
you give him a cheeky smile as you push open the doors - “no promises.”
“guess you’ll just have to kiss me back into a human.”
“ew!” you wince at the thought, “sorry, i’m kissing no frog, even if you are the frog.”
sungho laughs, the sound carefree and loud.
sungho settles into the stool next to you naturally, and you watch as the teacher stalks in and shuts the door with a loud bang. he takes a survey of the classroom, disappearing completely behind the stalk of books and papers on his desk.
“morning, new class,” you strain to see him over his stack of papers, but give up when all you can catch a glimpse of is a tuft of hair, “welcome to transfiguration. now, would anyone like to start us off with a definition?”
you see a girl’s hand shoot up.
“hm,” the teacher’s eyes appeared over his stack of papers, “yes, miss eunchae?”
“the ability to alter anything into new forms,” she shoots off quickly.
“a textbook definition,” he applauds slowly, and everyone else joins in hesitantly.
“now, a teacup in front of you,” his stack wavers slightly as he waves a hand in the air and a white teacup suddenly pops in existence, it rattles as it drops onto the table. sungho sucks in a breath as you immediately push your fingers in its direction - you can feel the radiation of magic simmering out of it and you shudder at how intense it feels.
“now, class,” professor lee claps his hands, “turn it into a rat.”
you feel sweat trickle down your back at the assignment. you haven’t done a single lick of complex transfiguration before, the closest thing you’ve ever done was turn a red rose blue. you weren’t even sure where to start, but professor lee seems far too occupied with his papers to care.
you let your magic pulse between your fingers as you hold them around the porcelain, it hums against the signal of the cup, vibrating like a taut guitar string. you rack your head and try to think back on how you turned the rose blue - it was like you just thought it into existence. you purse your lips - imagining a rat - um, gray, big, with whiskers and a tail. you close your eyes and try your best to imagine a rat in your head.
you crack an eye open. still a teacup.
sungho stifles a laugh as you sigh.
you screw your eyes shut as you try again, this time, you bend your magic around the teacup, and slowly mold into the shape of a rat. you hear a squeak from behind you and sungho’s quiet whoa. it grew a snout, and you frown at the fact that someone has already grown a snout. your magic continues to hum but nothing changes.
“remember,” professor lee’s voice rings out, “transfiguration is all about believing in and understanding both objects. to alter a teacup into a rat, you must know the teacup intimately, and the rat intimately. only then, can you change one into another.”
you pop your eyes open and look around - eunchae has a tail, and the guy next to you has whiskers. everyone around you seems to have managed something, but your teacup just stares at you mockingly.
you stare at the porcelain china. you know its a teacup. it’s made of white porcelain, and rimmed in blue and gold. you drink tea out of it, and you know that if you drop it onto the floor it’ll shatter. you know all these things about it, but apparently not enough.
besides you, sungho has already started on his notes, scribbling away despite the fact you have not even changed the colour of the teacup, much less ta-da’d it into a rat.
“having trouble?” he whispers, quirking up a smile at you.
“no,” you lie, staring at the teacup as if you could will it into rodent form.
sungho glances between your teacup and eunchae’s - a monstrosity of a teacup with a tail and flailing paws, “you’re overthinking it.”
you frown, magic has always come naturally to you - it helps to be born into a long line of witches. you usually got things on the first try, because it's intuitive to you, like centuries of knowledge buried deep inside you, just waiting to be unearthed. you’ve never second-guessed yourself, and you’ve always moved on instinct.
“respectfully, i think not,” you hold out a palm and sungho laughs, putting down his pen.
“i’ve been crunching the numbers - metaphorical numbers,” he adds at your puzzled stare, “everyone who can’t do it is doing the same thing.”
he gestures at woonhak from two tables down, who looks like he’s trying to intimidate the teacup into a rat by glowering at it, “you keep stopping right after you start, you’re second-guessing too hard. your hands keep wavering like you can’t commit.”
you slump in your chair, “my mom could transfigure teacups when she was six. grandma could turn an entire tea set gold, if she wanted.”
“so you're psyching yourself out because you think you should already know how to do it.”
“maybe you’re right,” you stare at the cup.
across the room, minje’s cup grows a pink snout, and he whoops. you wanted to punch him.
“listen, let’s start on a fresh page,” sungho literally flips onto a new page in his notebook and begins sketching.
“in architecture, there’s this theory called form follows function,” he starts, his lines straight, clean, and confident, “it’s the idea that the form of a building should follow its purpose. like, forget functionless flare and make a home a home, an office an office, stuff like that.”
a quick replica of the cup appears on his page, followed by a chubby rat. his strokes are calculated and neat.
“so, a teacup,” he taps his drawing, “is designed to hold tea. it’s a containment. it’s got walls and a handle you can hold onto. it screams ‘i hold things’, that’s why you put tea into a cup instead of, say, a plate. the cup is defined by what’s inside it, fundamentally.”
he adds whiskers onto his rat, “a rat, on the other hand, is designed for motions. it’s got little legs to scurry around on and a big nose to sniff out cheese. it’s built for motion, a teacup is static.”
he meets your eyes, “in this case, you’re not just changing a teacup to look like a rat, you got to start from square zero - you’re changing the purpose of the object, and so the form will follow.”
your eyebrows furrow, “so, square zero. a rat is a rat and a teacup is a teacup. they are not the same, so to change one i have to inherently change the purpose first.”
sungho smiles, “something like that. however you understand it.”
you take a deep breath in and shut your eyes shut again. your magic comes to life as you hold it around the teacup. this time, you let sungho’s words guide you. a rat's purpose is to live and become the rat king, so you must rebuild a cup into a form that can serve that purpose. the porcelain becomes bone, and the hollow inside is filled with a heart and organs and flesh interiors that allows the rat to live. you let yourself think of the rat - a tail for balance, paws to grip. a static form brought to motion - to life.
the teacup shivers.
it begins closing in onto itself, growing whiskers and fur. the handle twists and turns until it resembles a tail, and you feel your magic jump from palm to palm as it sparks and sings, changing alongside the teacup.
when you open your eyes, a rat squeaks and twitches its whiskers at you.
“oh my god!” you gasp at the rat, “i did it!”
“who did what?” professor lee drowsily asks from behind his desk, “one of you nimwits did it? well, colour me surprised. see, it’s all about knowing the rat - treasuring the rat, and its all about…”
you tune out his rant as you shake sungho by his shoulders, “i did it!”
“yeah, you did,” he’s already grinning at you, “all you needed was a different perspective.”
“who knew architecture could be so useful,” you throw your hands into the air.
sungho laughs, “well, they’re kind of the same. magic and architecture - understanding how things are built, why they’re built that way, and what makes them function.”
the two of you watch as the tiny rat begins grooming its face with its paws.
“you just have to stop being burdened by what you think you should be,” he says quietly, “just because your mom was a witch and everything was easy for her, doesn’t mean you have to be the same.”
he pokes the rat with his pencil and it squeaks indignantly, “maybe you just needed a little outside perspective.”
when you finally look over at sungho, he has already went back to scribbling in his notebook, but you can see how he hides his smile behind the paper and you giggle at him.
“thank you,” you say softly.
“it was all you,” he says non-chalantly, “besides, isn’t that what friends are for?”
he looks up, suddenly shy, “we’re friends, right?”
friends, the word expands inside your chest, not because he wasn’t your friend, but the feeling of deja vu that hits you again.
“‘course we are,” you give him your brightest smile.
sungho smiles back at you and you shake the feeling off and look back at your rat.
“oh, no - please come back!” you lunge for your teacup-turned-rat, who has decided to take a hike down the table leg.
sungho laughs, and the bright sound of that makes you laugh too, even as your rat escapes your grasps and makes your entire row of students shriek.
you’re still buzzing after class.
“wait, i need to show you the snow globe mom invented! she’s an inventor - all sorts of weird potions and gadgets. when you shake it, it shows you the place your happiest memory is.”
you drag sungho behind you as you spiel off the rest of your mother’s inventions - a pair of shoes that changes to fit the wearer and the occasion no matter what; a cactus plant that wakes up every year on the eve of your birthday to sing happy birthday; a whisk that can move itself around (‘that’s just a stand mixer’ sungho says, ‘i don’t know what that is’, you reply confidently).
your door eases open as you approach it, and sungho stares at it warily, “it won’t try to throw me down the corridor, will it?”
“not while i’m here,” you say cheerfully, beckoning him in and digging through your trunk for said snow globe.
you produce it with a flourish - “here it is!”
you shake it, and as the snow falls the scenery turns into your bedroom - your favourite place in the world. a miniature you is snoring away on the bed and just outside the door you can see your mother peeking in.
“try it!” you shove it into sungho’s hands and he shakes it hesitantly. as the snow settles, you see his place as a gently sloped hill, filled with daises and wildflowers. at the top, a large tree provides shade for two small figures entangled in each other's embrace.
“aww, cute! is that you?” you peer at the miniature figurines.
sungho looks stupefied, “it is.”
“who’s the other one?”
sungho looks at you strangely and you backtrack, “sorry, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna.”
“it’s a childhood friend,” sungho starts, “i just haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“oh, that’s sad,” you frown, “i’m sure you’ll see her again soon!”
“yeah,” sungho stares at you, “i’m sure i will, and i hope she doesn’t hate me.”
you beam at him, “sungho, who could hate someone like you?”
he scratches his cheek shyly, “i’ve been told i’m unsavoury sometimes.”
before you can figure out what to say in reply, a black cat darts between your legs, nearly tripping you. sungho’s hand shoots out to steady you as you stumble on your feet.
taesan weaves himself between your legs, purring loudly.
“taesan!” you gasp, “i thought i told you to hide when people are around!”
taesan just meows, and his orange eyes fix onto sungho.
“woah, your cat looks like it bites,” sungho jokes, stepping back and letting his hand fall.
“he’s just a little over-protective,” you grunt as you scoop taesan up in your hands, despite his size, he’s heavy, “aren’t you, my taesanie?”
taesan purrs, sungho swears he’s shooting smug looks at him.
“no, i just think he hates me,” sungho says simply, “maybe he knows i’m allergic to cats.”
“you are?” you look horrified as you quickly set taesan down on your bed, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know.”
“it’s fine,” sungho laughs, “but i should go before i start sneezing all over your room. besides, i have a meeting with a professor about the effects of flying buttresses in a magical context in… ten minutes.”
“sounds complicated,” you grin.
“i’ll teach you about it,” sungho returns the grin, “see you tomorrow?”
“yeah, ‘course,” your voice dips, “and thank you for today. i couldn’t have done it without you.”
sungho’s expressions soften, and something unreadable appears in his eyes, “you would have done it with or without me, you’ve always been like that. amazing.”
been. you let that word die on your tongue. sungho speaks like he knows who you are, who you were.
but that’s impossible. you’ve never met him before.
“see you tomorrow, [y/n],” sungho says softly
he patters out of your room, leaving the snow globe on your bedside table, and you watch him go, feeling that strange flutter in your chest again. that sense of something you can't quite name.
taesan meows loudly, bringing your attention back to him.
"what? don't look at me like that - he helped me transfigure a teacup into a rat today,"
taesan's expression is deeply skeptical for a cat.
"okay, sorry i forgot to bring you the rat as your dinner,” you roll your eyes, muttering under your breath, “you're a cat. what do you know about feelings?”
taesan, if he could talk, would probably have a lot to say about feelings.
“taesanie?” you look up from your homework as the black cat leaps into the common room through the window sill.
“you know you’re not supposed to go out by yourself!” you scold him, grabbing him by his collar as you shut the window closed behind him.
“and your paws are all muddy! seriously,” you produce a wet rag from your bag and he meows as you clean his paws, eyes staring innocently at you.
“your feline charms are not going to work on me,” you warn, even though you’re already producing a snack from the pocket of your cardigan.
taesan purrs happily and snaps up your offering, jumping off the table onto the floor. he surveys around the area, on alert, before he jumps onto your chair and nudges his way into your lap, sticking his head into himself as he curls himself into a ball.
“hey, [y/n],” sungho suddenly appears, behind the door. there’s a prominent frown on his face.
“have you seen a research paper around here? its about the effects of carved spells on columns of the greco-roman period.”
you shake your head no.
“what’s wrong?” you watch as sungho ruffles his hair in frustration as he looks wildly around the common room.
“i think i left my paper here last night, next to my model,” he sighs, “but now i can’t find it.”
he sets his stack of books and rolled up blueprints down on the table with a sigh.
“i have an extra copy, but this sucks.”
“i’ll help you look for it,” you offer, shooing taesan off your lap as you stand up, and taesan lets out a meow of disapproval, ending up on the floor as he glares at sungho - seemingly the source of all his problems.
“thanks,” sungho offers you a tight smile as he crouches to look under benches and tables.
thud. the sudden sound makes you jump and you whip around to see sungho’s books scattered across the floor.
“i didn’t realise the table was enchanted,” you frown.
sungho stares at taesan “i think your cat pushed my books off the table.”
taesan, who has made his way up the table in the time you had turn back turned around, licks his paw.
“taesan?” you furrow your brow, “he wouldn’t do that.”
“i literally saw him with my own eyes,” sungho insists, approaching taesan, who quickly hisses at him and leaps off the table to hide behind your legs.
“the table probably thought your books were too heavy or something and threw them off,” you scratch taesan under the chin. sungho just sighs and gives you a defeated look.
you two end up giving up on the search for his paper, having checked every nook and cranny of the room (‘the cleaners probably threw it out,’ you say, ‘they’re dustpans, they can’t see.’)
“shit,” sungho curses under his breath as he unfurls his blueprints.
“what’s it this time?”
you lean over as sungho presents his blueprint with an unimpressed look. muddy pawprints track over his drawings and they look suspiciously like… taesan’s.
the two of you stare at your cat curled up at the corner of the table, who suddenly begins snoring out of nowhere.
“maybe a cat got in through your window?” you offer.
“our rooms are on the third floor,” sungho deadpans.
you shake taesan awake, and his ears flattened as he unfurls to glare at you.
“don’t look at me like that,” you frown, “did you do this, kitty?”
you point to sungho’s ruined blueprint.
taesan yawns.
“see, he didn’t do it!”
sungho looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, “do you guys have telepathy or something?”
“i’ll - i’ll magic it away for you!” you wave your hands at sungho’s blueprints and the paw prints slowly fade.
“you’re lucky she’s a witch,” sungho grumbles to taesan, who just hisses at him, tail puffed up.
“okay, there!” you proudly say, the paw prints are gone.
“thanks,” sungho says curtly, picking up his pencil again.
“i’m sorry about taesan,” you grab sungho’s hand in apology and he blushes.
taesan makes a retching noise and the two of you quickly draw your hands back.
“is he going to throw up?” sungho says worriedly.
“um,” to your knowledge, taesan has never thrown up, despite how he likes to clean himself every few hours, “i don’t know.”
the two of you watch in horror as taesan makes a choking noise before coughing out bits of paper.
greek, carved, columns.
you register the words still visible in the torn up paper.
“did taesan eat my essay?” sungho says, incredulous.
taesan burps, and another paper drifts down from his mouth.
you wake up gasping - you have been for the past two nights. your mind and heart races as you try to recollect yourself.
taesan is on your chest immediately, purring loudly and shoving his head under your chin.
“what’s going on?” you rub at your eyes and your hand comes away wet.
you remember the taste of fruit on your tongue, and crying - about waiting for someone who never came, about a sadness so overwhelming you wanted to tear it out of yourself, put it in a box, lock it up, and never see it again.
you scratch behind taesan’s ears in thought.
“just a nightmare,” you whisper to him.
but you’ve never been that sad before, and your pillow is wet with tears you don’t remember shedding.
“you’ll stay with me, won’t you?” you give him a soft kiss on the forehead and taesan mrrows in agreement.
sungho finds you in the courtyard, your eyes squeezed shut as a plate sits on the bench next to you.
“tough day?” he offers, and you open your eyes. the yolk of the setting sun frames his face and it turns his blond hair gold.
“yeah,” you offer him a tired smile, “how did you find me?”
sungho shrugs, “i have my ways.”
he presents a pack of chocolate buttons - “for you.”
“wait, these are my favourite!” you grab the packet from his hands, “how did you know?”
“lucky guess,” sungho grins at you as you enthusiastically tear open the packet and drop a few into your mouth. he shakes his head when you offer him one.
“what’s wrong? can’t levitate plates?”
“i did it in class,” you frown, “once. but i can’t do it now.”
“you know, us normies just use our hands,” sungho picks up the plate to sit next to you on the bench, “it’s revolutionary, i know.”
you puff your cheeks out, “not helping!”
“here,” sungho gently sets down the plate on your lap, “a magic trick, for you.”
despite everything, you laugh with him - it’s easy to laugh with sungho, you realise. he always knows what to say, and his laugh is infectious.
“but seriously,” sungho quiets down, “you’re doing great - you’re doing stuff people took ages to learn. some people can barely levitate a feather, much less a plate.”
he reaches out to poke your cheek, “don’t get too upset.”
you stare down at the plate, and your reflection stares back at you through the polished surface.
for a second, your reflection looks wrong. sadder, more angry. it’s like you're looking at someone you don't recognize. you blink and your reflection returns to normal. you squint and plate-you does too.
“maybe i need a break,” you rub at your eyes, you must be so tired you’re hallucinating, “i’ve been up since… since 10pm last night.”
horror fills your voice as you realise just how long you’ve spent trying to levitate a stupid plate.
sungho laughs gently, and he shrugs off his jacket to wrap it around you, “come on, try to get some shut eye, you deserve it.”
sungho didn’t expect you to actually fall asleep.
your head has found its way onto his shoulder, and sungho tries not to move an inch, despite how dead his arm is.
he studies your face, bathed in the warm glow of sunset. you look the same as all those years ago, even down to the way your eyelids flutter and the way you mutter incoherent things under your breath as you sleep.
sungho remembers the persimmon tree you two used to sit under, just at the edge of town. you’d goad him into picking the persimmons off the tree when they were ripe - because he was always taller than you, and he remember the way you split the fruit cleanly in half with a flick of your wrist and shared it with him, juice dripping down your wrists and staining his school clothes.
“look, sungho!” you called, yanking twelve year old him out of his daze of weaving the daisy crown you insisted he do, “i told you i could do magic!”
“woah,” he reaches out to touch the leaf floating in between your hands, and it twirls, completely unaffected by gravity.
“how do you do it?” twelve-year-old sungho tilted his head, “i want to try, too.”
“you just close your eyes -” you squeeze your eyes shut in demonstration, “and imagine it in your head!”
sungho screwed his eyes shut and held out his hands like you, imagining a leaf floating in between, but when he opened his eyes the space between his palms remained empty.
“i don’t think i have magic,” sungho says dejectedly, “i want to be a witch, too!”
“well, i want to be good at maths too!” you let the leaf fall to the ground, “so we’re even!”
but sungho thinks being good at magic is so much cooler than being good at maths. being good at maths meant you had to win competitions and stay up til midnight completing complicated questions. being good at maths means that your mom would only smile at you when you got first in class and that you’re already looking forward to bigger, brighter, and better things, even if all you want to do is stay in your little town with people you like and fish on the weekends.
“my mom wants me to start piano,” sungho pulls at the grass at his feet, “says it makes me more well-rounded in applications.”
“do you want to learn piano?” you ask, picking up a daisy to weave into the crown that you’ve picked up off his lap.
sungho paused, “no, not really.” he said honestly. no one’s ever asked him that before.
“then don’t do it,” you say confidently, so simply, as if it was that easy. you finish the daisy crown and plop it onto his head, crooked and imperfect and falling into his eyes, “there, now you’re the king of not doing anything you don’t want to do.”
sungho laughed, and you laughed with him. under the persimmon tree, everything was simple - and for just a few hours, sungho could pretend he was the king of not doing anything he doesn’t want to do.
sungho’s heart aches at the memory - the one only he remembers, apparently. when he first set eyes on you at the dining hall, he knew immediately. but you seemed to have forgotten him completely, and he’s scared that the memories he’s treasured all these years was just a bygone thought for you.
the persimmons were ripe every autumn, orange bulbs hanging from green.he wondered if you went back every autumn to pick them, even after he left.
he looks at you now, and even if you weren’t that grubby kid anymore, everytime you laughed, it was like he was right back under that persimmon tree with the girl that gave him daisies and made him feel like he didn’t need to pretend to be anything more than himself.
he had liked you then. maybe even loved you, in the way twelve-year-olds love - clumsy, earnest, and too big for his chest.
he guessed the feeling never really left. not even when his parents suddenly told him they were moving to the city. not even when he couldn’t find the time to say goodbye. not even when he spent years wondering if you remembered him at all.
and now he knows you don’t. maybe forgetting him was easier than missing him.
you mutter something that sounds like ‘stupid plate’ and sungho can’t help but smile.
“you’ll get it tomorrow,” he whispers, careful not to wake you, “you’re doing great - better than great. because you’re -”
you.
he lets the unspoken hang in the air.
the sun is nearly gone now, and stars begin to peek through the sky. sungho knows that he should probably wake you up - even with his jacket, you’ll get cold, and you’ll complain about the ache in your neck when you wake up because you’ve decided to sleep in the most uncomfortable position ever. but sungho is selfish. he finds himself craving just a little more time - just a few more minutes of pretending you’re the girl from under the persimmon tree, and not strangers that just met a few days ago.
he’s about to pull the jacket around you tighter when he feels it - it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and goosebumps dot his skin. the air changes, charged with something that makes his skin crawl.
sungho looks up, and there’s a man standing a few feet away.
he’s taller - probably taller than sungho. lean, with sharp features. cold hostility radiates off of him, and sungho dully registers the cat ears on his head.
cat ears?
they twitch as if he could read sungho’s mind, and a tail from behind him starts swishing in clear agitation.
something clicks.
“you,” sungho breathes out slowly.
the man’s eyes - brown but tinged with copper, narrows.
“get away from her.”
his warning is delivered through gritted teeth.
sungho’s mind races. the cat. [y/n]’s familiar. he’s heard about this before, where particularly strong familiars can switch between forms. the man’s the same cat that’s been glaring at him, pushing his books off the table, drinking from his mug, and making his life miserable.
“you’re taesan,” sungho deduces. his voice is quiet, you’re still asleep against his shoulder, breathing softly.
“and you’re the annoying pain in the ass who won’t leave her alone,” taesan takes a step towards sungho, danger in his movement, “you need to stay away from her.”
“i don’t take orders from a domestic pet,” sungho’s hands curl into fists, but he forces himself to stay still as to not wake you, “you’ve been terrorising me in cat form, and now you’re here to make verbal threats as a cat - cat man?”
taesan’s tail fluffs up and it lashes.
“i’m protecting her,” the corners of his mouth twitches, “from people who don’t belong in her life.”
“you don't get to decide that for [y/n].”
“don’t say her name,” taesan hisses, voice cold, “i’m her familiar. it’s my duty and purpose to protect her.”
taesan scoffs, “and you? you’re a distraction at best, a danger at worst.”
sungho’s jaw clenches, “a danger? how am i a danger? i would never hurt her.”
“but you already have.”
taesan’s words hit sungho like a truck.
“i’m her familiar - i’ve felt the things she’s felt. the memories she doesn’t remember? i do. now you show up - all laughing and carefree. acting like you have any right to be near her, to make her smile. to -” he gaze drops to where you lean against sungho’s shoulder and he scrunches up his nose with disgust, “to let her sleep next to you.”
“i was twelve,” sungho hisses, trying his best to keep his voice down low, “i didn’t want to leave her behind.”
taesan’s eerie brown eyes drill into sungho’s, relentless.
“it’s been ten years. you could’ve found her, but you didn’t. talk about lack of effort.”
“i tried,” sungho protested, “i called the number but no one ever answered. when i went back two summers ago, i couldn’t even find your house. it was just an endless forest and a path that winded back to the start. i came onto this architecture programme because it was my only ticket back to her. and now that i’m here i’m not letting her go.”
“too little too late,” taesan takes a step forward, “she doesn’t need you now. she has me.”
“she has a pet cat, that’s what,” sungho shoots back, and taesan’s eyes flashes.
“see, this is what happens when a human like you pretends to know anything about us,” taesan’s voice drops, “i’m the one who’s been by her side every day. i was literally born to protect her. i’m the one who comforts her when she cries and the only one who can protect her from things you can’t even begin to fathom. you don’t belong here - you don’t deserve to be next to her.”
sungho feels his control slipping and he tries to relax by unclenching his fist, “you can’t tell me what i can or can’t do. i belong here, next to her, wherever she is.”
“no, you’re wrong,” taesan warns, “you? you belong in your human world, with your dinky little normie offices and your normal buildings and your human weaknesses. you can’t do magic. tell me - how are you going to protect her from things you can’t even see? you can’t be what she needs.”
“you talk a lot of smack,” sungho’s voice rises slightly, and he has to actively remind himself to keep it down, “but you’re wrong. you keep saying protection like it's all about magic and power - some sort of protective shell. but she doesn’t need that - she needs a person. you were born to protect her. i choose to. every single day, i throw myself into a world that doesn’t accept me and choose to be here for her. you can guard her life all you want, but i want to be a part of it. and that’s something your stupid magic - your duty can never give her.”
“you chose to leave her.”
“you think i did?” sungho’s tone is cold, “if i could choose, i’d stay. but i was a kid.”
“and she was a kid who cried herself to sleep, every night,” taesan’s voice is louder now, “you left her behind - she waited for years under that tree until she forgot why she was even there. every time she saw a shooting star - she’d wish for you to come back. but you never did. she eventually lost all hope when you stopped writing.”
sungho’s blood runs cold.
taesan’s face twists as he realises he said something he shouldn’t.
“i wrote to her every week,” sungho starts lowly, “until she stopped replying and i thought she didn’t want to hear from me anymore. what do you mean i stopped writing?”
taesan’s face is quickly overtaken by guilt before he steels himself, “i got rid of them before she got to them. she didn’t need your extra baggage. i could feel it, the way your letters just tore at her and made her worse. she got ill - the grief and longing was physically afflicting her. she used to be able to float plate after plate with just her mind and teleport a croissant from paris right into her hands. but after you left, her magic grew unstable. i had to cut the pain at the source, and the memories were so painful for her she locked it up.”
sungho feels sick. all this time, he just thought it was you being forgetful - not remembering anything from when you were so young. you never got his letters - you had thought he abandoned you. you thought all those awful things until it hurt so much you’d rather forget it.
“so,” taesan continues, “you need to leave her alone. you’ve already broken her once. i won’t let you do it again.”
“i’m not going to. if you hadn’t thrown away those letters in the first place then -”
“you’ll leave eventually. your exchange programme will end and you’ll go back to your ugly city blocks and your normie life. you’ll leave, and she’ll mourn what you had and be hurt again.”
“i’m not leaving her,” sungho says firmly, “not again. not when i finally found her.”
“you speak like you have a choice -”
“i do,” sungho interrupts, unflinching, “that’s what you’re not getting. i have a choice, and i choose her. i’ll defer my degree, drop out, whatever it takes. i’m staying because i want to. because i -”
he cuts himself off, but the sentence hisses in the moonlight and finishes itself.
because i love her.
taesan’s eyes narrow, “blah blah blah. words are easy - you can say them all you want but you don’t have to mean any of it. you said so much back then, what makes it different this time?”
“i’m not twelve anymore,” sungho’s voice is steel, “i’ve spent every day these past ten years trying to find her, regretting my uselessness - how i couldn’t find my way back to her. i tried every single way and now i’m here. do you think some overprotective cat is going to scare me away?”
“scare?” taesan scoffs, “i’m warning you, stay away from her, or else i’ll -”
“what?” sungho challenges, “knock over my cup? throw up a furball in my food? eat my other papers? there’s a lot where that came from. i know the rules - a familiar can’t hurt humans without cause or approval from their bonded witch.”
taesan smiles, “i don’t need to draw blood to get you to leave.”
“you can try,” sungho’s voice is steady, “give me your worst. i’m not going anywhere. i’ve lost her once already, i’m not -”
“sungho?”
the two of them freeze.
your voice is still thick with sleep, and you stir against sungho’s chest.
“what’s happening?”
sungho catches how a look of panic runs across taesan’s face.
“[y/n] -” sungho starts, but taesan is already moving.
in a blur, taesan’s form shimmers, and there’s an audible pop as he pops into his black cat form, landing gracefully on the bench.
a small puff of glitter explodes in the air, catching the moonlight and dusting the grass in silver.
“what’s -” you rub at your eyes, “taesan?”
the cat meows instantly, padding over and headbutting your hand.
“i thought i heard -” you look around, “heard…”
you trail off, suddenly hyperaware you’re laying on sungho’s chest.
you pull back as if you’ve been electrocuted, a hand wiping at your mouth.
“i didn’t drool, did i?” you asked, slightly horrified.
“no,” sungho replies, but he’s staring at the cat - taesan, who is now cheesing it up and purring into your palm like he’s the most innocent creature in the world. but his copper eyes flash at sungho and he gets the message: not a word.
“did you see how he got out?” you frown, rubbing his forehead, when you pull away, your finger is coated in glitter, “i know i locked the door before leaving.”
“he just -” sungho guestures helplessly, “appeared and -”
“ugh, taesan! you gotta stop teleporting!” you sigh, and taesan just flicks his ears playfully, “and stop leaving glitter everywhere! i swear - i wake up every day and there’s still glitter in my hair, no matter how many showers i take!”
“[y/n], listen to me. you’re familiar with how - uh, familiars can turn into different things right? taesan isn’t just a cat, he’s also -”
“a pain in the ass,” you nod sagely, “but he’s my pain in the ass.”
you scoop taesan up and he settles into your arm, looking incredibly pleased with himself, “aren’t you, kitty?”
taesan purrs in agreement.
sungho opens his mouth, at a loss for words. he closes it. opens it again.
how should he start? your cat can turn into a human and he threatened me and also revealed he kept intercepting the letters i sent to you? he’s actually evil and you need to kick him out? actually i’m your childhood friend and i basically scoured the whole world just to find you again because i’m in love with you?
“are you okay?” you shoot him a concerned look, “you’re doing that thing again with your hands.”
he realises he’s been running his thumb over his knuckles and he stops abruptly.
“i’m fine,” he finally manages, “thought i saw something, that’s all.”
“maybe you’re the tired one,” you laugh, still holding taesan. sungho’s jacket is slipping off your shoulders.
“whoops. sorry - here.”
sungho takes his jacket back mechanically. he can still see taesan’s eyes, orange and knowing and self-congratulatory.
“thanks, by the way,” you say as casually as you can manage, “for the chocolate. and the jacket. and letting me sleep. i feel a lot better now.”
“anytime,” sungho gives you his best smile, electing to ignore taesan’s loud purring.
you gasp, “maybe i can finally levitate that plate now!”
you look around and frown, “where’s it gone?”
sungho shrugs, he’s lost all sense of surroundings when taesan suddenly appeared.
“oh well,” you sigh, “see you tomorrow? study group?”
“of course,” sungho stares at taesan, “but maybe don’t bring the cat.”
he sneezes and your face drops.
“right, sorry,” you slap a hand against your forehead, “i forgot you were allergic!”
“tomorrow,” you promise, “it’ll just be us.”
sungho gives you a soft smile, “okay.”
you turn to walk away, taesan still in your arms. but just before you disappear out of sight, the cat looks back at sungho over your shoulder - a warning.
sungho watches you go, and his hands curl into fists.
“goddamnit!” he punches the wall and immediately regrets it, the pain reverberating up his arm. he winces as he sits down heavily on the bench.
his shoulder is still warm from where your head was resting, and his jacket smells like you. he wonders if you still like persimmons.
he’ll stay by your side. he’ll make you laugh tomorrow - and the day after that, and every day after. he’s not going anywhere, not even if your magical cat threatens him.
sungho brushes off the glitter on his jacket with contempt, patting it down with more force than necessary.
the abandoned north wings smells like dust, ancient magic, and mold.
it’s not the fanciest place to practice magic, but it's quiet, and no one’s around. you let yourself mess up without fear of watching eyes and you get to feel magic do absolutely nothing when you try to manipulate it to your desires without feeling embarrassed.
taesan yawns as he settles at a windowsill, bathing in a ray of sunlight slipping through the glass.
you’ve successfully levitated plates with just your mind now, and you can open any locked thing with a thought. you’re working on memory spells now - the same kind your mom used when creating that snow globe that still flutters with white snow and changing scenes on your window sill.
the magic itself is simple enough - pulling from the strands of magic that weave through the air and drawing out memories. you coax thoughts and memories forward, that part was easy, but pinpointing a specific memory to manifest in your mind like a photograph being developed was the tricky part.
you practice on taesan, closing your eyes and letting your fingers gently move into the magic radiating off him - it’s soft, but familiar, the two of you share similar signatures thanks to your bond. you run your hands over the strands of magic emanating from him and gently pull one towards you. instantly, the dark before your eyes is replaced with taesan’s point of view, low on the ground as he jumps towards a butterfly fluttering in front of him and falling before he could even graze it. he lets out a frustrated meow as anger floods through you and you giggle, cracking open an eye. taesan’s tail flicks in irritation on the window - displeased that, of all memories you’ve pulled, you’ve pulled an embarrassing one.
“sorry, kitty,” you poke him in the side and he turns his nose up at you, purposefully looking out the window, away from you.
you raise your hand again, this time finding your own hum in the discord.
gently, pull. remember.
several sensations fly through you as you tug on memories. the taste of persimmon fills your emotion and an ache for something overwhelms your heart.
you gasp - opening your eyes, but the sensations don’t stop, and your vision blurs in front of you.
a hill, the daisy petals dotting green grass. someone’s laughing in your ear and you’re laughing back at him.
pain strikes through your skull as you break through your illusions. the shadows on the wall have grown, and the memories scatter like broken glass. the air is thick with the feeling of something wrong.
it’s cold, heavy, and hungry.
the shadows begin to move as one, towards you.
“wh - what’s happening,” you gasp, head still spinning. you faintly register the danger and your hand instinctively raises - the magic in the room has grown thicker, more discordant, and there’s another distinct magic signal in this room that smells like danger.
the shadows coalesce - rising from the floor, creeping down from the wall. it twists and writhes and bends in onto itself. the shapes it bends itself into are puzzling, and the longer you stare the more it hurts you - the ringing in your head getting louder.
it finally takes form, and you realise with horror the shadow has taken a form of - you. ten year old you, curled up in a ball, your eyes filled with tears and hollow.
“no,” you whisper, “what - what are you?”
‘he left. he abandoned you.’
the voices - your voice, growls.
“huh?” the pressure in your skull grows, and you collapse to your knees, hands flying to your temple.
‘he left. he promised you and then he left.’
“what are you talking about?” you blubber, kicking yourself away from the shadows. your magic sparks urgently and you raise your hand, expelling that spark outwards. a blazing white hot orb is sent flying in their direction, but the darkness swallows up the light easily, the shadowy mass relentless in its pursuit of you.
‘you were probably too much. he probably forgot all about you. he never came back. no matter how hard you wished.’
“stop it,” you grit your teeth, pushing out against their magic signal with your own. you don’t know what they’re talking about, but the pain between your eyes is unbearable and you’re losing feelings in your legs. the banishing spell ripples through the air, whistling as it shoots towards the threat.
the spell hits the shadowy mass, and it disperses - only to reform immediately. closer now.
their magic hits you - it grabs at you and pulls, tugs, until you unravel. it’s like you’re being hollowed out from the inside, scraping until you’re an empty shell. you gasp for air and throw your hands out, a ring of fire erupts in the air, crackling hot and illuminating.
but it passes through the shadow like it’s smoke.
‘unwanted. abandoned. left behind.’
“stop it!” you sob as you feel it get closer, it’s cold tendrils wrapping around your heart, black creeps into your vision. it draws out emotions you’ve long forgotten - grief, loneliness, sadness. it overwhelms you like a tidal wave and you’re unable to fight back, crashing against rocks and thrown by the waves.
“you’re not real, you’re not real,” you repeat, mind scrambled but reaching for something - a spell that eliminates illusions, a curse that exorcises abstract threats.
‘we’re very real. we’re you. can’t you see?’
they reach for you with fingers that aren’t quite fingers. and where it brushes up against you, you feel cold. the cold of lonely nights, unanswered letters, and every moment of wondering why you weren’t enough for him to stay.
you try to move away, further from the figure, further from the pain, further from the anguish. but it consumes you.
“taesan -” you gasp. you weren’t even sure why you were calling for him. he can’t help, he’s just a cat -
taesan’s yowl cuts through the air.
your small black cat appears behind the shadowy mass, his fur is standing on end and his tail bristled, angrily swishing back and forth. his copper eyes gleam and it clears your head momentarily.
“taesan - no, you have to run!” you try to yell, but your voice is hoarse and small, and taesan never listens to you much anyways. he launches himself at the mass and it recoils, and he lands in front of you, hissing as he bares his teeth.
taesan’s magic warps under your hands, changing into something you’ve never felt from him before. it floods the room you feel it thrum in harmony with your’s, amplifying it, complimenting it, resonating with it.
light explodes around taesan - not silver glitter, but pure white energy that singes your hair and makes you squeeze your eyes shut. you feel a tug on your own magic and when you open your eyes -
there’s a man crouched where your cat was.
“what the hell?” you mumble, but instinctively you know it’s taesan - your stupid black cat. and if you weren’t completely sure, a pair of cat ears nestled in his dark hair and his tail lashes angrily behind him confirmed it all. his tail nicks you with his fur as he growls again, this time deeper - more human.
"get away from her," taesan - because it couldn’t be anyone else, snarls.
‘oh, look. a familiar and a witch. such delicious devotion. such fear of loss.’
“i said,” taesan’s ears twitches, “to stay away from her.”
magic explodes from his hands, wrapping around the masses like silver ribbons as it squirms and howls.
“taesan?” you gasp, and he quickly turns his eyes onto you. his orange eyes has mellowed into a dark brown. up close, he's striking. sharp cheekbones. intense eyes. those cat ears twitching with agitation. his expression is laced with urgency, protectiveness, and desperation.
“[y/n], look at me,” there’s a pleading tone in his voice as he drops to his knees near you and cups your cheeks with his hands, “you know what these are, right? we - you learnt about them in class last week.”
“shadow parasites,” you say almost instinctively, “they feed on negative emotions like loneliness.”
“that’s right,” taesan nods.
“so they’re not real, they’re all in here,” he taps your forehead, “and here,” he taps the place where your heart would be.
‘you can't destroy us.’ the masses shriek. ‘we are her loneliness. her pain. her buried memories. we are what she tried to forget.’
“don’t listen to them,” taesan insists, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “you need to remember you’re strong enough. that you aren’t alone. you’ve never been alone. i’m here. i’ll always be here.”
‘liar!’ the masses sing-song, still struggling within his silver bands. you hate how it sounds like you. ‘you’re bound to her - you don’t have a choice!’
“no,” taesan says, directly at you, “my duty is not my devotion. i might have been born by your side, but i stay because -”
he cuts himself off, jaws clenching.
the shadows laugh, discordant and escaping through cracks in the glass of the window like wind.
‘you love her. oh, how wonderful! how painful.’
you watch as taesan’s ears flatten against his head and you realise.
oh.
“taesan,” you say through swirling emotions.
his emotions leaks into your own - love, fear, anger, and sorrow.
taesan’s eyes bore into yours - vulnerable, raw.
“i should’ve told you earlier,” his jaw sets, “should’ve shown you sooner. i thought it was going to be safer if all you thought i was just a cat. i thought i could protect you and take away all the bad things you’ve felt. i couldn’t be selfish - i couldn’t complicated us and burden you with my feelings, i couldn’t ruin what we already had.”
he swallows harshly.
‘carrying someone’s grief - for a person who just thinks of you as her cat!’ the shadows cackle. they’ve broken out of taesan’s restraints and are now circling you two, sneering. ‘she can’t love you, you aren’t even human! you’re just a familiar, a pet -’
“that’s enough,” you snarl, pushing your hand onto taesan’s very human, very real chest. you feel his heartbeat and magic thrum in tandem under your fingers and you feel the familiar hum of the magic that binds him to you, and you to him. his magic connects with your’s, interweaving and complementary in a way that you’ve never felt with anyone else.
you squeeze your eyes through and reach for that familiar hum - feelings & memories flood your brain.
every morning, making your bed because you forgot to. every night, patrolling your room and sniffing corner for threats. every time you cried, he’d swipe his tail under your nose so you laughed, and every time you laughed, a warm feeling flooded his chest. every time you said ‘i love you’ to him, and all he could do was meow and hope you could feel the ‘i love you more’ in it. every time you were scared or angry or confused, all he wanted to do was to help you, protect you. and every time you said “taesanie” his tail would immediately go up embarrassingly high, and every time you mumbled about how he was the only one who understood you, and he thought ‘yes, yes, always. i’ll always understand you -’
“i’m not alone,” you whisper, “you’ve always been there, you’ve always been -”
yours,” taesan finishes, “i’ll always be yours.”
taesan grabs your hand and your magic flows through your bond, amplified by his. you pull - not your memories, but his. every moment he’s been there. every time he’s decided to stay with you, protected you.
the magic fills the room, singing in harmony as it surrounds you and taesan. proof that you’ve never been alone, that there’s nothing for the shadow parasite to feed on.
the parasite shrieks, attacked by the blinding light as it shrinks back onto itself. shadows dissipate, scatter, and flee, leaving only you and taesan in the suddenly silent room.
the magic fades and you start coughing violently, tipping over. taesan catches you with practiced ease and holds you in his arms.
“i’m okay,” you cough.
“you’re okay,” taesan affirms, “i’m here.”
your hands are shaking and you can no longer feel your magic hum in the air. you’re completely drained and your head is pounding. but you’re safe now.
because taesan’s here, like he always have been.
“taesan,” you manage. you weren’t sure what to say. thank you? it’s okay? what was that? i’m tired?
“shh, don’t talk,” taesan’s voice is filled with worry, “you’ve completely drained yourself.”
“you’re not a cat,” you blurt.
he manages to give you a crooked smile, “no, i’m not.”
“then you’re…” you think about how you should complete that sentence. my familiar? my protector? in love with me…?
“i’m your familiar,” taesan says quietly, his voice fringed with carefulness, like he’s trying to not ask for more than that, “i am bound to protect you, and that will never change.”
“but you’re -” you’re too tired to string words together into a sentence, “cat ears.”
you point vaguely at his head.
taesan’s ears flick, self-conscious, “yes.”
“but human.”
“brilliant observation skills,” he can’t help himself.
your head still spins, unsure on what to feel. your cat is a human, and he just indirectly confessed his probably undying love for you. and even if that’s true, you’ve known him as a cat - something simple, safe, and uncomplicated.
except, now, nothing is simple, nothing is safe, nothing is uncomplicated.
“you need to rest,” taesan mumbles, “i know this is a lot, and you’re exhausted, don’t you know how dangerous it is to drain your magic?”
“you used it to transform,” you mumble.
“i’m sorry,” taesan’s ears drooped, “it was an emergency.”
“i know, it’s okay,” you say simply, because without him, you probably would’ve died.
taesan must’ve felt it too, because his arm tightens around you and you feel a surge of protectiveness grow in your chest from his end, “you don’t need to say anything right now. you don’t have to feel anything. i just need you to be safe.”
“i’m just… adjusting,” you place your hand against his face, just to make sure he’s actually real. his eyes widen in shock and his magic faintly reacts to your touch, “i’ve felt magic from other people before. just not like this.”
“it’s different,” taesan says, “we have a familiar bond. our magic is built to work and complement each other.”
you yawn and taesan smirks.
“you’re tired. you need to rest.”
he stands up and carries you in his arms easily. he feels warm under your skin and the black turtleneck that magically manifested with him when he transformed. his magic hums, comforting and steady.
you study his profile, trying to reconcile this person with the cat you share a bed with every night. the sharpness of his jaw; the way his cat ears swivel, tracking sounds you can’t hear; his brown eyes that flicker between shadows and sudden movement.
he’s still your taesan. but he’s also a person, with feelings and thoughts you’ve never had access to. with a love he’s apparently been carrying for years and devotion so deep it runs in his veins.
you’re at a loss for what to feel.
“taesanie?” you murmur.
“hm?” his reply reverberates in his chest and thrums against you.
“thank you,” you say, “for saving me.”
taesan looks down at you, and you think it's cute that whiskers appear on his face when he smiles.
“always,” he says softly, but the word weighs heavy in the air, a promise - “i’ll always save you, no matter what.”
you’re in the library when sungho finally jumps you.
you’ve been avoiding both him and taesan ever since the attack, mind too scrambled by all the information and late night cramming sessions to make sense of your own emotions. the dreams have come back stronger - sungho’s round face as a kid, the persimmon tree, the hill behind the town - you’re starting to remember what you’ve locked away in your mind all those years ago.
“hello,” sungho says softly, sliding into the seat across from you.
you look up from the book you’re reading (you haven’t really been registering the words, you’ve just been staring at the same page for twenty minutes).
“hi,” you manage.
sungho looks nervous, and he fidgets with something in his hands. you peer over your book and you register it as a worn photograph - edges uneven and colour faded. he runs a finger up and down the edge in anxiousness.
“i need to tell you something,” he rushes out, “and i just need you to listen, please? until i’m done.”
you nod, your throat dry.
sungho takes a deep breath in, “i’ve been hiding something from you. i know you. since we were children. we used to play under the persimmon tree at the back of town. you made me pick the fruits because i was taller, and you’d split it in half with your magic. the juice would get everywhere and make a mess. but i think you don’t remember, or maybe you do, and you just don’t want to acknowledge it.”
you grip the seat of your chair.
“you taught me things,” sungho smiled sadly, “i never could do magic. but you let me feel like i was just sungho, your friend, and nobody else. you made me feel it was okay i wasn’t perfect the first time through and i could do anything i want.”
he slides the photograph over the table, and your eyes widen. it’s you, no doubt about it. gap toothed with flowers in her hair and smiling at the camera. the taste of fruit invades your mouth, sticky and sweet on your tongue.
“i moved when i was twelve,” sungho says softly, voice cracking slightly, “i didn’t want to. i didn’t want to leave my best friend behind. i didn’t have a choice.”
your vision grows hazy the longer you stare at that photo.
“i wrote to you all the time, every week for months. i wrote about the city, and how much i hated it. i wrote about all the mean people in class and how none of them were as cool as you. i wrote about how much i miss you and the time we spent together under tree, and how much i wished moments like those lasted forever,” there’s a stack of letters in sungho’s hands now, sliced open and held together in twine. you can tell it’s well loved, stacked neatly on top of each other.
“but you stopped writing back. i thought it meant you had moved away, or you didn’t want to hear from me anymore - the way i promised to be your friend forever but then left without a goodbye. but i never stopped thinking about you.”
letters, your head hurts, you don't remember getting letters.
“i tried to find you,” sungho rushes out, “i went back to the town two years ago. but the forest kept looping, like it was trying to keep me out. so i applied to every exchange program to edith - i knew you were going to be here, you always talked about how much you wanted to go. i wanted to get back to you.”
he looks up, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears.
“and then - then i saw you. in the dining hall. i knew immediately, you were her,” sungho shakes his head sadly, “but you didn’t remember me. i thought to myself - it’s what i deserved, for leaving you.”
“sungho -” you interrupt him, but he stops you.
“let me finish, please.”
you shut your mouth as sungho carries on.
“i just need you to know - i didn’t come here by accident. i came here for you.” sungho says softly, “these past few weeks have been the best of my entire life. getting to know you again, it was like - like falling in love with you again, or maybe it’s just falling more in love. i’ve loved you since i was a kid.”
the words hang in the air between you, air thick enough you struggle to breathe.
“you don’t need to say anything back,” sungho sighs, but there’s no bitterness, just resignation, “i know about taesan - i know what he feels about you. and i know - i know i can’t compete with him, with someone who has been by your side every single day. someone who’s literally bound to you by magic.”
he reaches across the table, hesitates, then gently takes your hand. his warmth gently seeps into your palm and you look into his eyes - vulnerable, kind, and just full of love for you. your reflection swims in his irises and he gives you a sad smile.
“but i’ve chosen to be here, next to you, and if you’ll let me, i want to stay. i want to be part of your life - not as someone you used to know, but as someone who wants to know more about you, and someone who wants to know about the you tomorrow,and every other you after that.”
his thumb brushes across your knuckles and you don’t pull away.
“sorry, but i just needed to let you know - the truth. all of it,” he whispers.
he gives your hand one final squeeze and releases it. you watch as he rises from his seat and walks away, the photograph laying next to your limp hand, still left on the table.
you sit there in the library, silence weighing on you as memories flash through your mind.
you stare at the photograph. you smiled like the world was simple - how you wish it was.
taesan is sitting on your window sill. he’s in his human form, legs dangling out the window as he surveys the sky.
you feel him before you see him, the pain blossoming in your chest like a bruise that's being pressed on.
"taesan,” you call softly, and his ears flick in acknowledgement, "i talked to sungho.”
“i know,” he says coldly, “i felt it.”
you think about how he probably felt your heartbeat speed up when sungho held your hand, and he probably felt your nervousness as he walked away.
“he told me everything,” you clear your throat, “did you really throw away the letters?”
taesan’s ear flattens against his head and his tail slowly uncurls.
“yeah.”
“why?”
taesan finally looks at you, his brown eyes just sad, “because you were hurting. i could feel it, the way your heart ached every time you read his letters. the way your magic stopped working, and you stopped eating, and all you did was hide under the covers and cry. i couldn’t stand it -”
his voice cracks, “i just wanted you to stop hurting. i’m sorry.”
“he was twelve, taesan.”
“i know,” he says softly, “but i was young too. the only thing i could think about was - how do i protect her from this pain? all i knew back then was that my witch was hurting and i had to do something to make her feel better. so i made it stop, and eventually you stopped crying, and then you stopped remembering.”
“you must’ve been feeling it too,” you murmur. taesan purses his lips and looks away, silence your answer.
“i’m sorry,” you fiddle with the hem of your uniform, “i never - i never wanted you to carry my grief for me.”
“i did it to protect you,” he whispered, barely heard over the wind.
“you can’t protect me from everything, taesan.”
“i know, but i want to try anyway.”
you watch his tail twitch with anxiety as his ear droops even lower.
“you’re going to be happier with sungho,” taesan says, like it’s a fact.
your eyes widen, “what are you saying, taesan?”
“i can feel it,” his tail wraps around him protectively, like it’s shielding him from the self-perceived truth of his own words, “everytime you're with him, he makes you laugh, and he gets your jokes. you feel… like you’re home, like you’ve found something you lost.”
“and that’s okay,” taesan forces himself to say, “i understand. he was here first. and he’s human, like you. he can give you things i can’t. stability, a normal life, a home. a future not bound to a familiar who you can’t get rid off even if you wanted to.”
you surge forward, “taesan! i never would -”
“but what if you do?” he interrupts, taking in a deep breath, “what if you get sick of me, but i can’t even leave you alone?”
he grows quieter, “what if our bond makes what i feel… less real? less valuable?”
his head drops down.
“that’s not true! you said you stayed because you wanted to, isn’t that proof enough?”
“but how can i be sure of that?” he looks at you, his face twisted in a pain only heartbreak can bring, you feel his ache in between your ribs and your mind swims confusingly with a mix of his emotions and your’s.
“if you say you love me, how do i make sure that it isn’t magic forcing you to?” he whispers.
“i don’t know,” he laughs, hollow and empty, “at least with sungho, you know - because there isn’t some type of magic that’s making you fall in love with him. you just chose him because of who he is, and he chose to love you because you’re you. how could i ever compete with something as human as that?”
you don’t have an answer for him, and the bond between you two ache. you place a gentle hand over his that rests on the windowsill and his tail sways.
“i need you to know - it isn’t the bond making me say this,” you finally say, breaking the silence, “but i’m happy that you’re by my side, taesan.”
his eyes flicker to look at your’s, and he finally turns his palms up, intertwining his hands with yours.
“i love you,” he says, so quiet you strain to hear him, “i know, bond or no bond, i’d still love you. i love the way you talk to yourself when you’re concentrating on something, and i love the way you save up to buy me the expensive fatty tuna even though you know i’d eat anything. i love how you mumble in your sleep, kick off the blankets, and then complain about it being cold in the morning.”
he finally looks at you, brown eyes glinting with the silver of the moon, “i love the way you trust me enough to fall asleep next to me, and that you tell me all your secrets and dreams and worries. you’ve always treated me like i matter - that i’m someone, and i’m not just some cat or your familiar.”
“you are someone,” you insist, tears pricking at your waterline, “you’re taesan, you’re -”
“i know,” he says softly, his other hand coming up to wipe away your tears, “thank you. that’s enough for me. it has to be enough.”
“i’m not going to make you choose,” taesan cups your cheek, “i’m not going to guilt you or beg you or cry, because i know it’s hard for you. and the truth is, i’m going to always be here, no matter what happens. it’s not a threat, or a promise, it’s just… fact. i’m always going to be your familiar.”
“i was put on this earth so that one more person could love you, i’m sure of it.”
he smiles at you sadly as he retracts his hand, wet with tears.
“take your time,” he whispers, swallowing harshly, “choose whatever makes you happy.”
before you can reply, his form shimmers. there’s no glitter or lights or theatrics this time, just him fading into the form of a small, black cat, with copper eyes glinting with grief.
he meows softly and head butts your palm - an apology, or goodbye.
then he leaps down gently, in the branches of the tree outside your window, and disappears into the night.
you stand there, holding a pulse that isn’t yours in your palms.
you wonder if it’s okay - if you can give taesan back the love he’s apparently been harbouring for years. if it was okay you complicated the relationship of a familiar and his witch. every time you try to get closer, he shifts away - maybe it’s the fact that you and taesan were woven from the same things - and like repels like.
you don’t even know if you could give him your heart, or if it’s already been claimed by someone else. someone with warm eyes, architecture drawings, and a shared history you’re only beginning to remember.
the thought of sungho sends a different type of feeling through you. it tastes like chocolate buttons and smells of lead against paper. you think about how sungho sees right through your facade and into you, like he knows you intimately. you think about how his smile makes you feel complicated things.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper into the evening air, even though you're not sure what you're apologizing for or who you’re apologising to.
"i don't know what to do."
UNLOCKED: SUNGHO ENDING
you find sungho in the courtyard, perched on the bench from all those nights ago. he has his head buried in his sketchbook, pencil harsh and unforgiving against the paper.
he looks up when he hears the crunch of grass, and when he sees you he unfurls himself and a look of hope skitters across his face, before he tamps it down.
“hey,” he says carefully, setting down his sketchbook.
“hi,” you mumble, sitting down next to him, leaving enough space between you two.
the silence seems to stretch for hours, and sungho starts fidgeting with the pencil between his fingers.
“i remember,” you say suddenly, “basically everything.”
you turn to face him completely, “the letters, my feelings.”
“and how i’d force you to give me the bigger half of the persimmon, and how you’d let me everytime. and how you would always laugh at my jokes, no matter how terrible they were. and how you would make me feel like magic wasn’t the only important thing about me, and how we would do mundane things like share candy and blow on dandelions.”
you choke on your words, “and i remember how i’d wait under the tree everyday, and wish on shooting stars that you’d come back. and when you didn’t, i stopped believing in stuff like that.”
sungho’s hand clenches around his pencil.
“eventually, i guess my mind broke. it went into self defense mode and locked away all those memories,” you look down at your hands, “i know it’s not your fault. but it still hurt. it still stings now.”
“i’m sorry,” sungho says, his voice rough, “i’m so sorry -”
“but you came back,” you interrupt him, “and these past few weeks… you’ve seen me - as what i was and what i am.”
sungho sets down his pencil, his hands shaking.
“i hope i haven’t changed into someone unrecognisable,” you give him a tight smile and he shakes his head furiously, “i’ve grown too, you know? i’m not that kid anymore. i understand. i just wish i understood it sooner, then this wouldn’t be so complicated.”
you purse your lips, “i can’t promise you it’ll be easy. i’m a witch and you’re a human, and i’ll always be entangled with magic and this world - one that doesn’t fit people like you. and taesan’s still going to be here, as my familiar, no matter what. but i don’t love him like he loves me, so -”
you pause for a moment, savouring the words. then sungho reaches for your hand, grabbing onto you like his life depended on it, like you’d slip through his fingers if he didn’t.
“- so if you choose me, then i want to choose you too.”
sungho stares at you, his blond hair in his eyes as his hand starts to shake.
“is that okay? that we try to make it work?” you let out a strained, breathy laugh.
“it’s more than okay,” he blurts, suddenly animated and pulling you into his arms.
the two of you burst into laughter that sounds like tears.
“i thought you’d choose him,” sungho mumbles, voice muffled by your hair, “i mean - the bond, the history…”
“but it’s you,” you say, “without magic, without fate. but just because you’re park sungho. i’m sure of it.”
sungho pulls away, his eyes searching your face with a feeling of relief and mirth.
“can i kiss you?” he says, gently.
your cheeks feel hot - “okay.”
he captures your lips with his, it’s sweet and gentle, and it tastes of home, persimmons, and second chances.
sungho pulls away and presses his forehead against your’s.
“i loved you since i was a kid,” he says, somewhat breathless, “and i’ll love you until -”
you shush him by placing a finger on his lips - “let’s not talk about forever or until death.”
sungho’s eyes creases in amusement, “then i’ll say i love you, and i promise i’ll say it everyday.”
he kisses you again to seal the promise.
EPILOGUE
“we should talk.”
taesan looks up from his book abruptly. he’s been like this for the past six months, ever since you’ve started dating sungho - staying in his human form, building barriers, skirting around you.
“if this is about me being around less, i can do -”
“it’s not.”
taesan’s ears flatten against his head.
“then what is it?” he says, careful.
you take a deep breath, “i’ve been researching and talking to some professors - i was thinking about breaking our bond.”
taesan goes white in the face - “you’re going to get rid of me?”
“now if you put it like that -” you sigh, “i’m not getting rid of you, taesan. i just… want you to be free. i can still feel your emotions, you know? and i’m sure you can feel mine. i don’t want you to be burdened by all that.”
“no,” taesan says sharply.
“taesan -”
“no,” his rejection is harsh, “you don’t get to decide to just throw me away like that. you need to take responsibility! do you think my feelings are just going to go poof! when you break our bond? even if you sever our bond, i’m sure - i’m sure i’d still love you, and i’d feel that hole in my heart even more.”
“i just want you to be happy,” you say softly, sad.
“then let me choose,” taesan begs, “i know what i’m signing up for. it’s going to hurt but i choose this, don’t take that away from me.”
you look at him, desperation in his voice and the way his whole body trembles. you don’t need a bond to feel his distraught at even the thought of being away from you.
“okay,” you say finally, “i won’t break the bond.”
taesan sags in relief, and you pull him into a hug. he clings onto you.
“sorry,” you mumble into his hair, “i thought i was helping.”
“now you’re just being hypocritical,” he scoffs thickly, “let me make my own decisions.”
“i guess you’re right,” you run a hand through his hair, scratching behind his ears.
-- two years later
“you’re going to make us go broke if you only eat the fancy tuna,” sungho whispers harshly to taesan, crouching down next to him as he grabs his food bowl from the floor.
taesan blinks innocently at him as he licks his paw. he bursts into silver glitter that floats to the floor and sungho groans at how it coats his shoe.
“where’s he gone now?” sungho sneezes as he drops the food bowl into the sink. the apartment you two have moved into after sungho got an offer at an architecture firm is cozy - which means its too small for taesan, who enjoys teleporting out of your house and only comes back in time for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“who knows?” you laugh as sungho slides onto the couch next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple.
he lays his head on your lap and you’re forced to give him pets like you did to taesan (‘i, too, look like a cat!’ he always whined).
a devious grin overtakes your face, “who’s my favourite kitty?” you coo.
“me?” sungho stares up at you, eyes shining.
“well, no, you’re a person.”
sungho frowns.
“that’s it, we’re throwing taesan out.”
you laugh as you press a loud kiss on his head, and you think about how you’re building a future together, slowly, surely, and beautifully. a shooting star darts across the snow globe on your window sill and you thank it silently for bringing sungho back to you.
UNLOCKED: TAESAN ENDING
errrrr!
technically shorter than r&j leehan but it felt way longer while writing
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she didn't get to go to the last olympics in milan bc unforch her injuries got aggravated by a car accident she got into a few months earlier :( but i believe in chaeyeon kim 2030 olympic champion!
honestly i get so excited whenever i see you post be it a full fic or just a blurb because there's something oddly comforting about the way you write? and i say oddly because i always get a sort of... eery vibe from your works but in a good way! it's like when you're at a gas station or a diner at 3 in the morning and the lights are dim but give you that feeling, yknow? i'm not entirely sure how to explain it hahaha but in short i love your works and really enjoy reading them! <3
maya!! thank you so much for coming by hehe. you will never catch me dead outside at 3am so maybe that vibe has channeled into my pieces <33 i'm glad my stuff makes you feel something at all!! thank you for always reading 🥹🥹
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JUNE !!!!! im here to bother u about xmen series lolllll
u should fill this out with all the ppl from the xmen series!! as many as you like !! with the yns and side charas!!
okie bye ly
hiii aylin!! i saw you ask rosy this too hehe HOW FUN!!!
i feel like i put everyone who is relevant enough on here... and the reasons for why are in red! (dongmin is probably bullying and peer pressuring woonhak into chugging the glow stick liquid... he'd be like brooo lowkey i'm not opposed to doing that CHUG CHUG CHUG and then leave when woonhak starts glowing from the inside)
