on that morning, your house full of chaos. your six-years old son rushed and running here to there as he have to attend his school ceremony. there also your husband, nanami kento, he also rushed for getting ready before work while also trying to help his son. yep, the three of you woke up late and ended up causing chaos in your house.
you still look messy but already working on your kitchen downstair while your boys upstair. occasionally, you response back in shout when either your husband or your son ask you about their missing socks or wristwatch.
glad the food is ready when both of them rushed goes downstair. you display all the food and their favorite drink next to their plate.
"thank you love, actually, you don't have to. i can just grab something outside," kento immediately wrap an arm around you while planting loving kiss on your head and cheek before taking his seat.
"correct, mama. but i love mama's cook. i don't like the bread papa buy outside. no taste, plain," your six-years old boy chimed while he already dug into his plate.
you just shake your head in amusement at them both and just let them enjoying their breakfast in the middle of chaos. you turn your heels and back to the counter, two bento box already there. you bring it to their bags. plain black-grey box for your husband and bright yellow-blue dinosaur design box for your boy. for kento, you put two tumblrs for cold water and his coffee, for your boy, you also include the tumblr with same model because it is a set.
right after you zip their bags, the two of them raise from their seat with cheek fulls like a squirrel. your husband immediately snatced his and your son's bags.
"we're sorry but we have to go now, i'm afraid we'll be late. thank you, love. i truly appreciate all of these. your food taste good like usual," kento murmuring while trying to swallow the food then pressing his lips into yours for morning kiss.
"just drive safely, okay? be careful on the way," you also plant a loving kiss on his cheek in return before turning to your boy who is waiting in queue.
"mama's cook yummy, thank you, mama!" he cheered excitely and press a sloppy kiss on your cheek when you crouch down to comb his hair.
hours later, after your chaos morning and send them off by the front door, you finally get your relax time, scrolling down your phone on the couch. the house is so quiet without them but you also enjoy this quietness.
while you enjoy your doom scrolling agenda, you got a call by your son's teacher and got news that the bento box is mixed. of course your son and your husband's bento box filled with same food, but for your son, you add some extra yoghurt or jelly in it. the tumblr also mixed.
you can't help but burst of laugh due to your own mistake and keep saying sorry to your son through the phone call with his teacher.
when the time struck to kento's lunch time, he just get time to read your message and immediately take out the bento box on his bag. he just found out that the current bento box on his bag is not his.
he place the box on his desk with amusement, slightly blushing because some of his coworkes notice how cute and bright his box is, different than usual.
"my wife accidentally mixed my bento box with our son's." he explained calmly to his coworkes whenever they cooed at him
during his lunch time, he take his time to facetime you. his face look so calm but also exagerated by your mistake.
"looks like today is our chaos day, right?" kento greet you with an amusement smile while you just laugh on the couch.
"but i remember i put the box correctly, hun. i guess it's slipped out of my mind... i'm sorry.."
"no worries, sweetheart. but i guess your son get fussy on his school because of this."
he really know his son well and his guess is correct. your son mad at you on the phone call with his teacher previously and you share this information with him.
on your phone screen, he just shakes his head in amusement, his gaze stay soft and full of love despite the mistake you did.
"i'll survive," he assures you. "though i have to admit, the dinosaur-shaped nugget is growing on me."
you hear one of his coworkers call out, "nanami, is that a t-rex?"
he doesn't even flinch. "it's a stegosaurus. my wife has excellent taste."
you bury your face in a pillow, giggling. when you look back at the screen, he's still watching you—calm, steady, utterly in love with the beautiful chaos you've brought into his life.
"don't be shy, people can make mistake sometimes," he says softly. "i'll bring you both something sweet on my way home later."
you nod, and the call ends with you smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
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On that lazy afternoon, you lay there with your husband, spending quality time together now that he finally had a moment of respite from work. Your hand and his were joined together, gently rubbing the roundness of your belly through the soft material of your dress. You both savored the time, talking about everything and nothing, while his other hand absentmindedly caressed your hair.
"Oh, don't be modest, Ken," you said, turning on your side to face him better. "You're the kind of man people remember. The girls at our office would always whisper when you walked by—'There goes Nanami from Accounting.'"
He shook his head when you brought up this topic again. That familiar self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips. "They were probably discussing my reports. My overtime hours."
You stifled a laugh. "Your reports? Love, no one whispers about reports." You tried to recall those days, remembering how you had first noticed him too—quiet, dedicated, always with a slight frown of concentration. You never imagined then that this man would one day be your husband, the father of your unborn child.
"I'm serious, sweetheart," he insisted gently. "I'm just an ordinary man. Nothing special about me."
You shook your head, your hand still caressing your round belly. "Love, you are exceptional. You just don't see yourself the way others do."
He returned your gaze with those soft, honey-colored eyes, full of love for you, accompanied by that gentle smile that still made your heart flutter after all this time. He moved his hand from your belly to brush your hair back tenderly. "Then I suppose I managed to be exceptional enough for you, hm?"
Your eyes widened as a blush crept up to your cheeks and ears. You quickly cleared your throat and turned your head away, trying to hide your flustered expression. "That's—that's not what I meant."
Your low murmur reached his ears and earned a soft laugh from him—that rare, warm sound that he saved only for you. His hand kept moving through your soft strands, his gaze still tender and adoring.
Suddenly, an idea crept into your mind. You turned your head back toward him with a determined gleam in your eyes. "Okay, then what if we ask the baby about this? Let our little one decide who's correct. What do you think?"
Hearing your idea, his eyebrow lifted, and his hand momentarily paused in your hair—just for a brief second—before he nodded. "Sure, sweetheart. I don't usually like bets, but for this, I'll make an exception. I'm confident our baby agrees with me."
You nodded and shifted on the bed to find a more comfortable position. You took one of his hands and held it gently before speaking to your unborn baby while rubbing your swollen belly.
"Sweetie, Mama and Papa are currently deciding if Papa is the kind of man people notice—the kind everyone remembers," you began in your softest voice. "If you agree with Mama, please respond here—" you pressed your hand gently on the right side of your belly "—but if you agree with Papa that he's just ordinary, you can respond on the other side." You guided his hand to rest on the left side of your belly.
You both fell silent for a moment, anticipation hanging thick in the air—until a response came in the form of a solid kick on your right side, right where you had pressed your hand.
You gasped and quickly turned your head toward him before chuckling triumphantly. "See? See? Even our baby agrees with their mama." A wide, proud grin spread across your face.
He fell silent, disbelief written across his features at what he had just witnessed—your baby was on your side instead of his. He let out a sigh, then slid down the bed to rest his head against the side of your belly. He murmured softly, speaking directly to your unborn child while gently rubbing and poking.
"Hey there, little one," he whispered. "Papa thinks you made a mistake. Don't you think Mama is wrong and Papa is correct?" He pressed the gentlest kiss to your belly, then waited.
Another kick. Same side. Your side.
He tried once more, this time with a soft plea in his voice. "Baby, please? Papa can prove it..." He poked your left side hopefully.
A flutter. Then another decisive kick—on your right.
You couldn't help but let out another chuckle, your hand instinctively reaching down to stroke his golden strands. He kept repeating his actions, murmuring and poking, each time receiving the same response. After another round of quiet negotiation with your belly, he let out a heavy sigh and tilted his head up, revealing a small pout on his face.
"I think our baby doesn't like me," he murmured, his voice genuinely forlorn. "I tried everything. Three times, sweetheart. Three times. And they still chose you over me..."
His small whine and protest made your heart clench with overwhelming affection—you simply couldn't handle this adorable, vulnerable side of your usually stoic husband. He dropped his head back against the side of your swollen belly with a snuggle and a soft nudge, his arm wrapping around your hip while his thumb brushed gently against your side.
Your smile grew impossibly wider, your gaze softening into something almost unbearably tender at this precious sight. Your hand kept caressing his hair while the other intertwined with his on your hip.
"Oh, my sweet, silly husband," you whispered, your voice thick with love. "Why would our baby not like you? They're half you, after all. The best half." You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him. "They have your calmness. Your strength. They'll probably have your serious little frown too."
He remained buried against your belly, but you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin.
"And even if they're stubborn enough to take your side in every argument," you continued softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns in his hair, "they'll also have your heart. That enormous, gentle heart that you try so hard to hide from the world. The heart that chose me, that loves me, that's going to make our little one feel so incredibly safe and loved."
You felt him shift, his arm tightening around you.
"Do you remember what you told me when we first found out I was pregnant?" you asked quietly.
He was silent for a moment, then nodded against your belly. "I said I was terrified..."
You laughed softly. "You did. And then you said—" Your voice caught slightly, emotion rising in your throat. "You said you hoped our child had my smile. My optimism. My warmth. Because the world is harsh, and you wanted them to have something that could never be taken away."
He lifted his head slowly, his eyes glistening behind his glasses in a way that made your breath hitch.
"Love," you whispered, cupping his face in your hands, "you are the safest person I know. You are the reason I believe in goodness. And this baby—" you guided one of his hands back to your belly "—this baby already knows who their papa is. They feel you when you talk to them. They calm down when you rest your hand here. They know you."
As if on cue, the baby gave soft flutter kicks against his palm—not forceful this time, but gentle. Almost like a greeting.
His breath shuddered out of him.
For a long moment, he simply stared at where his hand met your belly. Then slowly, so slowly, he leaned down and pressed the most reverent kiss to the spot.
"Someone just saying hello," you whispered. "And they're saying they love you..."
"I love you too," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. "Both of you. More than I ever thought myself capable of loving anything."
He pressed another kiss. Then another. Each one tender, deliberate, full of promises unspoken.
When he finally looked up at you, his cheeks were damp.
You wiped them gently with your thumb, smiling through your own tears. "There he is," you said softly. "There's the man everyone notices. The remarkable, exceptional man who somehow still doesn't see how incredible he is."
He let out a wet laugh, leaning into your touch. "I think," he whispered, "that I'm only remarkable because of you. Because you see something in me that no one else ever has."
He shook his head, but he was smiling now—that rare, beautiful smile that belonged only to you. "No, sweetheart. I'm the lucky one here." He pressed his forehead to yours, the tip of his nose gently bumping against yours. "Every single day, I'm the lucky one."
"Then I'm the lucky one," you replied. "Because I get to keep you."
You stayed like that for a long while, forehead to forehead, breathing each other in, his hand never leaving your belly and yours never leaving his hair. The afternoon sun slanted through the windows, painting everything in warm, golden light.
And then, so softly you almost missed it, the baby kicked against his palm once more.
He laughed—a real laugh, bright and surprised. "They did it again."
"Of course they did," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "They're your child. They'll never stop reaching for you."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes overflowing with so much love it made your heart ache in the most beautiful way.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?"
"For this." His gaze dropped to your belly, then returned to your face. "For our family. For seeing me. For loving me." His thumb traced a gentle circle on your belly. "For giving me a reason to believe I'm more than just ordinary."
You pulled him into a kiss then—deep and slow and full of everything words could never capture. When you finally broke apart, you were both smiling like fools.
"I love you, honey," you whispered against his lips. "You are the most remarkable man I've ever known,"
He smiled—that soft, devastating smile—and replied, "And I love you, my sweet wife. The woman who taught me what remarkable really means."
Outside, the world continued its chaotic pace. But in that room, wrapped in golden afternoon light and the warmth of each other, the three of you existed in a perfect, peaceful bubble of love.
And when the baby kicked again—right against where both your hands rested together—you knew, without a doubt, that this was exactly where you were always meant to be.
"i need you to watch her for a moment, papa. i need to go to the bathroom," you say to him as you carefully pass your 10-month-old daughter to him, right after he's washed his hands from work. he nods and carefully holds her in his arms, then gives you a loving smile. "yeah, don't worry, ma. i'll keep my eyes on her. take your time."
you nod and quickly rush to the bathroom. your daughter watches you silently as she sucks her pacifier. she tilts her head up, her tiny chubby fingers gripping her dad's shirt.
kento looks down at her with an adoring gaze, despite the tiredness in his weary body and mind. "it's just you and papa now, princess." his voice is soft and gentle as he lowers himself to sit on the couch.
he keeps her close while rubbing her back gently. her gaze is drawn to his face for a while. he can't help but yawn as the fatigue creeps into his bones, but to his surprise, he gets a tiny smack on his lips and feels chubby fingers slip into his mouth.
he gags and chuckles as he gently takes her hand away. "alright, alright, papa should have closed his mouth when yawning, huh? papa's sorry, princess."
he gently rubs the back of her hand while she only looks at him as if nothing happened. she then lays her head on his shoulder, still sucking her pacifier. his smile widens with a sigh escaping his lips. he shifts slightly so he can lay his back against the couch while rubbing her back.
he stifles a yawn and slowly closes his eyes, his head resting on the backrest. he can hear noises from the bathroom where you are. but just as he's almost lost consciousness, he gets tiny smacks on his cheeks that sting.
he grumbles lowly and flutters his eyes open, shocked a little by the round face with a pacifier zooming in front of his eyes. she makes a tiny muffled voice and keeps smacking his cheeks as if trying to talk to her father. he can't help but laugh through the pain.
he gently holds her body as he sits straight on the couch. "what is it, princess? sorry, papa dozen off a bit..." his voice is still soft and gentle. she reaches out towards the floor where her playpen is. he acknowledges her demand and goes straight there.
in her playpen, he lowers her down onto the soft mat, and she quickly crawls towards her toys. he sighs softly and unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt while sitting against the wall. "princess, papa is here, okay? come to papa if you need something," he says. she turns her head towards him for a brief moment before starting to play with her toys.
for a few minutes, she diligently brought him her toys, demanding his attention before moving on to the next. he fought to stay awake, but exhaustion won, his grip slackening on the toy in his lap.
when she returned with a doll to find him unresponsive, she crawled onto his lap and patted his leg. still, he didn't stir. she pulled her pacifier out and tried, "baaa, abbaa!"
met with silence, she blinked in confusion, abandoned both her pacifier and the doll on him, and went to find another toy. this became a quiet, determined mission: she repeated the process until his lap and the space around him were littered with her offerings.
finally, deprived of the attention she sought, a frustrated whine escaped her. the sound pierced his sleep-fogged mind. his ears perked up, and without even opening his eyes, he murmured, "princess, shh, it's alright. papa is here," as he drowsily cuddled the nearest plushie to his chest.
after finishing in the bathroom, you ducked into the kitchen for the baby's snack, returning to the living room with a small bowl, only to be met with the sound of your daughter's cries. worry spiking, you rushed to the living room and peered into the playpen. the sight made you gasp, then giggle softly. there was kento, fast asleep and cuddling her plush bunny, while your very real, very upset daughter sat crying amidst a pile of discarded toys beside him.
you stepped in, set the bowl down, and quickly scooped her into your arms. "it's okay, sweetie. mama's here," you murmured, kissing her head as you sat before the sleeping man. you reached out and gently shook his shoulder, "papa. papa-min, wake up."
he groaned, tightening his arms around the plushie. "good girl, princess... don't cry.. papa's here, sshh...." he mumbled, blinking lazily.
you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you.
"why are you laughing, mama...?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep. he blinked a few more times, his brow furrowing in confusion as his gaze landed on the baby in your arms. "...whose baby is that? we don't have twins."
you raised an eyebrow, your laughter growing. "what do you mean? this baby is ours."
"ours?" he looked genuinely bewildered. "but... she's with me now... look..." he shifted to show you the bunny nestled in his arms.
"i suggest you wipe your eyes first before talking," you said, still laughing. "then you can see whose baby you're actually holding."
he rubbed his eyes and blinked hard. the moment he realized he was cuddling a stuffed toy, his eyes flew wide open. "oh my god..."
you laughed louder as a soft blush crept up his face. he looked from you to your daughter, who was clutching your dress, her cheeks still wet with tears.
"papa's sorry, princess," he said softly, scooting closer. he reached out to wipe her cheeks and press a kiss to her head. she let out a dismissive gurgle and turned her face away. he gasped, feigning deep hurt. "my princess hates me."
shaking your head in amusement, you grabbed the snack bowl and settled your daughter down with it. "it's not your fault, love. you're tired from work, and i left her with you for too long. i'm sorry," you said with a sheepish smile.
he shook his head, his expression softening as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "no, don't be sorry. she's my responsibility too. you take care of her all day; you deserved a break. i'm the one who's sorry for dozing off and making her cry."
his gentle tone made your heart flutter. this was the man he had promised to be from the very beginning—present, dedicated, and sharing the weight of parenthood completely. you gave a nod, brushing his hair back. "go have a shower. i'll watch her."
he shakes his head and holds your hand gently. "no," before you can respond, he shifts to lay his head on your lap and look up at you. "i want to spend more time with you two. a shower can wait."
your eyes widen slightly before you genuinely smile at him. you nod, and your fingers find his blond strands. he shifts and turns on his side so he can watch her eating her snacks. he reaches out a hand to hold and rub her chubby legs. "this is what i have always wanted. coming home from work to spend my time with my two favorite girls."
you continue to card your fingers through his hair, watching as his eyelids grow heavy once more, but this time in relaxation, not exhaustion. he had taken over so you could have a moment, and now you would watch over them both. leaning down, you press a soft kiss to his forehead. "welcome home, papa," you whisper, and the small, sleepy smile he gives you is everything.
a long, deep sigh from you reached nanami’s ears, pulling his attention from the work on his desk. you were curled up on his bed, bathed in the quiet of the room.
“what’s wrong, sweetheart? do you need something?” he asked, turning to face you. the warm glow from his desk lamp cast a soft light on his features, his glasses still sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose.
you shook your head in response, offering a tiny, unconvincing smile. “no, i’m fine, honey. it’s alright. sorry to distract you from work.”
you dismissed his concern and went back to scrolling on your phone, but the nervous habit of biting your nails gave you away. his frown deepened. without another word, he rose from his desk and walked over to the bed, carefully taking a seat on the edge next to you. he kept his hands on his lap, not wanting to startle you, giving you space.
“sweetheart, i don’t like how you sound. would you like to talk to me about it?” his voice was soft, his eyes behind his glasses filled with love and concern. you kept your gaze locked on your phone screen, still refusing to look at him as you worried your nail between your teeth. he leaned in slightly, then carefully placed his palm on the duvet, just above your lap. “please?” his pleading voice was low and gentle.
you finally flicked your gaze up to his face, but you just shook your head again, your hand trembling slightly as you continued to bite your nails.
he let out a tiny, soft sigh before lifting his hand from the duvet to gently take yours, guiding it away from your teeth. “don’t bite them, you’ll hurt your fingers again.” his thumb brushed gently over your fingertips, a soothing, repetitive motion.
you stared at him silently before shaking your head once more. “it’s nothing. i’m fine, honey.” your tiny murmur drew a resigned sigh from him. as you placed your phone on the nightstand, he caught a quick glimpse of the screen before you locked it—another job search website. he scooted closer and gently took your other hand, enveloping both of yours in his warmth.
“it’s okay, sweetheart. i won’t judge. you can share anything with me.” his voice remained a low, steady anchor. he knew he had to approach you with the utmost gentleness and understanding. he watched as you kept your mouth shut, your mind spiraling behind your eyes. he caught your uncertain look and whispered, his thumbs gently caressing your wrists, “is it about a job again?”
you took a tiny, ragged breath, and that was all the confirmation he needed. he knew you had been trying your best, sending out applications and attending interviews, only to be met with silence or rejection. your lips began to quiver as tears welled in your eyes.
“i’ve tried my best, but why do they do this to me? am i that bad? do i not deserve to work?” your voice broke into a low whisper. a ragged breath hitched in your throat, and a single tear traced a path down your cheek. he listened intently, his gaze never leaving yours, his hands a steady comfort around yours. “every job i apply for gives me nothing except a notice that they’re ‘discontinuing my process.’ am i not enough? i always look presentable, i always study and do my best on every test they give me. why is it so difficult…” you rambled desperate words as tears streamed freely down your face. “i feel so insecure with you, honey. you have a great job, a career… and here i am, still unemployed. i feel like such a burden to you.” you pulled one hand from his grasp to wipe your face harshly.
he let out a soft sigh, then gave you the gentlest smile you had ever seen. “are you done, sweetheart?” he asked gently. you gave a small, hesitant nod. “may i talk now? would you mind?” you shook your head, allowing him to respond. “thank you,” he murmured, reaching out to cup your cheeks. his thumbs worked softly, wiping away your tears and the traces of your distress.
“sweetheart, i know very well that you’ve tried your best. you’ve been applying for jobs non-stop, sometimes forgetting to take a break or even eat. you’ve constantly replenished your resume and portfolio, and you keep learning every day. and through it all, you still look so incredibly strong and beautiful in my eyes.”
he paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. “seeing how hard you work to find a job truly inspires me to work harder. thank you for being my inspiration.” he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.
“you know? i am so very proud of you. and i need you to know that you are not, and will never be, a burden to me. i will always do my best to support you—mentally, physically, in any way i can. it’s okay to let your mind and body rest. you’ve more than earned it.”
his sweet, kind words broke the last of your resolve, and a fresh wave of tears flowed freely. he simply smiled, his heart swelling with affection, and pulled you into his arms. you quickly buried your face into the crook of his neck, finally letting out everything you had been holding in.
“shhh, let it all out, sweetheart. i’m here. i’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your ear. one hand cradled the back of your head while the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. he pressed soft, comforting kisses to your temple as you cried, holding you securely until your sobs subsided into tiny, hiccupping breaths.
he held you for a while longer before slowly pulling back to look at your face, messy with tears and sniffles. he let out a tender chuckle, reaching for a tissue to gently clean you up. “so cute. but i don’t like seeing you cry like this—only when you’re happy.”
he gently tidied your hair, tucking a few stray strands behind your ears. “how are you feeling now? still upset?”
you shook your head, a genuine, albeit wobbly, smile gracing your lips. “no, i’m better now. thank you…”
he nodded and leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose gently. “that’s the smile i’ve been looking for.”
you both chuckled, the sound light and free, and it warmed his heart completely. it mended the pieces that had felt torn and twisted when he saw anxiety and sadness overwhelming you.
“since you’re feeling better,” he began, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “would you like to go out with me? or would you prefer to stay home and relax?”
“aren’t you working right now, honey? i’m fine, really. you can continue,” you said, glancing toward his desk.
he shook his head, a warm smile on his face. “work can wait. you are my first priority right now. you mentioned wanting to try the new pastry menu at your favorite café. let’s get ready and head there.”
your eyes widened slightly in amusement, and you leaned forward until your forehead rested against his. “i see what’s happening here. someone’s excited for bread.”
he raised an eyebrow, both his hands finding your waist in a gentle hold. “ah, you’ve caught me, sweetheart. guilty as charged. but i have a feeling you want it, too.”
and for the rest of the day, the two of you enjoyed warm, delicious pastries. he had left his work at home, and your heart felt light, the heavy worries replaced by the warmth of his love and the yummy treats in your tummy.
the morning of your weekend began with soft whispers and the pitter-patter of tiny feet scurrying out of the room before you could even open your eyes. when you finally wandered into the kitchen, you found your husband, sylus qin, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease that was endlessly attractive.
you let out a soft sigh and stood behind him, your arms wrapping snugly around his waist.
“good morning, kitten,” he said, his voice a low, warm rumble. he turned, leaning down to give you a soft, lingering kiss. “sleep well?”
before you could answer, a small tornado wrapped around your legs. “mama! up, up!”
you laughed, scooping up your five-year-old son, sullivan qin. he immediately buried his face in your neck, his little arms squeezing tight. “good morning, my sweet boy.”
you heard a low, clear throat from sylus. “kitten, your phone kept vibrating while you were sleeping. seems like your girls called you,” he mentioned casually, sliding a perfect pancake onto a plate. “i think they were hoping to steal you for the day from me and sullivan. maybe they wanna go to that new art exhibit in the town.”
you blinked, setting sullivan down on a counter stool. “really? but if I remember, we don't have any plans together today.”
sylus’s red crimson gaze was calm and reassuring as he placed the plate in front of you. "you do, sweetheart. you were just too preoccupied with chores and sullivan, then you forgot your plans with the girls.”
sullivan nodded vigorously, his eyes wide with seriousness. “you gotta go, mama! the aunties will be mad at you later! i wanna play with dadda only for today!”
a frown creased your forehead. you smelled something fishy between your two boys, but before you could speak up, sylus moved behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head. “think of it as a curated day off. go. enjoy the exhibit. let me take care of sullivan for the day.” his tone left no room for argument, only fond amusement.
so, you went. the day with your friend was lovely, but a part of your heart remained at home, curious about your two favorite boys. were they alright? can sylus really take care of sullivan alone? —and of course he can.
when you returned that evening, the house was unusually quiet from the outside. a flicker of worry pricked your heart. what if something bad happened? but as you turned your key and pushed the front door open, you froze.
“SURPRISE!”
the word came in two voices: one deep and joyful, the other a high-pitched, excited squeal.
the living room was transformed. colorful paper chains and shimmering balloons draped from the ceiling. a large, hand-painted banner that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY OUR BELOVED MAMA!” in slightly wobbly letters hung over the fireplace. and in the center of it all, standing proudly after you opened the door, were your boys.
sylus wore a ridiculously festive, pointy birthday hat perched perfectly on his head, a soft smile gracing his lips. little sullivan sported a matching hat, beaming from ear to ear as he jumped up and down with a popper on his hand. oh, don't forget the beautiful decorated cake, clearly homemade, with five flickering candles waiting to be lit on the coffee table.
tears instantly welled in your eyes, your hand flying to your mouth. “oh, my… what is all this...?”
you had totally forgotten that day was your birthday, and they had both kept it a secret from you. their mission was a success.
“we surprised you, mama! happy mama day! we did great, right?” sullivan chanted, rushing forward to hug your legs again.
you looked from your son’s ecstatic face and gave him a nod. you scooped him up to give him a soft kiss on his forehead, then you turned to your husband’s tender gaze. “you… you did all this, sy?”
sylus stepped forward, his arm slipping around your waist to guide you fully into the room. “we had a very busy day,” he confirmed, his voice thick with affection. “there was banner painting, balloon blowing, and a very serious cake-decorating session supervised by a certain little chef.”
he led you to the sofa and sullivan wiggled out of your arms. then he carefully—and with immense concentration—carried the cake over. “we made it only for you, mama! dadda let me stir and put the sprinkles!”
you looked at the cake. it was lopsided and the frosting was a little messy in places, but it was adorned with an avalanche of colorful sprinkles. it was the most beautiful cake you had ever seen. you let out a tiny chuckle and wiped your tears, your cheeks already aching from the width of your smile. gently, you reached out and carefully took the cake from his little hands, your heart swelling at the look of proud accomplishment on his face.
“don't forget to make a wish, mama! big big wishes!” sullivan insisted, his little body vibrating with excitement.
you looked at your son’s hopeful face, then at your husband, whose love for you shone brighter than any candle. you didn’t need a wish. you had everything you could ever want right here. but you closed your eyes for a moment, feigning deep thought, before leaning forward and blowing out all five candles in one breath.
sullivan cheered, and sylus’s arm tightened around you, his lips brushing your temple.
“happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured, just for you. “thank you for giving me the greatest adventure in my life. and thank you for being the greatest mom and wife in this world. i will never take you for granted.”
“mama, happy birthday! Thank you for being my mama!” sullivan chimed in, his little voice full of earnest joy. “i hope mama is always happy and healthy and i want you to be my mama forever and ever!”
when you turned to him, his face glowed with a wide grin as he held out his drawing. you carefully placed the cake back on the coffee table before taking the artwork from his hands, your fingers trembling slightly with emotion.
your eyes traced over the crayon lines: the three of you stood together in the middle of a vibrant scene, festive hats perched on your heads, surrounded by a lovingly drawn cake, balloons, and a whirl of colorful decorations. at the top, in his best five-year-old penmanship, were the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA!"
a laugh of pure, unbridled joy bubbled out of you. in one fluid motion, you scooped him onto your lap, holding him close as you covered his head in loving kisses. then, you turned to sylus, your heart so full it felt ready to burst, and pressed a soft, grateful kiss to his cheek.
tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they were pure joy. you pulled both of them into a tight hug, your voice thick with emotion. “this is the most wonderful surprise... i've never felt more loved in my entire life. thank you, my two favorite boys.”
in the warm, glittering glow of your surprise birthday party, surrounded by the two souls who meant the world to you, you knew no kingdom or treasure could ever compare to this. the three of you took a picture together to capture this sweet moment, then placed the photograph in a frame to cherish forever.
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author note:
uhm im about to post this yesterday for my birthday but im so tired after work lol. so i decided to post it today. im so sorry if this work isnt that good.
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a convenience store date with your husband, sylus qin, was an event in itself—especially while carrying his baby, now five months along, in your belly.
he was the picture of devotion, your bag slung over his shoulder, one arm a steady presence cradling your back, and the other expertly guiding the trolley as the two of you browsed the aisles.
you came to a stop in the meat section, your eyes carefully scanning the options. you picked up a package, turning it over in your hands. sylus stood close, his arm circling your waist from behind. "what do you think, sy?" you asked, handing him the pack of fresh meat.
he took it and as a professional cook himself, he diligently scanned the cut of fresh meat behind the wrapper. "well, it looks good," he concluded. "do you want it?" at your nod, he placed it carefully in the trolley. his eyes then drifted to the fish stall, where an array of seafood gleamed fresh on the ice. "what about fish? It's good for you and the baby," he suggested.
you hummed, already shaking your head. "no, i don't want it. i don't like the smell," you said, even as your gaze lingered on the display.
he chuckled lowly, shaking his head in amusement. his arm around your waist tightened gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your side. "it isn't that smelly, sweetheart. it will taste delicious later. we can get a salmon if you want to," he coaxed, but you remained firm, walking away from the area and leaving him to follow with an entertained chuckle.
next was the fruits and vegetables. his red eyes scanned the produce, mentally cross-referencing the doctor's advice on your diet and nutrition. his train of thought was broken when you suddenly grabbed a pack of mushrooms, much to his confusion.
"mushrooms?" he asked carefully, his voice free of judgment. "are you going to buy these?"
you nodded vigorously, a wide smile spreading across your face. "yeah!"
his frown deepened as he took the packet from you. he read the label, then looked back at you. "are you sure, kitten? you don't like mushrooms. or are you going to buy these and make me finish them later?"
you gasped dramatically, looking down at the round curve of your belly. you rubbed it gently over your dress and leaned down. "do you hear that, sweetie? your dadda is underestimating us again. what a bad dadda is he, yeah?"
his brow raised before he shook his head, a fond smile playing on his lips. he stepped closer, placing the mushrooms in the trolley. one palm settled on the small of your back while the other landed on your belly, giving it a gentle rub through the fabric of your dress. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
"i'm not underestimating you two," he murmured, his voice gentle and steady. "i just want to ensure I don't end up as your personal food bin again."
he straightened up, his expression softening into a gentle smile. "but if you're really sure, then it's okay. we can buy it and i'll cook the best meal for you and the baby at home later."
a bright, triumphant smile instantly lit up your face, "that's my husband," you crooned, your voice full of affection as you patted his chest. you gave him a look of pure, smug satisfaction. "i knew you'd come around. our little food bin." he couldn't help but shake his head in amusement and land a peck on your cheek.
he had always been so gentle and protective with you, from the very moment you'd announced your pregnancy. and as time went on, he had indeed often ended up as the "food bin" for your weird cravings and new culinary experiments. for him, your happiness was the highest priority, because a happy you meant a happy baby growing in your womb.
you continued your shopping, eventually returning to his car with several grocery bags stored neatly in the trunk. your own hands were occupied with a single, blissful ice cream. he told you to wait in the car, enjoying your ice cream prettily while he was busy moving the groceries from the trolley.
soon, he joined you, settling into the driver's seat with a soft sigh. he watched you for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face as you tried to catch a drippy bit of ice cream. "good?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. you nodded, offering him a taste.
but instead of taking a bite from the cone, he leaned over. first, he pressed a soft, swift kiss to your forehead. "your happiness is sweeter," he murmured. then, he leaned down further. his warm palm gently settled on the swell of your stomach, and he pressed his lips there in a tender, lingering kiss. "be good for your mama in there and enjoy the ice cream, little one," he whispered, his voice low and full of devotion. he gave your belly one more gentle rub before straightening up, his gaze meeting yours—so full of love it made your heart ache.
a sharp gasp left your lips, your body trembling from the effort. "that– that hurts... ken, it's not going to fit."
your voice was a strained whisper, thick with frustration.
"you can do it, sweetheart. just a little more." kento's low, steady voice washed over you, so close it was almost a vibration against your skin. you could feel the heat of him nearby, a silent promise of support. "i know you can take it."
"n–no... i can't," you whimpered, your muscles aching as you finally let your hands fall in defeat. "it's too much. It won't fit."
the air shifted. with a quiet, possessive certainty, the space behind you was suddenly filled.
the solid warmth of his chest pressed against your bare back, and his large hands gently brushed yours away from the stubborn zipper of your dress.
"here," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "let me help you."
you quickly held your breath, sucking in your stomach as you watched your reflections. his brow was furrowed in concentration, his gaze locked on the tiny metal teeth that refused to meet.
"sweetheart, don't hold your breath," he murmured, his voice a low rumble so close to your ear.
"but if I don't, it will never close," you argued, your voice tight with frustration.
"then we'll choose another dress."
you frowned and a slight pout formed on your lips. you had been so sure this was the perfect dress for your date night. before you could protest, you felt him straighten up. his hands stilled on your back, and his eyes met yours in the mirror.
"i think the zipper is broken," he said, his tone gentle but final. "we can have it mended, or we can buy you a new one. a dozen new ones, if you like." he leaned in, his lips brushing a soft kiss against your temple, then your bare shoulder.
confusion knit your brows together. "broken? but it was fine when i bought it..." your voice trailed off as your eyes dropped in the mirror, not meeting your own gaze, but settling lower. "maybe... maybe i've just gained weight."
kento's gaze followed yours, drifting down from your face to the gentle, firm curve of your stomach. he shook his head slowly, and one large, warm hand slid from your waist to cradle the slight swell of your belly through the fabric.
"this isn't weight gain," he said, his voice impossibly soft. "and even if it were, it would only mean you are happy and healthy. that's all that matters to me." his lips found your shoulder again, planting another soft, soothing kiss.
your heart fluttered wildly, a blush warming your cheeks. he always knew how to dissolve your worries with a few simple words and kisses.
"but if it truly bothers you," he continued, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you securely against him, "i can sign you up for any sport class you'd like. but for now, let's not let a dress ruin our evening, yeah? we can go shopping, or we can stay in. i'll read to you while we cuddle on the bed. the choice is yours, my love."
all the tension melted from your shoulders with a soft, genuine sigh. a smile finally touched your lips as you leaned back into his solid embrace and gave him a nod, your hands covering his on your stomach.
he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, planting a series of tender kisses as you began to sway gently in the quiet room. in that moment, wrapped in the safety of his arms, the truth settled deep within you.
you knew it then, and you would carry it with you always, your husband didn't just love you despite your flaws and changes—he loved every part of the story they told, especially the new, gentle curve of your stomach that he cradled like a promise.
on a relaxing weekend, new dad nanami lay on a mat in the living room with his little girl who in an ages of actively babbling. her tiny hands reach out, grabbing her socks while her eyes lock with his hazel iris. he's there, stay prop up on his forearm, looking down with adoration on his gaze.
each incoherent babbles coming out of her tiny mouth, he will respond with a sweet hum or a sweet answer like, "mhm, that's true, princess. yeah, daddy knows that avocado puree is yum, mhm, yeah," as if validating her baby words even tho it's just an "aahh" or "ooh" sounds.
for him, there's no other happiness by spending his weekend with his beloved family, especially with his little girl, and he knows very well that she got him wrapped on her little fingers already.
nanami is that type of husband who would make full use of his paternity leave. he can't deny that he loves your clingy, needy side since you got pregnant and gave birth. you've let your guard down completely, and not forgetting that he insists you ask him for help with anything—even the silliest little thing. it makes him feel special like the happiest man on earth.
he is busying himself with household chores while taking care of you during your postpartum period and your baby's growth period.
he's there through the endless nights, staying up with you or taking the night shift himself so you can sleep and get enough rest.
during your lower moments, he’s your steady anchor. he'd hold you safely in his arms, his voice a soft murmur against your hair, “it’s alright, sweetheart. i’ve got you," while his fingers gently caressing your hair.
as the weeks and months pass, your baby grows healthier and stronger, and so does his bond with his little one. one afternoon, after you wake from a nap, you find him asleep in the backyard hanging chair with your baby sleeping on his chest. their faces look so alike—your baby took after him completely just like a carbon copy of him but in a tiny size. they share the same peaceful sleeping expression as a gentle, warm breeze ruffles their hair. that sight of them make your heart flutter and warm before you leave them both alone and don't have heart to wake them up.
when it's time for the baby to try real food, like puree, he does thorough serious research, jotting down notes and recipes in his notebook. he is the chef in the house and of course he prepares the food seriously, making the softest banana puree as if it were a Michelin-starred dish.
beside from that, he carefully applies all the methods he researched for introducing solids to your little one. in the back of your and nanami's minds, you both worry that your baby might spit it out and reject it, but surprisingly, your baby responds with a soft, tiny gurgle and a wide, toothless smile.
oh but they actually spit out a little of the puree mischievously but willingly accept more until the very last scoop. a look of pure pride and happiness shines on nanami's face—the look of a man who has just conquered the most important mission of his life as the greatest dad for his baby.
with the last bite finished, he gently wipes your baby's face and cleans the high chair, telling them how proud he is while peppering kisses all over their round cheeks. this moment feels like a victory, making him eager to try another recipe from his notebook. he makes a mental note to take a picture and jot down on his notebook next to each purees receipt—which purees the baby likes and dislikes.
after his paternity leave ends, he always spends every morning playing with your baby first before he leave your baby with you to get ready, but his heart already longing for them before he even leaves for work. when you and the baby send him off at the door, he wraps you both in a tight hug, kissing the top of each of your heads and whispering that he'll miss you both terribly at the office and can't wait to come home as soon as possible.
⚠️Trigger warning before read: contains depression, bad mental health, self-deprecating thoughts/negative self-talk, academic stress/anxiety.
The living room in your small apartment is totally a mess when you let him step inside. The scattered papers and your disheveled appearance answer the question in his mind. Your boyfriend, Nanami Kento, has come over to help you with your task. He carefully makes his way to the couch, avoiding the papers strewn across the floor.
You sit next to him, pressing your face into your palms. "I'm a failure," you mutter under your breath. He catches your words as he powers on his laptop. "What do you mean, sweetheart?" he asks gently, but you're too deep in your despair to respond.
In your final year of college, you feel completely lost in your major while your classmates seem to excel effortlessly. "I'm a failure. I can't do this anymore. I'm dumb and not worthy." You continue muttering these self-deprecating words into your palms. Nanami moves closer, placing his hands on your knees and rubbing them soothingly. "Sweetheart, hey, can you hear me?" His warm, gentle voice calls out, but your mind remains clouded with negative thoughts. "Sweetheart, look at me." After several attempts, he gently pulls your hands from your face and tilts your chin up. His eyes widen at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Cupping your cheeks, he wipes away your tears with his thumbs. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Do you want to talk about this? I'm all ears." You shake your head slightly, worried about being a burden. "I won't judge you, I promise." His words break down your defenses. Your lips quiver as fresh tears roll down your cheeks. He pulls you into an embrace, rubbing your back comfortingly.
Between sobs, clutching his shirt, you try to explain: "It's hard, the task. I feel lost and couldn't ask my friends for help because they were busy too. But when—when—" You struggle to continue, choking back sobs as you recall your recent text conversation with one friend. "When I showed my classmate my problems, he was shocked that I was still struggling so close to the deadline. He told me he'd finished ages ago, so—so—" You grip your trousers tightly, steadying yourself. "He's just working on the easier parts now, and he lectured me about doing the hardest parts first. And blah blah whatever." Looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, you continue, "I didn't get any actual help, dear... Just his perspective, judgment, and a comparison to his progress..." Your voice was just barely a whisper when you said that. You pause to catch your breath, your hands trembling in his gentle grip as he soothes them with a gentle rub from his thumbs. After a deep breath, you add, "I know he didn't mean harm... but I feel so insignificant, and I keep wondering—why would he say that to me... And I keep questioning myself until now..."
And there he is, sitting nicely and quietly listening to your rambles with no judgment in his gaze. It’s just full of understanding in his gentle eyes, full of compassion and care. After a few minutes, he carefully ask you, "Are you finished, sweetheart? Or is there more you want to tell me?" his thumbs wiping your tears away. You shake your head and clean your nose with a tissue, feeling somewhat relieved after sharing your burden. With a gentle smile, he strokes your head affectionately. "Sweetheart, your current struggles don't define your future—we can find our true passion along life's journey. People switch careers even after spending years in a field, and you can too."
He paused for a moment, his intent gaze searching yours with warmth before continuing, "You'll find your own path in time. I know you're trying your hardest, and I believe in you completely. I'm so proud of how far you've come. Please don't put yourself down. I'm here to support you, cheer you on, and be proud of you." His sweet, gentle words comfort you as his knuckles brush your cheeks, and he tucks your hair behind your ears. "Let me help you with your task, okay? We'll go through it slowly—would you like that?" he asks softly.
You nod, earning a warm smile and soft sigh from him. He kisses the top of your head before pulling away. "Good girl," he says softly, helping you gather the scattered papers on the ground. Together, you spend hours organizing and solving problems. He patiently explains variables and methods, repeating explanations until you understand fully. The sun was half on the horizon, and the sky outside your apartment building was tinted with warm orange and red when you finished your task. You celebrate with claps and cheers, "Thank you so much for the help, dear. I won't finish that soon without your help." He stretches his weary limbs and ruffles your hair affectionately. "Good job, I'm very proud of you, you know? And please don't mind it, sweetheart. I knew you were smart and capable. I only help you by explaining the methods," he says with a warm smile. You give him a playful glare, blushing and grinning. "You are so cheeky..." you mumble shyly. He laughs and gently pinches your cheek. "There's my playful and precious girlfriend. Should we get your favorite dinner outside? Of course with ice cream for dessert to celebrate this."
Your evening concludes with a dinner date after completing your work together. Your boyfriend, Nanami Kento, a practicum assistant and top student in your major, has loved you from the beginning. Despite his busy schedule, he prioritizes you because he cherishes you as his girlfriend and values you more than anyone or even yourself, determined to help you feel valued and prevent you from falling into depression again—he won't risk losing you this time.
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an.: this is my first blog of writing genshin au and I'm not a native speaker so sorry for the bad quality of the story :(.
T/W: kidnapping, hard to breath
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The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the backyard of the House of the Hearth. Little Lyney and Lynette, ever the inseparable twins, were bored. Freminet and Arlecchino wouldn't be back from their grocery run for another hour, leaving the twins to their own devices.
Hide-and-seek was their usual game, Lynette the undisputed champion. Her feline reflexes made finding her a near-impossible feat. Today, however, Lyney, fueled by a surge of misplaced confidence, declared himself the seeker.
"Just ten minutes, Lynette! I bet I can find you faster than you can say 'meow,'" he boasted, a wide grin splitting his face.
Lynette, with a skeptical eyebrow raised, crossed her arms. "You know you're terrible at this, right? Remember when you spent an hour looking for Pers in this house? You accidentally put it outside before telling Freminet and it was lost far away from home. Gladly Mrs. Chlorinde found it."
Lyney winced at the memory. "That was different! Besides, remember how I found Lady Furina at the Opera Epicles in record time?"
Lynette wasn't convinced. "Yeah, after Mr. Neuvillette practically send some Clockwork Mecha to help you." But seeing her brother's determination, she shrugged. "Fine, one game. But ten minutes is pushing it. Don't come crying to me when you can't find me."
Lyney, practically bouncing with excitement, counted to fifteen while Lynette disappeared into the leafy labyrinth of the backyard. She settled on a medium-sized bush offering perfect camouflage for a nimble cat-girl.
Time ticked by. Lyney searched high and low, his initial confidence waning with every fruitless pass. He called Lynette's name, his voice echoing eerily in the warm afternoon. Ten minutes turned into fifteen, then twenty. A knot of worry began to tighten in his stomach.
Lynette let out giggles because she knew she would win this game again. However, when she went to jump out, there was a hand covering her eyes from behind, "uwaa!" Lynette almost jumped in surprise.
"Lyney! You can only call my name without covering my eyes like this, you know it scares me, right?" she said with a slight gasp.
What a surprise, somebody behind her didn't answer, she could only hear the breath, "Lyney! Don't play a fool, please! Let go of my eyes now."
Lynette still thought that someone who was covering her eyes was Lyney. When she held the hand, it felt so cold and rough but the size was the same as Lyney's, "Are you catching a cold, Lyney? Your hand is so cold right now."
Still, the owner of the hand did not budge an inch. Slowly, the left hand was down over her nose. Meanwhile, the right hand covered her eyes, "Ly- Lyney?? I- I can't breathe." she started to cry a little while hitting the hand.
"H- h- help... Somebody... Help..." She kept hitting those hands hard but the hands still didn't make any move out of her nose. Suddenly, the hand's owner whispered in a husky tone, "Don't worry lil girl, I won't hurt you, hahaha."
Lyney got goosebumps and shivers from the voice behind her and she still didn't know who it was. When her head starts spinning like a Ferris wheel, someone pats her shoulder and calls her name, "Lynette?"
She jumped in shock and now she can take a breath and open her eyes. She looked so messy at the moment, with such puffy eyes and a red nose, "Dad?" Lynette saw Arlecchino and Freminet now. Right, the one who pats her shoulder is Arlecchino who is on the way back from shopping with Freminet.
"Lynette... Okay?" Freminet comes to hug her. "Lynette tell me what are you doing here alone? in these abandoned places?" Arlecchino squats in front of Lynette and swipes her tears. Lynette still can't talk due to tears that keep falling down.
"Okay, we'd better go home first." Arlecchino carries Lynette gently and holds Freminet with her other hand. It's easy to hold while carrying two kids because she only bought a few supplies.
When they arrived at home, Lyney was seen pacing in front of the house with the cat in his arms. When he saw Arlecchino and Freminet entering their house, he ran faster approaching them and got goosebumps when he saw Lynette on Arle's arm, “Lynette?!”
Arlecchino put Lynette down on the couch gently and knees in front of her, “Lynette, can you tell me what happened? Why are you at the abandoned playground? It's 2km away from our house and we never go there.” Said her to Lynette gently.
Lyney tells Arlecchino about what they do when she's away, “Hmm, I see. Thanks for the explanation, Lyney. Lynette darling, can you tell us about what happened when you were hiding?” Not in a second, Lynette telling about what happened to her when she was hiding before. Three of them were shocked by her explanation.
They're relieved that Lynette was fine and didn't get any hurt. Later, tucked safely in bed, Lynette recounted the terrifying ordeal. Arlecchino promised to inform Mr. Neuvillette first thing in the morning.
As Lynette drifted off to sleep with Freminet, Lyney, guilt gnawing at him, vowed to never underestimate his role as a brother again. He understood now that their games weren't just about fun; they were also about keeping each other safe.
note ; a songfic inspired by LAST DANCE - BIGBGANG, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, may take a bit longer
The sound of footsteps echoed in the deserted apartment hallway, and the clock struck half-past eleven at night. It was almost midnight, and there was less and less human activity.
Eisa, often called Minghao, was carrying a tote bag filled with his monthly shopping. He opened the door to his apartment room lazily, and after placing the tote bag on the table, he threw himself roughly on the sofa and exhaled heavily.
"Life's becoming tougher around here," he grumbled to no one in particular.
Opening his phone, he pressed the music player app and set a random playlist. He tried to close his eyes, hoping that when he woke up later, his fatigue would be gone.
Eisa opened his eyes slowly and felt someone lightly patting his cheek. Trying to blink repeatedly to adjust to the bright room light, he heard a soft voice saying, "Hey, let's get up and eat first. I'm already cooking." A tiny hand extended towards Eisa. Eisa, who was still not fully awake, just nodded, smiled, and accepted the tiny hand. They walked towards the dining room, and the smell of cooking was so fragrant that it pierced their noses.
"Ah.. This is all I can whip up right now. I'll make sure to cook up a storm tomorrow." The woman slightly lowered her head, and that woman is you.
"It's okay babe. You don't need to cook much anyway since it's already late. It's just me and you who will eat, so don't be sad. Let's eat. Thank you very much," Eisa smiled gently and stroked the top of your head.
You guys ate together quietly, with only light conversation to break the silence of the night.
"I'm stuffed! Thanks a bunch, dear. I'll whip something up for you tomorrow," Eisa cleaned up his dirty dishes and put them in the sink. "What will you do, hun? I'll do the dishes. I'm the one who cooked," you tried to stop Eisa who wanted to wash all the dirty cooking and eating utensils.
"Honey, you already cooked, so it's my job to wash the dishes. You just sit here and keep me company," Eisa said as he gently pushed you back towards your chair.
You snorted and smiled, "Alright then." While waiting for Eisa to finish up, you strolled over to the sofa, picking up his cellphone that was lying around carelessly. You tried to change the music he was playing on his cellphone.
"Hey, why'd you change it? I have a weird taste in music, don't I?" Eisa walked over to you, looking a bit glum.
"Huh? No way, I like all the songs you like. They're unique. I just wanna hear a different song, and maybe dance and sing with you." you smiled and put the phone back on the table.
Eisa tilted his head and raised one eyebrow, looking a bit confused. You chuckled, he looked so cute and funny right now. "You're such a weirdo," he said.
You frown as you listened to what he had just said. "How so? I just wanna listen to some tunes and bust a move," You said in annoyance.
"You don't really like dancing, honey." Eisa holding your hand and squeezed a little tighter as he started to get anxious and confused. You stroked the back of his hand gently with your thumb to give him a sense of security and comfort.
You didn't say anything, just smiled and started slow dancing with him.
A confused Eisa just followed your lead slowly, your mouth murmuring some lyrics of the song that was playing with a slight smile.
I'm still young so I
Guess I'm still immature
Why am I so stupid
You're dancing happily, feeling warmth in your chest. It's just as good as the first time you did it. You steal the chance to kiss his cheek or hug him for a while. Then Eisa happily hugs you tightly and lifts you up while spinning. You both laugh happily.
As Eisa opens his eyes, the euphoria dissipates, leaving behind an emptiness that feels almost suffocating. Tears stream down his face, a mix of joy and sorrow that he can't quite comprehend. He wipes his face roughly, trying to rid himself of the overwhelming emotions.
The haunting melody of "Last Dance" by BIGBANG still echoes in the room, a cruel reminder of what once was. Eisa struggles to remember the last time he felt truly happy, truly alive. The song was yours, a favorite that you both loved to dance to, but now it only amplifies the emptiness he feels.
Eisa looks around the apartment, but nothing has changed. It's still the same as when he arrived, a silent witness to his pain. He tries to keep it together, to hold back the tears that threaten to engulf him. But it's no use. He sobs uncontrollably, feeling utterly alone and lost in the emptiness of the apartment. The song only adds to the unbearable sadness that engulfs him, a constant reminder of what he has lost.
Music keeps on playing and
I am here waiting for you
Give me a chance
Please just once
I promise you
It won't be long
Eisa bawled his eyes out and soaked in every single word and beat of that song.
I will sing this song
And I will return to you
If I can see
Your beautiful self again
I will listen to this song with you
And dance for the last time
Remember this moment
Forever if you must
Just one last dance
Yesterday night when I
Held hands with you and danced
With your radiantly glowing and
Beautiful one last smile
Red, orange, yellow, green
An ecstasy I can't know
It doesn't go with the world
That I used to see and feel
Yesterday night when I
Held hands with you and danced
With your radiantly glowing and
Beautiful one last smile
Red, orange, yellow, green
An ecstasy I can't know
It doesn't go with the world
That I used to see and feel
"Do you miss me again?" Eisa whispered to the empty room, tears streaming down his face. "Or am I the only one who misses you? It's been two years since you left, but I still can't forget you."
He tried to catch his breath, but his chest felt tight, like a weight was crushing it. "I'm sorry for bothering you even when you're not here. I'm sorry for making things difficult for you," he continued, his voice choked with sobs.
"I know you're gone, but I can't stop talking to you. Please forgive me." Eisa paused for a moment, his eyes closed tightly.
"Thank you for coming to me in my dreams, for making me laugh, hug and kiss me, feeding me and dance together with you again. Thank you for being with me, even though it's just in my mind." He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.
"I promise this is the last time I'll talk to you like this. I'll try to move on and live my life, but it's so hard without you. Please wait for me on the other side. I'll come to you eventually, but for now, I need to learn how to live without you."
Eisa couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He cried alone in the silent and empty room until exhaustion and sorrow finally took over, and he drifted off to sleep, still holding on to the memory of his beloved.
synopsis ; as you take the train to a distant city for the first time without your usual traveling companion, you recall the last time you rode this very train as a child. at the train station, you cross paths with strangers who are headed to the same destination and he offer you a helping hand.
pairing ; reader x joshua
genre ; fluff romance, contain momentary love
note ; it may be a little long, contain wrong translation or wrong grammar, I'm not a native speaker.
Footsteps clatter and heavy breathing break the silence of the hallway as you walk through it. You checked in at the train station at 5:25 in the morning, feeling relieved to have made it on time despite the tight schedule.
You muttered, "I think I checked in late and ended up not leaving."
However, moments later, you noticed an announcement about your train being slightly delayed, but the noise of the busy station made it difficult to hear clearly. You tried calling a friend for guidance, but she didn't answer.
"tck, she must be asleep." you chuckle and keep trying to reach her.
Feeling uncertain, you gazed around the station. You noticed a woman nearby but felt intimidated to approach her. You then spotted a man just a few steps away,
"Instead of me going all the way to this woman, it's better to ask this man, it's closer." you think.
The young man appeared to be a university student, judging by his appearance. He had a tall and slender physique, dressed in a over-sized black sweater, a pair of jeans, a watch on his left wrist, black and white Converse shoes, and carried a backpack on his back.
And after mustering up the courage, you approached him and asked, "Excuse me, are you also taking this train to the same city?" As you showed him your e-ticket.
The man looked at your ticket and smiled, "Yes, I am."
You were feeling relieved, but your nerves returned when he mentioned that this was his first time traveling to the city alone.
"God please help me," you said silently.
As the delay continued and more trains arrived and departed, the waiting area began to clear out and there were several empty seats. Tired from standing since before dawn, the man spotted an empty seat and claimed it for himself.
You watched as he settled into his seat and wondered whether you should follow suit. It seemed presumptuous to sit next to him without an invitation, but before you could take a step towards a different seat, the man suddenly turned to you and gestured for you to come over.
Confused, you gestured to yourself to make sure he was indeed inviting you. He nodded and smiled, continuing to wave until you hesitantly made your way towards him.
You smiled at him, “thanks but you don’t need to do that.” He looked at you and smiled, "It's okay, I thought you'd have trouble finding your own seat."
"Thank you so much..." You hide your smile by staring deeply at your phone screen. He just nodded and smiled and went back to staring at his phone screen too.
Without even glancing your way, he asks, "What's your name?"
You awkwardly introduce yourself. He nods and smiles, "What a lovely name," before finally turning his gaze to you.
You smile a little shyly and clear your throat, "so? how about you?"
“Joshua Hong,” he smiled, “you can call me Joshua.” you nodded.
As you both waited for the train, which was still undergoing repairs at another station, you engaged in conversation. Every time an announcement was made, you would ask him if it was the train you were supposed to take, and he would always reply with a warm smile.
As the conversation came to a halt, he went back to looking at his cell phone screen. Unconsciously, you voiced your thoughts out loud, "Even with his hair looking a little disheveled, he still looks handsome." You quickly covered your mouth, realizing what you had said.
He had heard your comment loud and clear. "Thank you, I must say, I am indeed handsome," he replied with a grin.
You jokingly responded, "Your mom must be so proud."
He chuckled, "She is."
Finally, the announcement of your train's arrival was made. You and Joshua rose from your seats and made your way towards the train station with the attendant apologizing for the delay. As you walked through the crowded platform, Joshua would occasionally stop and wait for you so that you wouldn't get separated.
As it turned out, your carriage was different from Joshua's. This might have been the point at which your paths would diverge. Sitting on the train, you couldn't help but think about him and regret not having asked for his social media account or phone number. All you could do was hope that fate would bring you back together again.
synopsis ; wonwoo is your childhood friends, you and him likes to read a book in the book store near your house but he is suddenly move from the city. after long time, you meet him again.
pairing ; gn!reader + jeon wonwoo
genre ; fluff
notes ; mentioned childhood friends-to-lovers, You might find this story a little long-winded, I'm not a native english speaker so if my writing has many mistakes or inaccurate words, please understand and give advice so that I can develop better.
as usually, you are going to the library alone to read some book or just take a nap at 1 pm before the second class session begin. you lean your shoulders against the chair hoping that all your tiredness will transfer to the chair quickly but the reality is not.
you start to throw your head back and slowly close your eyes enjoying the soothing silence. “okay, I'll close my eyes for ten minutes and then I'll look for a new book to read,” you mumble and say to yourself. but still five minutes in, the sound of footsteps and the creak of a chair being pulled makes you wake up but you keep your eyes closed.
the smell of wood perfume spreads to your sense of smell. smelling it, feeling it, feel more comfortable to close your eyes and go to sleep. suddenly you think of one person who has the same distinctive smell. "haha, no way," you reassure yourself. "but what if it's really him?" your mind begin to fight with each other, fighting to convince yourself who wins.
you slowly open your eyes and return your head back to normal position. taking a few breaths but your heartbeat is getting faster, like you're getting ready to run a race.
you see a man sitting leaning against a bookshelf, carrying a book in his hand. he doesn't look forward, he just stares down at the book he's taking.
“who is that? i do not ever seen him before, is he a student in the next building? if so, why did he come all the way here?” your head is very noisy right now just because of her presence. you try your best to stop thinking about who she is, even try to divert your mind to a book that you read but all your efforts are in vain.
the sound of footsteps can be heard walking towards you, trying your hardest to look natural so that you won't be caught fighting with yourself.
"excuse me, can I sit here?" his heavy voice echoes throughout the room but feels soft to the ears. you just nodded your head in response without looking at him. "thanks," he replies.
you cleared your throat, “so, who are you?” no answer coming out from him. “are you a student here too?” your voice gets quieter at the end. your eyes try to steal a glance at him, as he smiles slightly. “yeah,” his eyes meet yours as the answer escaped his lips.
unconsciously you hands covered your mouth in surprise at his presence. “for god’s sake, jeon wonwoo??” slowly your right eye feels something dropping, a tear. tears of happiness, not sadness.
he close his book. “yeah, hai ? how’s life?”
you smirk. “bad as you leaving.”
“is that bad?”
“guess by yourself.”
he is laughing softly at there, put his books aside so he can get a little closer to you. “i’m sorry,” his hand slowly reaching yours, he move his thumb gently along your back of hand, trying to make you a little calmer.
“i hate you,” you said with a bitter laugh. “where have you been?” his other hand tries to wipe away your tears, “yeah, you should guessed it yourself.”
you tilt your head, asking what’s the meaning in silence. “family issue,” he said. you gasp shocked, “don’t worry, I’m okay now.” you exhaling a sigh of relief is like releasing a burden that has been held for years and it turns into the biggest smile you ever do—after he leaving.
time flies so fast, it’s half past two in the afternoon, half an hour until your second session class starts and you have to rush to class. “Omg, i have to go now.”
he tilts his head, “where?”. your hands stop neatly arranging the book you’re reading and stare at him, “class. don’t you have any class today?” he shook his head, you rolls your eyes. “glad to hear that, take your time."
his hand gently pulls your hand when you are about to stand up, “what?” you gaze at him. wonwoo—who is pulls your hand—had no idea what is he doing right now, “can I go with you?” his eyes stare at you straight but pleadingly.
you look him in the eye. “where?”
“your class?”
“no, you can’t jeon wonwoo.”
“why?”
you rolls your eyes. “my teacher would kill you.”
his eyes opened wide after hearing your words. “if you want, you can wait for me here or in the indoor garden,” you trying to give him another options.
“okay, I will wait you at the indoor garden.” he answering with full of enthusiasm.
he also stands up and packs up the books he picked up earlier. after he is done with it, his hand grasped yours gently, giving it a comforting touch.
you huffs, "you'll have to tell me everything, from when you left the house until now."
he grunted, "it's too much, I can't do it."
"I didn't say everything has to be told now did I?" you looks up at him and grinned then Wonwoo realized that immediately. he chuckled then patted your head lightly, "nice try."
you and wonwoo walked out of the library hand in hand with a little laughter, "come back tomorrow?" you ask.
"Yes, I'm always here." He answering with a very shady smile. "But I'd never see you," you mutter thoughtfully.
Wonwoo ruffles your hair playfully as he laughs, "That's because you're always sleeping."
realizing your cheeks and face were flushed, you quickly turned your face away from him then snorted in annoyance as if sulking and left him behind you. he yelled while catching up with you with his merry laughter.
you point your little finger in front of him, "promise not to leave me again?" he frowned, and didn't move.
from that moment onwards, wonwoo and you always met at the library and sometimes went home together.
"oh okay", just as you were about to pull your finger back, wonwoo linked his little finger to yours. "promise."
Wonwoo smiles so wide that his neat rows of teeth are exposed, and your chest feels tight like it's filled with millions of butterflies that suddenly want to swarm out of there.
