TOP TIER

Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.

This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.

You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.

Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.

It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.

Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.

There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.

By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body waver between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.

You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.

It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.

Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.

It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.

Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.

On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.

You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.

The next day, Seonghwa was gone.

Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.

After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.

Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way you tucked himself closer to the flame.

You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.

When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.

You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.

He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.

Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.

You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.

Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.

The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.

To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.

One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.

That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.

You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.

Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.

But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.

On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.

The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.

Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.

Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.

He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.

A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.

‘Welcome home, my love.’

San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.

You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’

‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.

Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.

Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.

‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.

A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.

‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’

Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.

‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.

‘I’ll never tell y - ’

You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’

The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.

‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.

You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.

‘Now, answer the question.’

‘You’re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.

‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’

Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.

‘I’m getting impatient.’

‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’

His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.

‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’

You snort. ‘He tried.’

San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’

You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.

He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.

‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’

‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.

A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as you pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.

San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.

‘What is it you require of me, love?’

Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t  help but beg him.

‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’

‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.

San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.

‘Please,’ you add.

He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.

Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.

You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.

‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’

‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’

In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.

Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.

‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’

Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.

With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

‘How do you feel, my love?’

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’

He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.

The one person you had done everything in your power to hide from these people, from everyone. Hell, you didn’t even dare think of him ever since everything went downhill lest someone spy on your own thoughts. 

And now he was here, and worse, a droid. A lab rat. His left pupil flickered blue to confirm that.

“I’m CJ, the droid assigned to take care of your personal needs.”

“CJ,” his codename rolled like a foreign language on your tongue, your voice coming out as almost a whimper but you cleared your throat. “CJ. The housewife, eh?”

The droid appeared confused and you, for the first time, loathed programming the droid’s facial expressions to sync with the human emotions. “I’m not quite sure…”

“The assistant,” you let out a short laugh. “I presume you have your identification files and code?”

Jongho said your team’s code out loud before handing you the files and you quickly looked over them. Assigned by your own team- how fucking convenient. You nodded and handed the files back, peeking behind him- looked like he had his personal belongings. “Please, enter and make yourself at home… I guess?”

“There’s another document you need to look at before I enter,” Jongho said almost mechanically, digging out a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and your brows rose in surprise when you saw that it was from Dr. Jin himself. Begrudgingly, you unsealed the letter and read the contents, the smile falling from your face when you were done.

“Alright,” you breathed. “I see how it is. You can enter now… CJ-”

You caught Jongho staring at you almost like he was fully human. Fear gripped your heart in that moment and when he only bowed in response, you stifled the sigh of relief. He stepped inside your apartment, looking around. He was probably scanning every nook and cranny for potential threats. When he was satisfied, he turned to you.

“Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“Tonight… nothing,” you nodded slowly as you thought. “I’ll show you your room and you can uh… rest? You should wake up at 7 tomorrow and prepare a light breakfast for the both of us before accompanying me to the office. That should be your first task.”

“Understood,” he said and you showed him the spare room and he assured you he had his basic personal necessities. You went to your room, the coffee long forgotten at the kitchen counter and you shut the door. 

Make no mistakes.

You turned off the lights and went under the blankets, covering your face like you usually did- and that’s when you let out a shaky exhale and let your emotions take the better of you.

There could only be two reasons why Jongho was here as the droid assigned to you. The first one was pure coincidence- maybe he was just one of the other humans randomly selected by your team. Maybe this was all just bad luck. Maybe this was a slap on your face from the force above, since you dared to play god yourself. 

But another possibility… the one that made more sense, was that they knew. They knew Jongho was someone important from your ‘previous’ life. From before you entered Phase I of the Eden Droid Project- . They must have known and were using that to their advantage, but either way…

Either way, Jongho wasn’t sent to assist you and play housewife. That was all bullshit. He had one purpose, and that was to have you under surveillance. That probably meant that the New Government was aware that you weren’t as loyal as you appeared to be. Perhaps, this was a test of your loyalty, and they were going to confirm it with the task that was detailed in that letter.

Fix CJ.

Two words, yet you understood the message. You were to live with the droid for a certain period of time and fix the only glitch your droids had- that they were too human. All the while, you would definitely be under surveillance by him. Perhaps, the Team Leader thought that giving you the space you needed with your own personal test subject was what you needed to finish debugging the droid. Perhaps, they knew you had been delaying fixing the droids on purpose. Whatever it was, you had no choice now. 

You would have to fix Jongho or else you would be exterminated along with him.

—---------------------

It was almost unsettling waking up to the smell of eggs, butter and bread. For the few seconds that you lay in the bed, you almost thought you were back in your parent’s home and your mom’s voice would call you for breakfast or your sister Cookie would tickle you until you yell at her, but the bed was too soft and the blanket did not smell like the sun. The alarm rang only a few seconds later and on cue, two solid knocks sounded at the door.

“Miss Jeon? Breakfast is ready.”

God, you thought. This was going to be difficult.

You said you’d be out in 10 minutes and forced yourself to walk to the bathroom like every other day. Somehow, your steps felt heavier than the first day you woke up here. The feelings of disorientation and panic then were nothing compared to the anxiety that dissolved in your bones the moment you heard Jongho’s voice.

Whatever you did, you could not slip. You would have to keep on pretending that Jongho was just a stranger, a droid to you. Just a bug that needed fixing, you told yourself as you exited the room and walked towards the kitchen-

“I told you, the pan needs to be tapped in the middle of baking so the top of the brownies crinkle!” Jongho said as he took out the said pan, now with fully baked fudge brownies with a perfect crinkly top and you gasped at how good it looked. “Would you believe me if I say this really is my first try?”

“Looks too good to be a first try,” you admitted. “I’ll give my verdict after I taste these. Who knows? Might find an eggshell in there.”

“Hey, what do you take me for?!” Jongho looked offended and you grinned. He shook his head as he cut a piece for you and put it on your plate. You spotted a faint smile on his face and you dug your fork in the brownie, about to take that bite when he tsk-ed and held your wrist.

“You’ll burn your mouth,” he took the fork from your hand and you pouted. You watched him wait a few seconds, blow on that little bite before feeding it to you himself. Your eyes went wide as soon as you realised how rich the brownies tasted.

“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Jongho. You’ve just won my entire heart all over again.”

Jongho burst into laughter, looking down and you leaned across the counter to cup his face and make him look at you. “You look at me when you laugh like that, okay?”

“Stop it,” he wriggled away from you, a flustered mess. “Let me taste them.”

“Here,” you took your fork and blew on the new bite before handing it to him. He nodded in satisfaction. “Normally, I wouldn’t contribute to anything that would give you an ego-boost, but this one deserves it. Cookie won’t believe it when she hears about this.”

Jongho smiled once again, continuing to cut the rest of the brownies for later. “What did you mean when you said… that I won your heart again?”

You stifled your smile. “You want to hear it?”

Jongho looked expectantly at you in response. You scanned his figure- his hair messily swept back, flour on his cheeks, rolled sleeves baring his strong arms, and to top it all, your apron on him. Your smile grew wider.

“I fell in love with you all over again.”

“Miss Jeon?” Jongho called, frowning at the way you stood in the middle of the living room, your eyes stuck on the apron that wasn’t yours on the person who wasn’t yours. He wasn’t even the same person anymore.

“Sorry,” you gulped, shaking your head. “Needed a moment to process uh… what I’m seeing right now.”

Jongho didn’t respond and that finally made you move and sit at the table where he set down a mug of coffee. He would have retorted if things were normal and you smiled sadly to yourself at the thought. You heard the clink of the mug and when you saw Jongho pick up his own tray of breakfast and move, you cleared your throat.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“To eat my breakfast and give you privacy while you eat yours?”

This was the time to make things clear- better yet if you were being watched. You put one leg over the other before you said, “Look, I assume you know what you’re here for, CJ. Who are you?”

“A droid that needs a little fixing.”

“And how would I figure out what needs to be fixed if I don’t watch your every move?” You cocked your head. “Does that make you feel unsettled?”

“I do not feel, for I am a droid,” Jongho responded mechanically and you shook your head, urging him to join you. You detected reluctance in his movements and your heart sank a little.

“That’s the thing with you droids,” you almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “You forget that you are humans programmed to be droids. Until you possess human nature, you cannot be fixed… that’s what I believe. The superiors think otherwise. What do you think… droid?”

“I…” Jongho frowned again. “I’m just following orders.”

“I know,” you told him and he relaxed a bit. “We’ll need to interact and talk more for me to figure out what exactly needs to be fixed, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. You took a bite of the bread and he mirrored your actions. You ate the rest of your breakfast in silence, finishing together. 

“I will examine your code when we go to the office,” you told Jongho. “You will need to guide me a little. I may have created the blueprint for you droids but I haven’t programmed every single one of you.”

“You can access my code only at the office, by the way,” Jongho said and you set your cup down, almost clenching your jaw as you looked at him. “I’ve been programmed to reveal my code files only in the office.”

“Have you now?” You scoffed internally. “Well, I’ve been programmed to be a lazy bum who works best in the comfort of her home and I’m human, so let’s see how we deal with this… predicament.”

Jongho almost looked curiously at you. You checked the time and told him to meet you outside in 10 minutes. Just before he took your car keys from you and opened the door, you sighed.

“Do you know how to make brownies, CJ?”

—--------------------------

“Don’t you think it’s ironic?” You said, sparing a glance at your supervisor who was examining the code on the shared screen right across from you. “We’re trying to find an error in a human. Being human is the error. How do we override the nature of who the droid really is- completely and irrevocably?”

Mr. Han had heard that quite a lot, and not just from you. Every programmer and developer in this project had asked him this question at least once, and he often found himself wondering the same too. “I’m highlighting this line of code, see what you can do about it.”

You looked back at your screen and clicked your tongue. “Not this one. That’s Dr. Seo.”

“Oh, then I won’t tweak it,” he said, scrolling further. You glanced at Jongho who lay on his front on a stretcher with a cord attached to his back to access the chip and its data inside. He was unconscious which you thought was convenient but every time he came back to consciousness, you were afraid he was going to recognise you, make a mistake and destroy everything you had worked for so far.

How could you tell Jongho to pretend he didn’t know you without telling him?

“You look spent. Shall we call it a day?” Mr. Han caught you staring at the droid’s body.

“Please, yes,” you stretched dramatically, producing cracks and he chuckled at that. “The amount of times I have zoned out today… I think I need a chip inside me that would override my mental stamina at least.”

“Says you,” Mr. Han scoffed. “The child prodigy. The kid that built the foundation of this project.”

Oh, how you regretted that. “Please, you flatter me way too much. I was only one coder with a few hundred others.”

“But you were the youngest and your work is our blueprint. I have every right to flatter you,” he said, his conclusion leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Dinner at the cafeteria?”

“Why would I? I have my own personal chef now,” you grinned.

“I thought you were against droids doing housework or something.”

“Yeah, well,” you finished shutting down the programme and unplugged Jongho. “This one is quite good at it.”

Jongho was, and it was making you realise a few things- muscle memory. Something you nor any coder so far had considered to be a factor worthy of attention. You noticed that when he made the brownies for you a few days ago and exactly at half-time, he opened the oven to tap the pan against the counter once. 

It took everything in your power to not react to that. To not let your emotions take the better of you and maintain your composure. However, you did ask him if he had accessed some recipes recently before making the brownies and when he denied, you knew then. You knew that this was not only from memory but muscle memory.  

Could this be the reason droids were not perfect? That their muscle memory was ingrained in them to the extent that no programme, no code so far had overridden it? 

Whatever it was, you knew you had to keep this observation to yourself.

As Jongho started to regain consciousness, you maintained a certain distance between you two, glancing around- most of your colleagues had signed off for the day. There were only a few at the far end of the room and then there was Mr. Han who was just leaving for the cafeteria. You locked eyes with the droid and found your hands getting clammy when he started blinking rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. As soon as he looked at you, you started tapping on the desk lightly, waiting for something while praying for the opposite.

Waiting for him to look at what your fingers were tapping and praying that he wouldn’t recognise it, even if you were doing this to rock his human memory.

However, your prayers were actually answered this time and Jongho straightened as the confusion in his eyes disappeared. “CJ of Team 8.”

“That’s right, welcome back,” you sighed, tossing him his t-shirt and he wore it. It irked you a lot, how the droid was not reacting to having woken up from unconsciousness without clothes on his upper body. Jongho would have been a flustered mess.

This was not Jongho. He looked as different as he felt different.

“We’re done for the day,” you told him when he got up. “Are you feeling okay? Any haziness? Something off?”

“Perfectly fine, Miss,” he confirmed and you nodded. 

“Let’s go, then,” you said. 

Over the past few days, you had made no progress whatsoever with the droid assigned to you. You weren’t sure if people were expecting quick results from you- Mr. Han was monitoring each and every move you made in the office as if you weren’t already being surveilled by the droid itself. You were half certain that Mr. Han was also ordered to keep an eye on you but you’ve always had doubts about that man. His ‘fatherly’ nature was a little too overbearing and demanding at times.

You had no idea how long you were going to keep working on Jongho until he would be deemed ‘unfit’ like the other droids you had failed to save. Failed to fix, actually, but resultantly, they lost their lives. You could not do that to Jongho- perhaps, fixing him as a droid was the only way you could save him, but…

How could you do that to him?

How could you do that to him, you wondered as he set the table and settled down on the chair in front of you, saying his usual ‘enjoy your meal’ before digging in himself. You almost expected him to put a piece of meat in your bowl like he used to do before everything went wrong. You almost expected him to ask you what was wrong when you would zone out just like you were now-

“You’re not eating,” the droid said.

A simple statement, void of emotion, but…

Muscle memory.

Could this be what could really change everything?

“I… I’m just tired,” you said. The truth, but you wished you could tell him what exactly was going on. You put a spoonful in your mouth anyway. 

“You worked overtime today,” Jongho said and you nodded. This droid had a knack for sounding way too human, or maybe you were over analysing everything because it was someone you were familiar with. “Would you like me to make you some tea after dinner?”

“No, thanks. I’ll make my own tea,” you scoffed to yourself. If his muscle memory was really still intact, he would get your tea just right and you were not prepared for that. “Isn’t it ironic, though?”

“What is ironic?”

“Humans have made so many machines for the sole purpose of serving them,” you ate another spoon as you watched Jongho, noticing that he needed a haircut now. “All these machines, and yet they would prefer a human to work in the kitchen.”

“A droid is not a human.”

“A droid is a human,” you corrected, locking eyes with him in challenge. “A machine is something like… that coffee-maker. That microwave,” you pointed. “Something like that, yeah? As long as you have a functioning heart, you are human.”

“Whatever you say, Miss,” Jongho said almost dismissively and you rolled your eyes at his automatic response. 

“I wonder if humans need someone to work in the kitchen for them- for a specific taste that only humans can construct or to keep company or for whatever reason… why would they not send these heartless machines to fight for them? Why would they send humans?”

“A machine can only make so many decisions,” the droid said.

“Yeah, well, they want me to fully turn you into a machine,” you scoffed loudly. Damned be the consequences- if they were watching you, they should pay heed to your words. “What’s the point of you being a human-turned-droid then? We could have built a human shaped machine designed for war from scratch. We could install whatever thinking ability it needs.”

“But it would not think or make decisions like a human does.”

“Well, are you human right now, then?” You wondered and that finally got the droid to shut up. “Because you sure sound like one right now despite insisting that you are a droid.”

“Can’t a droid be both?” Jongho frowned and your eyes twitched in response- you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You searched his face for any signs of recognition but found none.

“I guess that’s why it has to be a human that gets turned into a machine,” you concluded. “A machine wouldn’t have asked me that question.”

Jongho didn’t react to that. He simply finished his meal and waited for you to finish before he cleared the table. You made yourself that cup of tea and looked over your code from today, wondering how you were going to proceed from here. If you were really being watched right now, you somehow needed to let Jongho know that he should not react when he recognises you. How were you going to pull that? 

It was near impossible. And with that thought, you went to your room to prepare for the worst.

You were trapped in a town that wasn’t yours. Just like everyone else here, you had magically woken up in your new house, in your new room and had simply been instructed to follow the orders if you wanted to live- no further explanation. What you had gathered so far though was this whole thing had been planned since decades. The New Government- the group of people from all over the world who were the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project aimed to create an army of droids and then distribute them among the powerful nations so they could have the ultimate leverage over the less powerful nations and make them submit to them. 

It was evil, it was twisted, and when you first began programming for robots instead of droids that were actually humans, you never would have thought that this was what it was going to come to. You worked with your friends Yunho and Wooyoung- an inseparable trio. As soon as your team sensed something darker, you all decided to leave and you cut ties with your family and friends, moving away without any explanation to attempt to make things right again. Your sister was the only one who had an inkling of what was going on and she had kept your parents calm but Jongho…

He didn’t deserve what you did to him, and now he was here. You were probably going to die by his hands. And maybe… maybe you deserved that.

You prayed your family was unconscious just like the common people who weren’t a part of this. Sometimes, you wondered if you had been fed a lie- sure, the world had progressed a lot but how could 99.9 percent of the world’s population be in a state of unconsciousness as they claimed? How was the world functioning? Machines could only handle so much especially if autorun, and droids couldn’t replace humans even if the world had progressed a lot in the past few decades. You were sure you had been brought to another piece of land and fed this lie so you would cooperate with them. 

Whatever it was, you had no choice but to obey. You were not allowed to question anything. And if you gave up on this project and they killed you, it wouldn’t make a difference because someone else would eventually figure out how to fix the droids. 

As you finished showering and sat down in front of the vanity, wrapped in your bathrobe to dry your hair, you wondered if this environment was created for the coders and programmers specifically so they could produce quick results. You felt like a lab rat and the fact that this might be true was making you nauseous. Just when you were about to settle down in bed, you heard the sound of a dull crash and you went to inspect- it looked like the sound came from the direction of Jongho’s room.

Sure enough, Jongho was picking himself up from the floor, brushing his clothes and when he looked at you, he flinched-

In pain.

You started tapping a single word on your thigh repeatedly, hoping he would understand it- just a simple ‘no’. No to whatever he was thinking, no to whatever he was about to do if he managed to get a few moments of clarity as a human. Jongho’s gaze fixed on your thigh and you asked him if everything was okay, continuing to tap that word.

“I heard a crash- did you trip or something? Are you having motor problems?”

“I…I don’t think so, I…” Jongho exhaled loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could rid him of the ache in his head. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Will you let me check if everything is good with you?”

“You can’t access my code here-”

“I actually can, I just haven’t been allowed to,” you told him. He must have known since he didn’t react much. Good, you thought. He was still CJ. “I’ll just have to override the security files… or we could head to the office. It’s going to take the same amount of time.”

“I think I’m fine,” he straightened. “You can check my code in the office in the morning, or right now- whatever you prefer, Miss.”

“Morning it is,” you shrugged, feeling defeated. “Goodnight-”

To your disbelief, Jongho was tapping something on his thigh as well. You did your best to appear nonchalant when he finished tapping a single command. 

“Goodnight, Miss,” he said in his usual flat tone before turning to go back to his room. You took a deep breath before going back to your room and sitting at the edge of the bed as you translated his message.

Help.

—------------------------

You were more suspicious of everyone around you including Jongho now- now more than ever, especially since you just came back to your office after presenting your monthly progress-

Which was little to none, if you had to admit. You did try talking in circles but it never worked in front of the panel.

“You’ve been here for 3 months now, Miss Jeon,” Dr. Seo closed your files detailing your progress and winced as if the lack of your progress physically hurt him. “I can’t tell if you’re being stubborn or if you no longer want to be a part of this. Because there’s no way you haven’t figured it out already.”

“I… I appreciate that you believe in me so much, I really do,” you met eyes with all of your seniors who had seen through every step of your journey especially in the beginning, when things were normal. “But I’m sorry to admit that I really don’t see a future with what we’re trying to achieve. You simply cannot turn a human into a droid and not expect some drawbacks- it’s humans we’re dealing with, not machines.”

“But it has worked brilliantly so far with your help and everyone else’s who has been a part of this team,” Dr. Jin, one of the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project said. “And I’m sorry but I expected more from you.”

“Has anyone else figured it out yet?” You asked.

“It’s not that we’re comparing you,” his smirk was almost devilish as if he knew exactly what you were hiding. “It’s because we believe you’re the only one who will figure this out. What is the one thing keeping humans from becoming almost the perfect version of droids?”

“Their human nature,” you said.

“What part of it?” He shifted in his chair and you wiped your sweaty hands on your trousers. “Emotions? But you synced them. Is there a fault there, or is it something we haven’t even considered yet?”

You fell silent. They were definitely on to something. 

“Should we have a meeting with the other brilliant coders of this project?” Dr. Seo attempted to break the tension in the air. “Maybe what all our coders need is to interact with each other and exchange ideas.”

You suddenly felt hope- you did consider the possibility that Yunho and Wooyoung were also here, forced to work just like you. If you could just meet them, if you could just see them-

“You know why we haven’t allowed them to meet,” Dr. Jin reprimanded. “I can only allow healthy discussions within the designated teams. Miss Jeon, if you need some help, we will accommodate you as best as we can, but I will have to ask you to be quicker with this. We do not have much time and if we do not come up with a solution first, if another nation beats us to it, we will lose our advantage. Don’t you want to go back home and be with your family?”

And that was it. The last straw. 

You were aware that this was some sort of a race now. Whoever would figure out what was wrong with the droids would have the advantage- they could keep it from other nations. They could use that as a leverage because they would be the ones with an army of droids at their disposal. Droids that could make excellent spies, fighters, doctors, and whatnot. Droids that would be weapons for all the powerful and selfish leaders of this world, to use at their disposal when they terrorise the weaker nations into submission. Sure, this was nothing new- the world was always at war with each other but with droids in the question, it could go very wrong. 

And the fact that they were using your family to bait you? The fact that most of the people here had something to lose if they refused to cooperate? How could you undo all of this? Every day, you cursed yourself for ever being a part of this project, for ever giving them the idea that led to this day, yet beating yourself over it would achieve nothing. You had to take action, soon. You couldn’t let them know that you had the answer already. 

You had to wake Jongho up.

“Everything alright?” Mr. Han asked, having spotted you zoning out in the corner of the office next to the window, glancing at Jongho’s unconscious figure attached to the cords- you hadn’t paid much attention to him today. He approached you and opened a box, revealing an assortment of donuts. You smiled despite yourself, picking a glazed donut.

“I just came back from the monthly report presentation,” you told him and he hummed in understanding. “How did yours go?”

“They reminded me why we’re doing this,” he rolled his eyes and you scoffed. “As if I’ve forgotten.”

“Do you think we can figure it out before someone else does?” You asked casually and he looked at you for a few moments.

“It’s not that I have an insurmountable amount of belief in you,” he began and you relaxed. “You’re only human too, and it’s been tough to be away from what was normal, right?” You nodded and he continued. “But I really do think that you can do this. You just need some time. Should I ask them to allow you to work from home too?”

“I don’t think they will agree, but I appreciate it,” you smiled. “They’re doubtful for the right reasons too, after all.”

Mr. Han shrugged and gave you the box, asking you to share it with CJ when he woke up. “He must be having a hard time.”

“Don’t let the superiors hear that you’re empathising with a droid,” you whispered and he winked at you before he went to his station. You went to yours, hoping the office hours could quickly come to an end before you could unplug Jongho. But…

You needed to access all his code files. “Mr. Han?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I could be granted access to all the code files of this droid? Even if it’s just a preview? I think I should check if some other code is interfering with my code files.”

“Should I make a call?”

“If you can?” You asked and he nodded. You went back to pretending you were actually working and Mr. Han told you that you would know your answer in the morning. 

You hoped they would agree, especially after today’s meeting. If they really thought that you’re the one who should debug the droids, maybe they needed to start trusting you more and stop hiding things.

And when you gain their trust and figure out how to save Jongho…

That’s when you would have to make a decision.

—-------------------------

You were not sure exactly what part of you sitting casually in the living room, watching TV with the smell of your favourite tea filling the room, a donut in your hand, rocked Jongho’s human memory but you watched him faint in front of your eyes and your jaw fell open in shock. You remained still as your own memory flashed in front of your eyes-

“Oh, what a sight,” Jongho shook his head as he entered his living room, finding you already having made home on his couch- a towel on your head and donut in your hand as you watched the TV while you waited for him to come back from the convenience store. Jongho put the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I found your teabags.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you gave him a look of gratitude before turning your attention to the drama. “I would have gone myself but you know how tired I feel after showering- it’s like a sign that my day is over and I should just relax.”

“Yeah, and how convenient for you that your boyfriend is willing to do anything for you, huh?”

“Of course,” you muttered absently, eyes widening at the turn of events playing in the drama. Jongho turned on the kettle and sneaked behind you, planting a kiss on your cheek that caught you by surprise and you looked at him as a smile made its way on your lips. 

“What was that for?”

“For being cute?” He booped your nose before going back to the kitchen and pouring the hot water in the cup. You weren’t interested in the drama anymore- you turned your full attention to him. He hummed an unfamiliar song before bringing the cups to you. 

“Did you leave some donuts for me or are they already long gone?”

“Of course I did,” you pouted. “Kept your favourite ones.”

“Good,” he slung his arm around your shoulders and you snuggled into him, making him laugh when your towel bumped with his face. You spent the next few minutes wrestling him as he tried to get the towel out of the way while you argued that on one condition- that he dry your hair for you. Jongho pouted in response, nothing going his way and you pecked his lips to make amends, handing him his favourite donut and he could only smile in defeat. 

You poked the droid’s thigh with your bare feet- he really was unconscious. You sucked in an annoyed breath- how you wished there were no surveillance cameras in your living room. You moved Jongho’s limbs so he was in a more comfortable position and went back to what you were doing.

Sure, you couldn't do anything about this right now but you sure hoped that whoever was going to give you the pass for accessing Jongho’s code files in your home would see this moment and make his decision afterwards. For now, you finished your donut and tea and as soon as Jongho moved, you sat down on the floor next to him and began tapping on his thigh.

Don’t.

One single word, but perhaps Jongho’s mind was too hazy- his eyes widened in recognition and you subtly shook your head no but it wasn’t enough-

“What are you-”

“Ah, good thing you’re back,” you attempted to sound normal but perhaps your unusually high pitch betrayed you. “What do you think? I should be allowed to access your code files at home now, no?”

It wasn’t CJ- it was Jongho looking at you in confusion, and you were so glad your legs blocked the sight of Jongho linking his hand with yours and squeezing it in confusion, in desperation. You squeezed them back to assure him that you knew, that you could hear him even when he couldn’t speak. That you understood him even when he was not himself. 

“Do you recall what you felt right before fainting?” You asked.

“Uh… confusion. Haziness.”

“All normal- are you feeling alright now? We can call for permission to access your code if you think it’s necessary right now, CJ.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered and he shut his eyes as if in pain. You immediately unlinked your hands and when he opened his eyes, the blue lens in his left eye flickered-

CJ was back.

The droid immediately started getting up and you followed, straightening your clothes awkwardly. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Would you like a donut?”

His brows furrowed in confusion and you went back to your seat, sliding the box towards him. When he opened it they were all half eaten- neatly cut in the middle.

“Sorry. I really had to taste all of the flavours. Kept a whole one for you, though. You might like it.”

You pointed at the chocolate-dipped donut and internally cursed yourself for asking him to join you for donuts. You had kept them to rock his memory but considering the events of today, you didn’t need to do that anyway. He stared at that donut for a long time before he finally picked it up to eat.

And you knew then- whatever happened tonight was enough. Whatever went through Jongho’s head tonight was enough- you didn’t have much time. You needed to save him before the human in him gets lost forever. With that thought, you went to your room.

To prepare for the battle ahead. One that might cost a lot of lives. One that was necessary to fight, to undo the damage you had done to this world.

—--------------------------

“Miss Jeon, I would advise you to drop your gun and talk it out,” Mr. Han’s fatherly tone almost made you put the gun you had been aiming at his direction down on the nearest surface and follow his orders- talk it out.

Except there was nothing to talk about anymore. Everything had gone so very wrong, so very quickly.

“And risk an arrest? Or worse? I’d rather not,” you attempted to scoff but it came out more like a whimper.

“Come on- what did you hear?” Mr. Han never moved the gun aimed for your head- good thing you were both stationed at opposite ends of the room. 

“Oh? Should I have heard something then?” You cocked your head. “What I saw was enough.”

What you saw was the file on his desk regarding the self-destruct code installed in the droids that were assigned to different coders- including Jongho. You weren’t sure if it was a careless mistake or if he left it out on purpose for you to see- maybe it was a mistake since you rarely ever went to his part of the office. But your suspicions were confirmed- they had indeed installed some self-destruct files in Jongho in case someone tried to meddle with his code. So with that anger- with that boiling, seething anger, when you went to find Mr. Han and confront him, you spotted him in the next building through the window talking to none other than Dr. Jin.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was planned. Anger consumed you and within minutes, you were back in your office overriding Jongho’s code files and putting him to sleep and then hacking your building’s system to turn off the CCTVs- just like you had practised so many times in the past few days. They may have the best coders and programmers in this building and you probably had seconds, but…

They had forgotten that you were the pioneer of this damned project. You were what they were against, and you had to surprise them again, just like the first time you did when you were still a stupid teen who thought they did something smart. You attached a USB in the main PC with an auto-run file to keep the system glitching while you unplugged Jongho and hastily put his shirt back on his unconscious body. 

You had a couple of minutes at most- you went to Mr. Han’s desk and grabbed all the files you could and stuffed them in your briefcase, taking out the gun you had slipped past the detectors a few days ago during a system crash episode- pure luck. The gun had been in your car for a while but as soon as you saw the chance, you slipped it into your office, not knowing you’d need it this soon. You weren’t surprised to see that Mr. Han kept a gun of his own- you were simply disappointed.

The lights flickered on and off and you figured the technicians must be having a tough time figuring out exactly what was wrong. You could hear your shallow breaths as you shifted your grip on the gun, the sweat from your palms making it feel slippery. 

“If you think you know what’s happening here, you’re wrong, sweetheart,” Mr. Han shook his head. “I’ve been following orders just like you. I can’t believe you’re being this reckless when you too must have a family waiting for you. Someone they use as leverage against you.”

“Almost everyone is here against their will,” you corrected him. “You’re no different than the rest of them. So go ahead. Go ahead and shoot me, but if you do, you’ll lose everything and everyone you love. Eden cannot debug droids without me- I’m sure of it.”

“I never intended to shoot you,” he sighed, lowering his gun and you frowned. “If we’re not being watched right now… we don’t need to do this.”

“Aim your gun at me either way,” you told him and he obeyed. “Did you know that CJ was going to be assigned to me?”

“I knew a droid was going to be assigned to you, but not the specifics. Is there a problem with CJ?”

“A problem?” You scoffed. “Imagine you were in my shoes and it was your wife that was assigned to you as the droid you needed to fix. How would you feel?”

When Mr. Han paled visibly, you realised he may not have known CJ’s identity after all. “CJ… is he someone you know?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know everything, y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m only following orders and supervising you- though you hardly need that.”

“He’s the person I tried to protect all these years,” you bit your lips as you looked at Jongho’s limp figure on the stretcher. “Can you imagine how I’ve been feeling all along? I have to turn him into a droid or else he’ll be killed.”

“I’m sorry, I really am, y/n,” Mr. Han lowered his gun. “Damned be the consequences. What do you plan to do?”

“I’m going to run away,” you told him, lowering your own gun. “With CJ. He won’t self-destruct for now, I’ve taken care of it.”

“They’ll find you,” Mr. Han said. “There’s no way you can be on the road and not be found. The car must have a tracking device.”

“I took care of that too- all it will take is a click. As for them spotting me… I think I know how to take care of that as well…”

“Of course you do,” Mr. Han laughed in disbelief. “Tell me… you know how to fix the droids, don’t you?”

When you didn’t respond, he nodded. “Tell you what- you can do whatever you want from here, but never, ever fix the droids, okay? You hear me?”

You passed a weak smile in response and he finally approached you, emptying his gun and handing you the extra bullets. “I won’t need them.”

“They’ll punish you for letting me go.”

“You can knock me out- I’ll play dumb for as long as I can,” he grinned. “Besides, I don’t think the cameras caught me entering the office.”

“Can you help me get Jongho in the car first?”

Which was how a few minutes later, you found yourself on the road, a jamming device fixed on the dashboard to make the surveillance cameras glitch whenever you would pass. You sped through the unfamiliar roads but you knew you would need to ditch your car soon- there was no way you could blend in when this was a black SUV with the office plate. You looked around the billboards and the street signs for any clue of your location but they were all blank or painted over. The only guide you had was the map in the car but that turned off as soon as you strayed away from your usual path.

You considered waking Jongho up and asking for help but there was no guarantee he wasn’t going to try something that would cost you both a lot. You decided to keep going forward and look for an abandoned building- it was getting dark and you needed to sort this mess out before you could proceed forward. Sure, you had prepared beforehand- you had everything you needed in the trunk of your car, discreetly putting necessities in the bag day after day since the beginning. From tools to clothes to food, you had everything.

Now you just needed to take care of Jongho- currently sprawled across the backseat, his hands fastened with a cable tie. You had no doubts he could still overpower you but for now, you had to make do with what you had. So when you spotted an empty area of the town with a few warehouses, you decided to take a chance and make home in one of them. You parked your car in the narrow space between two warehouses, deciding to hide it later with the empty tubs lined next to the walls. You searched the car for a physical tracking device and when you found it, you crushed it under your feet- you needed to take the jamming device inside with you so this was necessary. Then you turned off the infotainment system for good and finally sighed in relief.

You had done it- you finally ran away.

Just like you had run away from home two years ago.

You looked at Jongho from the front mirror and recalled the last day you had spent with him and your family- a memory you had kept in your heart as the days following got lonelier and regretful-

“Wonder what’s gotten into her,” your sister, Cookie, whispered to Jongho. “Did you propose to her? Is she showing off her housewife skills? Which are little to none, by the way…”

“Please,” Jongho scoffed. “I think she’s just collectively going to poison us all. She’s still sour about how we ditched her to go hiking last weekend, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, well that would make more sense,” Cookie said. “But it was her fault- I asked but she was too busy with her little codes to process what I said and told me to get out. That’s a no, right?”

“Definitely-”

“I can hear you both, you know,” you said, looking at the two. While at other times, you would have chucked something at them and ensued chaos, this time, you simply smiled at the sigh of your little sister and your boyfriend standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched you arrange everything you had cooked (or bought- they didn’t need to know that) on the trays. When you were finally pleased with the presentation, you asked them to help you take the trays out to the backyard where you were going to have a little party- all of you.

The two obeyed and marched outside singing another song that you didn’t know- Jongho and your sister got along way too well and were usually partnering against you. He probably adored her more than you but your sister was smart and knew she had to be on good terms with him so he could spoil her- and spoil he did. 

Your heart ached at the sight of the two and you prayed they would stay like this forever- happy. Even without you. You hoped they could fill your absence in the house and make your parents feel better.

Jongho’s parents cheered for you when you came out. “This is something your sister usually plans but we’re glad you’re not holed up in your room for once.”

“Thanks, uncle,” you laughed. “Just wanted a little breather.”

“You should have joined us last weekend!” His mom sighed in happiness. “The view was so good and the air so fresh. I think I feel younger ever since I came back.”

“I thought you felt older- you were complaining about your kneecaps- ow!” Jongho earned a smack on the back of his head from you and everyone laughed at that. Your mom patted the space next to her and you took the seat, urging her to try the sandwiches you made. The air filled with the sound of their laughs and you felt warm all over as you looked at each one of them, not saying much but committing this memory to your heart. 

You went to take a walk with Jongho later that night to share a beer and go to the park to sit on the swings and relax. Jongho asked you if everything was okay- he never missed anything.

“Perfectly fine,” you assured him. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today.”

“Me neither,” he smiled and you clicked your cans before drinking. “You’re a bit different today, y/n. If something is bothering you… you can tell me, you know that, right?”

“I know. I trust you, Jongho,” you looked at him. “You know that you’re the one person I trust the most in this world, right?”

Jongho frowned at the sudden confession but nodded. You continued. “And you know that I love you, right?”

Jongho would have gotten flustered and teased you but tonight, he noticed the sadness in your voice. “What is up with you? What are you planning?”

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Just wanted to tell you this before the night is over.”

Jongho narrowed his eyes but when you didn’t give in, he sighed. 

“I don’t know what the matter is, but I hope you know that I trust you too. And I love you too. You’re not alone. You know that, right?”

“I know,” your smile was genuine. “I know.”

And the fact that you were not alone was what needed to change. In the middle of the night, you packed your necessities and left the note for your sister in her room by her bedside which said that you ran away to protect them and you would return soon, but no one could know. You told her to stay strong for you and help the rest cope. You apologised for the burden you gave her but she knew- she had seen you cry in your room for so many nights. She knew you had done something and the guilt was eating you up. She knew it was related to your job.

You prayed Jongho would remember the conversation you had with him and not blame himself.

Perhaps, he did blame himself. Perhaps he never gave up trying to find you, which was how they found him. Maybe running away wasn’t the best choice since they found Jongho anyway- your eyes welled up with tears at the thought of all the lost time, the years you could have spent with your family. Maybe you would never see them again now. With tears rolling down your cheeks and a blurry vision, you surveyed the area and deciding that it looked safe enough for now, you dragged Jongho inside and propped him on a bench, coughing due to the dust. You took off his shirt again and plugged him to your laptop- there were some things you needed to get done immediately- check if you were being tracked, check if Jongho’s trackers were all blocked now, see if there were any signals nearby- droids or not, and finally-

Find out your coordinates.

—-----------------------------

“We are not in the office.”

“Clearly,” you muttered, hugging yourself tighter with your folded arms as you looked at the droid seated in front of you, unbound this time. The droid scanned the new environment, his eyes lingering at the odd things in front of him- especially at the cord and your laptop, your bags and the packets of snacks sprawled on the table between you.

“This is unauthorised,” Jongho stated. 

“Yes,” you admitted. “What are you programmed to do in case you find yourself in a situation like this?”

“Find my way back. If I cannot, I will have to activate the self-destruct code.”

“Going to be quite an explosion, huh?” You sighed.

“It will be very dangerous for you, yes,” he looked down at his limbs. Was he surprised that he was untied for once? “Why are we here?”

“Are you programmed to find out the reason for your unauthorised absence before you make a decision?”

He wasn’t. You got that from the red flicker in his usually blue lens in the left eye. This was the humane curiosity in him questioning things a droid shouldn’t have cared about. You shifted in your position- you hadn’t really planned this conversation so you would have to tread carefully from here on.

“Jongho,” you locked eyes with him. “What is the next step that you are going to take?”

“I can’t access the server,” Jongho frowned. “My code has been altered.”

“You didn’t ask how I know your name,” you whispered. “Choi Jongho. Don’t you remember me?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” an unrelenting answer from a droid.

“Are you programmed to self-destruct if your identity is found out?” You asked. He shook his head no. “Interesting. That can only mean they sent you to me knowing we had history. Do you remember the last time you saw me?”

“In the office-”

“No, you, Choi Jongho. Not CJ. You,” you insisted and he finally frowned- it was working. “How did you feel to learn that I ran away?”

“I… don’t know.”

“You know,” you told him. “Your memories are just locked away. Deep inside, here,” you tapped your temple. “All you gotta do is dig in and think. Remember when you, CJ, saw me with the donuts? Did it rock a memory of yours?”

When he didn’t respond and continued to stare at you, his lens flickering, you leaned forward. “How did you know how I like my tea?”

That was another odd thing that took place a few days ago. No one could make your tea the way you liked it. Only Jongho knew, and only he could make it perfectly every time. Sometimes you wondered if you simply liked the drink he made because he was the one who made it. 

“I don’t know. I just made it how I learned to-”

“Learned from where?” You asked. “From me. We learned to make it together, Jongho. Two dips, let it sit, add exactly 1/4th spoon of honey and dip thrice. Don’t mix it, let it sit for exactly two minutes before you take the teabag out and mix the honey. How did you know? It’s your muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.”

Jongho’s eyes widened just a fraction and you relaxed. You had him now. “We’ve been so close to home all this time, Jongho. I found out where we are- only a few hundred miles away from home, an abandoned town. I thought we were someplace else entirely. I thought only we were the ones awake and the rest of the world was asleep- surely they would have searched for you if not for me, right?” 

He shook his head as if in disbelief of what he was hearing. You sighed. “How did they find you, Jongho? Did they find you… or did you find them?”

“Y/n.”

Even though your name was called in warning, your lips parted in surprise because this wasn’t CJ- this was Jongho who called your name. And goodness, how long had it been since the last time you heard your name roll from his lips? How long had you waited for this moment?

You shifted to get up but he raised a hand in the air, muttering ‘don’t’ and you sat right back down. His eyes twitched in pain and he groaned deeply. “You need to get out of here- leave me here and run.”

“Jongho-”

“You haven’t deactivated any trackers- they know you’re here, they meant for this to happen-”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered, blood rushing to your head and making your vision darken for a moment. 

“They even know what we’re talking about right now,” Jongho cried out and you put a hand on your mouth in sheer horror, sweat taking root in every pore of your body. 

Muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.

Oh, how absolutely foolish you had been. Jongho got up and whispered, “They’re near.”

You mirrored his actions but almost fell on the floor due to the dizziness- everything was too much. This is not happening. Nothing made sense anymore- you had deactivated every tracker- how could they have found you-

There was a tracker on you.

How could you have been so incredibly stupid?

Jongho reached you in a hurry, the lens no longer a blue or red but simply transparent, revealing his brown orbs as he grabbed you by the arms and shook you a little. “Come to your senses, y/n. You have to get out of here- I don’t know what they’ll do with us. I’ll stay back and distract them-”

“No,” you cried, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. “I’ve run away once. I won’t run away again.”

“This is not running away,” he smiled a little as if it finally dawned on him that he was here so close to you, he was human and he had you in his arms. His hands were steady as they found your face, tucking your hair behind so lovingly, eyes travelling on every inch of your face.

“Don’t you look at me like it’s the last time,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me, Jongho.”

But perhaps, it wasn’t meant to be. Not this time. You heard the unmistakable sound of vehicles- not one but too many vehicles circling the warehouse. Jongho sighed in defeat yet from the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, it seemed like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here. He cupped your face and leaned in, locking his lips with yours and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally found a reason to. He kissed you surely and soundly, breaking apart to wrap his arms around you, his fingers on your back tapping rhythmically-

Morse code.

“What-”

“Shh,” he urged, tapping again. “Everything will be okay. Don’t forget this moment, alright?”

You nodded and buried your face in his chest- your safe space. “Have you forgiven me for running away?” You asked as the sound of the door being slammed open echoed in the warehouse- so loud yet the sound of his dull heartbeat was louder.

“Oh, we will talk about that. One day,” he assured you. “But for now… I love you, y/n. I hope you remember that.”

“I hope you remember that I love you,” you countered, breaking away just to get a good look at his face, at his messy curls falling on his forehead, at the absolute adoration in his eyes replaced by devastation when the soldiers who came barging in pulled you from him harshly and the last thing you saw was him screaming your name before you felt something slam against your head and the roaring in your ears finally came to a silence. You welcomed the darkness this time.

—-------------------------

“Y/n! Will you please wake up? I need to go to the convenience store and I need some company!”

“Go alone, Cookie” you groaned, “Let me sleep some more.”

“I’ll treat you to fried chicken.”

Now that was something worth opening an eye to take a good look at your little sister. Was she bribing you? Clearly. Was it working?

“Give me 15 minutes,” you said, getting up with a groan and she grinned. “I need to get ready.”

“It’s almost evening so take a jacket, you’ve been out cold for far too long. Thought I’d let you know the day has ended!” Cookie called as she left your room. 

Perhaps, getting up immediately was a mistake- it seemed like all the blood rushed down from your head and you fell back on your bed unceremoniously. You groaned in pain- why were you having the worst headache of your life?

When you felt stable enough to move, you made your way to the toilet and washed your face, noticing a fading bruise on your left temple. Now how did you get that? You reached for your toothbrush-

It was not there. Odd. You did not remember throwing it away- if you did, where was the replacement? Groggily, you made your way back to your room to check the cupboard where you kept your supplies and found no signs of a toothbrush.

“Cookie, what prank are you playing with me now?”

“What do you mean?” She called from her room.

“Where did you hide my toothbrush?”

“Why would I hide your toothbrush?”

“To prank me?” You yelled in frustration. “I won’t go to the store with you if you keep this up.”

You heard the angry pads of her footsteps. “Look, that prank was one time. You were so mad I wouldn’t try it again.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “The smirk on your lips says otherwise.”

“That’s just me finding this funny,” she flipped her hair dramatically as she went back to her room and you sighed deeply, the voice of your mom calling your names in warning stirring something deep inside you.

I will not cry over a missing toothbrush, you told yourself and got ready, wearing a denim jacket over a casual outfit. You went into the living room to drink some water and when you turned-

You almost dropped your glass.

“Can you pour me a little too?” Your mom asked and you found your mouth going dry, nodding subconsciously as you reached for another glass. You watched her drink- why did it look like she had aged a whole lot since you last saw her? Didn’t you just see her last night? Didn’t you spot the grey in her hair, the wrinkles around her eyes ever before?

Or maybe you always saw her but never cared to look. Your mom made a face at you, making you laugh a little as you broke out of your trance. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “I was just counting your grey hairs.”

“Y/n,” she laughed loudly. “I think this is my sign to book a salon appointment.”

“Yes, mother!” Cookie came in, squeezing her shoulders. “You should get your grey strands dyed a fun colour- like pink.”

“Oh, come on, what will your dad think?”

“I think he’ll like it,” she winked. “We’re going out- be back before curfew!” Cookie grabbed your hand and dragged you out before your mom could say her usual chant- stay safe, don’t do stupid things, don’t fight, and so on. It seemed like forever since you had heard that and a part of you wished you had stayed to hear it.

Before you knew it, you were deep in a heated discussion about school being fun versus school being a bad memory. Of course, for Cookie, everything was fun. It was kind of endearing how she always saw the positive in everything and made sure to enjoy every moment. You, however, were the pessimistic of the two, though you preferred the term ‘realist’. School did have fun moments, yes, but you didn’t have a normal school experience at all- you were always working with the teachers and seniors who could code. While that was the beginning of your career, you didn’t get to interact with people much and they didn’t make an effort when you had some normal moments.

It was a relief then that Jongho was in your class and never made you feel alone, you wondered as you finished the argument with your sister and the food. She was paying the bill- a rare occurrence because ever since you started working at a very young age, you made sure to spoil her (a mistake- the brat learned that she could convince you to get her anything). Cookie turned to smirk in some sense of superiority she felt for having treated you and you let her have that moment, chuckling as you exited.

“Ah, the weather’s nice,” you looked up at the sky- it was too cloudy to see any stars. “I’m craving beer. When will you get old enough for beer?”

“Just a few more months, sis. We’ll see who’s the better drinker out of us.”

“Yeah, I might be bad, but you can’t beat Jong-”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Cookie pointed at a cafe at the end of the street. “I heard they’ve added cookies to their menu. Let’s get some to take home.”

You rolled your eyes. There was a reason you called her Cookie. Before you could protest, she was already speed-walking, her short hair flowing behind her and you struggled to catch up, looking at your surroundings. 

“Yo, wasn’t there a barbeque place here?”

Cookie paused to look at you. “That was like what- two? Three years ago? You should really leave the house more. Being cooped up in your room all day is doing something to your memory, I swear-”

“It’s not that,” you, for once, didn’t argue, telling her to get some for dad too while you decided to wait outside. 

Why did everything feel so… new? Tangible? You looked at your hand, moving it- were you dissociating? Was it that strange realisation that you were real? But it didn’t explain the ache in your heart since the moment you opened your eyes today. And you were glad Cookie was lost in her own thoughts on the short walk back home, giving you time to think. Just like always, you made a tray with cookies and milk and knocked on your parents’ room, entering when they gave the signal.

“Oh, dear,” your dad sighed in happiness. “Just what I wanted.”

“Long day?” You asked, grinning when they took the tray and placed it on the bed.

“Not really, but was just craving something sweet,” he smiled and you scanned his face- again, the sadness in his eyes was something unfamiliar to you.

“Well, enjoy your cookies. My Cookie is waiting for me outside.”

“Always attached at the hip,” your mom shook her head. “I don’t know how they do that when she’s home all day and the little one is rarely ever home.”

You scoffed when they continued that discussion, exiting the room to see Cookie smiling cheekily with the box of cookies open and one glass of milk-

“Cookie.”

“I don’t like milk!” She protested. “You drink milk. I only dip- why do I need a new glass?”

“I don’t like to dip cookies in the milk!” You argued, sitting across from her. “I don’t like the crumbs you leave!”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” She pouted. “You won’t drink the leftover milk if I get my own glass?”

“Nope,” you shook your head sternly. “Want me to call Jongho over? He can share with you.”

“And who’s Jongho?” Cookie frowned.

“Oh, please,” you took a bite of the chocolatey goodness. “As if this prank is gonna work on me.”

“No, but seriously, who’s Jongho?” Cookie wriggled her brows. “New imaginary boyfriend?”

“Imaginary?”

“Yes, imaginary. How would you find a boyfriend when you’re home alone- oh, is Jongho a bot?”

You rolled your eyes so hard that you felt an ache. You unlocked your phone to dial his number but found no contact saved. Frowning, you typed his number- did you accidentally delete his contact info? 

“This number does not exist.”

“Strange,” you muttered. “Did Jongho change his number? Did you know about this and decided to prank me because of this?”

“Aren’t you the one pranking me right now?” Cookie actually paused to stare at you. “Who’s Jongho?”

“Choi Jongho? The neighbour kid? Your best friend? Your big brother? My boyfriend? Do I need to say more?” You laughed in disbelief. “Don’t push my buttons by taking it too far.”

“Y/n, are you… are you okay? We don’t know anyone named Jongho. And what do you mean the neighbour’s kid? They never had one- they moved two years ago, don’t you remember?”

Two years. You were hearing this number a lot today. You went to your room to grab a photo of Jongho and slam it on your sister’s face but the grid on your desk only had polaroids of you and your family- no signs of Jongho. Feeling the hair on your neck rise, you unlocked your phone again to find some photos but again, no signs of him. You started sprawling through your drawers, checking your laptops, the pockets of your clothes, your eyes a blurry mess and when you heard the small voice of your sister calling your name, you looked at her.

“Where did you hide the photos? Please tell me, I need to look at him-”

“Y/n, come to your senses,” she sank down on her knees in front of you. “Who are you talking about?”

You glared at her before snatching your hands and marching to her room- you examined the grid on her desk- again, no signs of Jongho. You went through the things on her desk, opening the drawers-

“What are you doing?” Cookie whimpered and you turned to see her crying as well. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with you, tell me.”

This couldn’t be happening. “It’s Jongho, don’t you remember? The one who taught you how to ride a bike? The one who protected you when you were being picked on in elementary school?” Tears rolled down in succession on both your faces- one trying to pick all the pieces that were threatening to disappear and the other trying to make sense of them. “Jongho, the one you called big brother? The milk to your cookie? The jelly to your peanut butter? Don’t you remember?”

“I- I don’t,” Cookie cried harder, sinking to the floor and breathing as if something was consuming her from the inside. 

“My Jongho, Cookie,” you whispered, gripping her desk. “The love of my life. You had a whole document on your computer about all your plans for our wedding- you made that when you were ten,” you laughed and Cookie chuckled as well, crying harder. “How can you forget?”

“I don’t know!” Cookie’s voice was loud in denial. “I don’t know him!” 

“Don’t you remember when I made food for all of you and you teased us about marriage and how I was preparing to be a housewife?” You laughed at the memory, Cookie’s ‘you made food?!’ indicating she was somehow more surprised to hear that. “We had that little party in the garden, his family and ours, remember?”

“That was-” Cookie paused, frowning. “I remember a party in the garden but… there were our neighbours there, yes, but not someone named Jongho- that was two years ago, right?”

Two years.

“Why did we have that party? Why did you make food?” Cookie looked at you, partly horrified as the dreadful realisation made its way to your mind.

“I… we had that party because I was going to run away. I… I ran away- how am I here?” You looked at your hands and then at Cookie. “How am I here?”

“Uh… this is your home?”

Home. You hadn’t stepped inside your home in two years.

It all started coming back to you in a series of chronological events- from that party to you running away from home and living in a studio apartment that Jeong Yunho had arranged for you. The two of you working to undo everything about that damned project that you could-

That damned project.

Droids.

“Oh… oh goodness-” you rushed to the toilet as a wave of nausea overtook you and threw up, groaning as you clutched your hair- Cookie was quick enough to help take care of your hair while you threw up some more, sobbing along. Your sister was also wise enough to shut the door and let you sob a little before urging you to get up and wash your face, helping you clean up. Once you were done and you had downed a glass of water, Cookie took you to her room and made you wrap a blanket around yourself- necessary at this point since you were shivering.

“You need to start making sense now. What’s happening?” 

You looked at your little sister. You hadn't seen her in two whole years, and she had grown so much in that time. She was also an inch taller than you now, you had noticed while walking. “Do you remember what we did yesterday?”

“Of course,” Cookie folded her arms. “You were in your room all day-”

“And the day before?” You asked. “And the day before that?”

Cookie’s brows finally unfurrowed in realisation. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember the note I gave you two years ago?” You asked. “The one that told you I was running away?” 

When it looked like she was still lost, you sighed deeply, looking around. “If I gave you a note that told you that I was going to run away but you could tell no one that I’m running away for a reason… that I’ll be back and you have to take care of everyone… where would you hide it, knowing you have to pretend you know nothing as well?”

“I don’t know,” Cookie sighed in frustration. “Why don’t I remember?”

“You’ll get your answers,” you got up, running your fingers along her bookshelf. “Where would you hide something like a secret note? Think, Cookie. They couldn’t have searched that deep, they couldn’t have found that.”

Cookie got up, looking around, and almost mechanically, she went for her underwear drawer and despite everything, you laughed. Of course. No one would dare rummage through her private things- but it got better. She had it taped on the inside of a bra.

“I don’t wear this one, so,” Cookie admitted and you shook your head, watching her open the note and read it again and again. “Make it make sense.”

“Where do I start?”

“From the beginning. Tell me everything.”

—------------------------------

Seeing a familiar face after riding a train all day was what finally gave you some strength to believe that things would be alright, and what finally put a smile on your face as you walked to your mentor, partner-in-crime (quite literally) and old friend, Jeong Yunho. When he spread his arms with a sad smile on his face, you didn’t hesitate to hug him, muttering how sorry you were to learn that he went through something quite similar to what you did.

“I’m just glad you’re safe, little one,” he broke the hug to look at you. “Are we sure there’s no tracker on you?”

“None- they put one on here,” you turned your arm to tap your shoulder blade. “Almost like a needle, Yunho. I would have missed it.”

“What did you do with it? If it’s stationary, they would know-”

“I put it on my sister,” you grinned. “And told her to act like me until I’m back.”

“Hoho, look at you,” he scoffed in amusement. “Finally told her everything?”

“Had to,” you sighed. “And this was the one step that I did not want to take, but she suggested that she could hold the tracker for me,” you handed one of your bags to Yunho who opened his car trunk and tossed it inside. When you were seated on his passenger seat, you asked, “How’s your brother?”

“Oh, all good. He forbade me to come back to the office after he saw the state I was in- broken limbs and everything. I don’t know how I managed to run away. Only a few months later and when I tell him you need me? He lends me his car with a threat that I better bring it back unscratched.”

“Damn,” you whistled. “Better keep that promise.”

“What about you, y/n?” He asked. 

“Do you remember how they took me? That part is still a bit blurry.”

“I thought they tailed me and found your apartment, but turns out you were just unlucky and they spotted you when you were going to Wooyoung’s place. They tailed you- I tailed them- it was a mess. Wooyoung and I barely managed to escape and when we opened our eyes, we were tied to chairs.”

“You were tied? Alone? Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “They should have tied my legs better- I walked around with the chair tied to me until I found someone and they helped us.”

“I can’t believe I missed that sight,” you exhaled in disappointment and he shook his head. 

“You should have seen yourself. I thought they killed you or something. What happened after?”

“Well… I woke up in a new world, Yunho. All futuristic with savvy tech and whatnot. It didn’t look like home. I was alone in a luxurious apartment that wasn’t mine, with a set of instructions to follow. Once I got to the office, I learned that all of us who were present had something to do with the Eden Droid Project- or something to contribute. There were coders, engineers, doctors, literally everyone they could find. We couldn’t ask questions, we weren’t allowed to talk other than for work, and we were watched like hawks. We were made to believe that only we were the ones awake while the rest of the world was on pause. Honestly, if there weren’t people like us there, it would have been so much more difficult.”

“Was there someone you knew there?”

“Dr. Seo. Dr. Jin. The big brains behind the Eden Droid Project- you remember them, right?”

“By faces, yes,” he asked you to hand his water bottle and drank a few sips while he drove on the highway. “So… what next?”

“My team- we were all tasked to work together to fix the droids. The droids that I programmed and the codes that Dr. Jin took forcefully from me when we were his interns.”

“He should have waited until we had perfected them,” Yunho scoffed and you mirrored that. 

“So it’s all starting to feel normal, a month passes. I realise I need to somehow run away and expose what they’re doing, but I have literally no idea what my location is and there’s no one to trust. And to make things worse, they have this brilliant idea to assign Jongho to me. They turned him into a droid, Yunho.”

“Oh… crap,” Yunho glanced at you. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” you pursed your lips. “They decided that I needed to monitor a droid closely and figure out what was interfering with his droid mechanisms. They knew who he was and what he meant to me. They must have had a good laugh seeing me pretend I didn’t know him.

“Anyways, he’s not functioning properly as a droid- seeing me triggers him into remembering whatever memories they’ve locked away inside his brain. I can see that he’s suffering, yet I can do nothing about it, even when he tells me to help. I trust the first person who acted like he cared- Mr. Han, my team’s supervisor. He does help me escape but…”

“But it’s all a part of their plan.”

“Bingo,” you sighed. “I run away with his help, take Jongho far away from all of this, block every tracker and finally get Jongho to feel human long enough to speak- and he tells me what this- all of this was a part of their plan. This was like a simulation for me- I was a player in their game and they waited until I won- or thought so. That’s when they got their answer to the question- what was making droids not act like humans?”

“What?”

“The link between their subconscious brain and muscle memory, Yunho. That’s been the key this whole time.”

“Oh. Oh!” Yunho almost stopped his car in excitement. “How did we miss that?”

“There’s a reason they got Jongho to be a player too,” you shook your head. “Did you find any signs of him?”

“Not yet, but I will continue my search tonight,” Yunho said. “Why did they let you go, though?”

“I don’t know,” you sank down in your seat, hugging yourself. “I woke up back in my house and they made it look like I had been there all this time. But… strangely, only I remembered Jongho. They locked away everyone’s memories, wiped any physical signs of him- whatever they could find. Cookie forgot who Jongho was too- she still doesn’t remember but she believes me thanks to the note I gave her before I ran away two years ago.”

“If they knew where you lived during that span of two years, they would have made it look like you were there all along. That might have been more believable for you, and could have worked- but maybe not. Wooyoung and I would have found you anyway.”

“Does he still blame me for what happened two years ago?”

You, Wooyoung and Yunho were teammates in the initial days of the Eden Droid Project. You were their supervisor and leading the project, and Wooyoung always had qualms about what you all did- rightfully so. When everything went wrong, you had an argument and a falling out with him. Yunho tried for a long time to get you two to talk to each other but without success so he let you two be. You and Wooyoung did often share your files as you all were working to expose the project but that was it. 

“He’s forgiven you. He forgave you long ago- he was just being stubborn,” Yunho chuckled. “When he learned you were taken, he’s the one who tried the hardest to find you. Harder than me too.”

“God, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckled. “Do I get to meet him now?”

“Oh, yes,” Yunho grinned. “He’s waiting for you- party hat and all.”

“No way.”

He was. Party hat and all. You couldn’t believe how much he changed- his hair was longer, he looked more mature, but he still had those fierce eyes and lovely smile. He greeted you with a glare but as soon as your smile fell, he laughed and you finally joined, smacking the hat on his head before hugging him.

“I’m just glad to see you’re unscratched- oh, that looks painful.”

“Glad to see you’re in good spirits too,” you touched your temple- the bruise didn’t hurt anymore but it was an ugly shade of green now. “What did I miss?”

“What did we miss?” Wooyoung turned to get the tofu lying on the table.

“Yep- that certainly was no less than a prison,” you laughed, your stomach growling at the sight of the variety of food on the table. “Can we talk while we eat?”

And so, you briefed them of your ‘prison time’ again, connecting the dots with their help- they intended only to get you from the beginning because only you could have solved that mystery of why the droids acted so much like humans- the link between their subconscious memories and muscle memory was too strong. You could lock away a person’s memory, sure, but the subconscious was something you hadn’t messed with yet, and never intended to either. The reason the people of that project could manipulate memories was because of your team too.

When the three of you were interns in the Droid Project, they had told you to code for machines, not humans. That was how you began. Artificial intelligence was nothing new, you were just aiming to take it to the next level. When they told you that you needed to start coding to make droids, they talked about a better world- a world where soldiers could be able to fight better to defend their land. A world where a doctor could hold an insurmountable amount of knowledge and skills. A world where a patient wouldn’t have to feel all of the pain he would be in. A world where, they mused, you could cook anything you like for yourself without having to go through the trouble of thinking if you were capable. It wasn’t such a bad idea to code for that world.

But it was Wooyoung who accidentally heard what the real deal was. And when he told you both, you hacked into several databases to find out what they really intended to do with droids- and oh, the revelation was startling enough to make you all cry. You couldn’t believe that they used teens to make the blueprint for a world where the Elites- the people of power- would be controlling the droids to make the rest of the world submit to them. This world wasn’t their playground, and they shouldn’t play gods- with that message, the three of you ran away.

And now you were here with the consequences of your actions, with no idea if Jongho was okay. You couldn’t sleep for the past two days and when Wooyoung saw you zoning out in front of the fire in the backyard instead of being in bed, he decided to share a beer with you.

“You look like you have an idea but you’re worried how it will play out,” he observed.

“I mean…” you wrapped your shawl tighter around you. “It can’t get any worse, can it?”

“If they still think you’re back at your home, you might have a chance. They’ll be unsuspecting- we just need to hack into their system and get the Panel to listen.”

The Panel being a group of coders and developers who were, at one point, part of the Droid Project but left just like you. Yunho told you that ever since you were taken, they had been quick with contacting world leaders and giving them a sign that something dark was unravelling right under their noses. He didn’t tell you the identity of those people and you didn’t ask- you trusted him enough to take the right steps. He also told you that they were trying to find a way to get Eden’s military to side with them, but there was no guarantee that the military and the government weren’t already working together so if you made a mistake, you’d be doomed.

“We can’t simply sit and try to hack into their system, Wooyoung, while they have Jongho and several other people suffering with chips inside of them. I’ve seen their experimentations fail and lives lost. I cried myself to sleep everyday and the only reason I’m still sane is because I need to put an end to this as soon as possible-”

“Well, you’re not alone,” Wooyoung told you and you took a deep breath. “We’re here. We’re helping you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

“I do have one idea, but I’m not sure you will agree.”

“If it’s something stupid and you think we won’t agree? You’re probably right and I won’t hear a word about it-”

“About what?” Yunho came outside with his own can of beer. “Was gaming and going to sleep but I heard the chatter.”

“You really should touch the grass once in a while,” you teased. “You can’t spend all your free time in front of screens too.”

“Whatever,” he plopped down on a chair. “Continue, please. Don’t stop on my account.”

“Okay, listen,” you leaned forward, the orange hues of the fire illuminating your face as you spoke. “I need to go and get Jongho back- you both know I can’t simply sit and wait for our hacking attempts to be successful. If they could be hacked, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Right,” Yunho agreed.

“When they found Jongho and me, when we ran away, Jongho gave me a short message- two words. ‘Yunho’ and ‘Strictland’. Strictland must be the name of the town they’ve made home at. What do you know about Strictland?”

“Did he… did he tell you to find me and say Strictland?” Yunho frowned. “Are you sure?”

Wooyoung looked as lost as you and you told him you were sure. You watched Yunho’s expressions change from confusion to realisation. “Do you remember when we first found out about the Droid Project, I talked about how this couldn’t have been the first time that humans have tried to create droids?”

“Maybe?” You shrugged.

“I don’t remember, I don’t think so,” Wooyoung admitted.

“Well, the term ‘droid’ only originated recently. There have been other terms used to define the concept of a human machine- and since, at first, the only reason for such a creation would be to fight wars. So they were called super assassins, X-fighters, and a bunch of other stupid terms. Whenever I tried finding more about their history, I got blocked. I even got a few warnings. I thought it must be some confidential information- it would make sense if the general public doesn’t know that such attempts have been made. But… I did find something that suggested that they did succeed once.”

“They did?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. “Wasn’t this supposed to be the first time?”

“I wouldn’t know? They sure make me feel like I’m the one who came up with this. I know I’m not, but I didn’t think that far back into the past?”

“The current droids, you came up with that,” Yunho corrected. “But whatever version- or versions- existed before… there have been occurrences. One that began in Strictland a few decades ago but there’s no evidence. It is said that everything related to that project was burned, all the evidence erased. It was quite a disaster and they covered it up with a few bombs thrown to call it a ‘terrorist’ attack- the military got involved and there was a major clean-up or something. But the facts never matched, and those who dug enough know that the government has been hiding the real incident.”

“And how did Jongho know?”

“Maybe he heard things? He definitely did. And if he heard my name too… they might be coming after me next,” Yunho concluded.

“Well, that just means I have to proceed with my plan.”

“What plan exactly is that?”

You told them what you were thinking. There was a series of ‘no’ from Wooyoung, ‘absolutely not’ from Yunho, but you made them consider every other option and when the sun started to shine its first rays on the trees, you all agreed that this might be risky, yes, but this was probably the only way you could win.

Fight fire with fire.

—---------------------------------

“You must have finally gone insane.”

You lightly shrugged when you heard that- it was rich coming from Dr. Jin when he was the one who pushed you to this point.

“I mean… it’s been a while…” your finger circled the dramatic red button, itching to press it- Wooyoung’s idea. You told him it was stupid but when he insisted that nothing riles people up than seeing big red warnings, you let him craft this goodness. 

“What do you want, y/n? Why are you here?”

“I thought you’d know,” you finally stood up, brushing your clothes. “You still have something I can’t go back without.”

“Oh, that stupid droid? You came back for that?”

“That is a human very close to me, which you must have known when you decided to turn him into a droid,” you glared at him. “Don’t test my limits, Dr. Jin. You know how short a temper I have.”

And you had proven that in the span of the last few hours. Your genius plan had been to walk to their office in Strictland, which was relatively easy because all the soldiers recognised you and whenever they tried to move from their places, you told them the purpose of the device in your hand. Not a bomb, but better, you told them. You had one of the soldiers drive you to the office and then you sat down on the ground, waiting for Dr. Jin to show up.

In the meantime, you had a messy confrontation with Mr. Han. You told him you had not expected him to cooperate with any of this but he insisted that he was still following orders to keep his family safe. Though you despised him for making a fool out of you, not even giving you a hint of what was happening, you could understand his reasons. Your reasons were the same after all.

“He’s my family, and I would have you bring him to me right this instant.”

“Or what?”

“Or else I press this,” you raised the remote in your hand. “And it sets off a chain reaction. A droid self-destructs– for real this time, no games,” you looked pointedly at Mr. Han. “and if there’s a droid within a 2 mile radius of that droid, it self-destructs, and so on.”

“All we need to do is snatch it from you,” Dr. Jin scoffed.

“Well, unluckily for you, I’m the droid that will be setting off that chain reaction.”

A chorus of gasps sounded and your seniors- the one who had once been your mentors- all gaped at you. Dumbfounded. Confused.

“You wouldn’t,” it was Dr. Seo that spoke. Your first mentor.

“I would, and you know that,” you extended your wrist showing a small opening where the chip was installed. “Do you remember this version of the droids, where you would still be more human than a machine? The one Dr. Jin was so quick to reject? Turns out it’s the better version- doesn’t require all the surgeries and whatnot.”

“That’s a bluff, isn’t it?” Dr. Jin scoffed. “You wouldn’t kill yourself over some droid.”

“Again, that droid is my family, and yes, I would kill myself if that means everyone here in Strictland dies and this cursed project comes to an end,” you glared at him. “To save humanity, a few lives sacrificed won’t be in vain- oh, and if you try to snatch this?” You waved the device in your hand. “This was just for the dramatics. It doesn’t work- I don’t need it to activate self-destruction.”

Dr. Jin’s nostrils flared in anger, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he tried to make a decision. “Any chance for negotiations? Because I won’t simply hand over Jongho to you- you couldn’t hack into him and deactivate his droid functions. We clearly have the upper hand.”

“You do,” you admitted. “And you can continue with whatever the fuck you’re doing in here, but I can do something for you and you can do something for me in return, right?”

“What do you suggest?” Dr. Seo spoke this time. “What can you give us?”

“What you clearly want. I know you haven’t found a way to solve that muscle memory problem yet.”

“But given more time, we could definitely do it,” Dr. Seo shifted on one leg, pushing his glasses up. “Why would we need you for that?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t do this without me- I’m the only programmer in Eden who can accomplish this,” your smirk was devilish. “You needed me when you began this project, and you clearly need me now. It’s a shame I didn’t cooperate, right? Maybe if you hadn’t used Jongho to rile me up, I would have actually solved the problem.”

“But you didn’t know what the problem was in the first place,” Dr. Seo said.

“I didn’t, but come on. I would have found out with any droid had I observed it as closely as I did Jongho. Now… I code to make the link between muscle memory and the subconscious dormant, and you uninstall the chip in Jongho and let me leave in peace. Do we have a deal?”

“What’s the guarantee you won’t try anything once you have Jongho?”

“None,” you admitted. “But if you trust me, I’ll trust you. For old time’s sake? And you know where my family lives anyway- I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.”

Dr. Jin and Dr. Seo looked at each other, whispering. Mr. Han looked like he wished he was beside you at that moment fighting with you, not fighting against you. You gulped down the anxiety bubbling in your throat- you had bluffed a whole lot just now but you needed them to buy it. Yes, you could self-destruct but there was no way you would simply just go back.

“Alright, I think we can work with that,” Dr. Seo came closer, extending his hand. “For old time’s sake.”

“You should apologise for playing dirty,” you shook his hand but he only scoffed in response. 

“You’ll have to follow some rules here. Protocol,” Dr. Seo explained and you cooperated this time, letting them scan your body for potential threats and then asking for access to your code. You let them see it- Dr. Seo had made this version with you so when he seemed satisfied save for the self-destruct file that you didn’t allow him to access, he decided to let it be for the moment.

“I have a condition too,” you told him. “I’ll work on uninstalling Jongho’s chip first. Once he’s human, I’ll play my part.”

“Okay- I’ll have a programmer work with you.”

Thus initiated the second part of your plan. You had successfully gained access inside their building and so far, their actions had been very predictable. Wooyoung was right about them asking to read your code too. The self-destruct wasn’t a bluff but you had hidden the real code elsewhere because you just knew Dr. Seo would attempt to replicate it if he got one look at it. You were pretty sure he had gone to note down what little he saw.

What he missed, though, while worrying about the new code was that you did not have one but two chips, side by side, inside your wrist. The other, a tiny thing, attached to the main chip. You finally pressed on your wrist to turn it on.

Surveillance through your eyes. The simplest, most basic droid function, installed in each droid as well as you. But you were reporting back to your server- to Yunho and Wooyoung, who were right at the outskirts of the town, who must have detected your signal by now and would be transmitting the live coverage to the Panel. The Panel, where different world leaders, scientists, human rights workers and other brilliant people were present, the group bigger than ever, waiting to see what you would show them.

And the first sight they saw- oh goodness. Rows and rows of humans strapped on to the stretchers lit by a light so bright that they looked blue. One of them was being brought to you- you were pretty sure your whimper was heard by everyone in the Panel.

Jongho did not look good. The signs of his struggle were quite visible on his bare upper body- a big, ugly bruise on the left side of his stomach, a long slash running down his right arm, a twin bruise like yours on his temple. You were never going to forgive these people. 

With newfound fierce determination, you nodded to the person you were to work with- a woman who looked to be in her late thirties with her stern face and slicked back hair. Without saying a word, Jongho was plugged to the screen and his code files secured with multiple passwords were accessed. Then the two of you started working side by side to end every running code in his chip. It must have taken only an hour and then you were done.

“We’ll take him to surgery. You can access whatever you need here while we take the chip out of him.”

“No thanks, I’ll take whatever laptop you have and work from there. He needs to be in front of my eyes.”

“I’ll get back to you,” she said and moved to a corner to convey your message. After getting confirmation, she allowed you to follow her to the medical section of the office. The lights started to dim the further you walked down the hallway, almost to the extent that you thought they were going to surprise you with something unexpected, but a turn to the right and you were suddenly in a familiar setting of a hospital. You were glad it looked normal- all the neon lights used in the offices had rooted some trauma in you for sure.

Unsurprisingly, the waiting room was equipped with all sorts of necessities you would need. The woman simply turned on the systems and plugged in the USBs before instructing you to wait for Dr. Seo. You rolled your eyes- nothing you could do about that, so you resorted to monitoring Jongho, trying to quell the seed of hope in your heart. 

Jongho would be okay. You would make sure of that.

The process of installing the chips in humans was something you had seen a lot- however, uninstalling the chip was rare. You tried not to recall the time when you first tried to save a person- it had backfired and induced a seizure. While you had worked with a lot of programmers to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen again, the people here kept insisting they didn’t need you to work on this because they thought there wouldn’t be a time when they would have to turn droids back into humans. But you were grateful that you and your team had been stubborn enough to at least make it a little better. 

Now it was up to Jongho and his willpower to make it out of there with full health. You weren’t sure what you would do if something happened to him.

While monitoring Jongho, you started working on the one problem that had doomed your life- the link between subconscious and muscle memory. You had Dr. Seo working with you from his office- it was no surprise that he was monitoring your progress and making contributions considering he was one of the brains behind this project and had a lot of medical knowledge to contribute from the years he worked as a neurosurgeon before he started learning programming. 

But since he was watching, that meant you had to do this properly- and you would. You understood that coming here to save Jongho meant you would have to share the knowledge that could change the power dynamics of this world. You could only pray that the Panel would make sure that these people would never get to put your theory into practice, because you couldn’t imagine a world where humans would be programmed to lose the very essence that made them human to fight for people that could only be called monsters. And you prayed your wildcard- getting the military involved- would work.

It had to be the longest three hours of your life. By the time Jongho was out of surgery, his vitals normal, you were almost done but your hands were trembling uncontrollably, your sniffs were getting louder as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to leave your body, because-

You did it. Jongho was okay, Jongho was okay. 

And you may have just doomed all of humanity with your code. You were pretty sure Dr. Seo might be testing your code on some unfortunate human right now. You should have gone with him- but you couldn’t leave Jongho. He needed to be in front of your eyes. You wished you had some means of contacting Yunho and Wooyoung right now- all they needed to do was tell you that you did well and you would be fine. But you didn’t have the means to hear their reassurance so you had to settle for the hope that the Panel was proceeding with the final part of the plan.

A military raid. Eden’s military against the New Government’s soldiers. Eden had never been so divided. 

A notification popped up on your laptop and Dr. Seo confirmed the validity of the code so far and asked you to wrap it up. You took a deep breath.

The last step. The final step you had to take in order to destroy the foundations of the Eden Droid Project, once and for all. 

You told him to give you a minute- you needed to check if Jongho was okay. With that excuse, you got up and went inside the ward to check on your unconscious friend. The surgery wasn’t anything big, no. It was just like removing a piece of shrapnel from your body, the chip relying on signals to send to the neurons. You just had to make sure that Jongho’s body hadn’t adapted to the chip’s presence so much that it couldn’t function without it anymore.

You wiped your face with your sleeves before clutching Jongho’s hand- you needed his strength, every bit of it. With your other hand, you combed his hair so it wouldn’t fall on his eyes. Jongho stirred in his sleep and you whispered his name. He subconsciously squeezed your hand before his eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t surprised- seeing you wake him up was nothing new, though it had been quite a while. He looked around to get his bearings-

“Oh, goodness, what are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too,” you laughed, wiping your eyes again. “How are you feeling? Can you move? Is your vision okay?”

“Never been better,” Jongho groaned as he sat up, exhaling. “I feel tired. That’s new.”

“That means you’re human,” you smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re no longer a droid, Jongho,” you told him, for once pleased with your work. “You’re okay now.”

“But where are we?”

“Still there,” you let go of his hand to squeeze his shoulder, letting it trail down his bicep which was when you started tapping. “You’ll go home soon, I promise.”

“And you?” He asked, “Won’t you come too?”

“I’ll be right behind,” you kissed his forehead, having finished tapping your message on his skin. Jongho squeezed your hand in warning but you shook your head. “I have to wrap things up here, but I promise I’ll be home soon.”

“We go together, or we don’t go at all.”

“Jongho-”

“I won’t leave you behind, not this time,” he shook his head fiercely. “I know you’re strong. But we’ve always worked better together, haven’t we?”

“You’re still recovering though.”

Jongho called your name in warning and you caved in. You told him to make sure to follow your instructions and you made a request to Dr. Seo that you wanted to be there to witness the end of this. Dr. Seo sent an escort who accompanied the two of you to a lab where he was indeed working on an unfortunate young man just like you had suspected. Dr. Seo cast a wary look at Jongho before turning to you.

“You’ve worked brilliantly so far, Miss Jeon. Shall we begin?”

You nodded and asked Jongho to take a seat. You first went to check the man’s vitals, taking note of his label - CS, 005. “He’s one of the first few, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Dr. Seo confirmed, setting up your station. “A volunteer, though he didn’t quite know what he was getting into at that time.”

“Right,” you muttered, swallowing the distaste his words brought. “I’ll start now.”

Feeling sorry for the man who was about to lose the last shreds of humanity in him, perhaps forever, you started typing the codes, Dr. Seo watching from his screen across you. There were just a few lines of command left to type and you cast a quick glance at Jongho who passed a subtle nod. 

He was ready. And so were you. 

You had tapped a message to Jongho- Cookie’s play. A joke that ran in both your families of how Cookie would pretend to be sick whenever she wanted to have her way or skip school. And he was going to do just that. 

Jongho groaned loudly in pain, clutching his head, causing Dr. Seo to stop what he was doing and frown at him in confusion while you asked Jongho if everything was okay, your fingers typing a series of codes that were going to be your salvation now. Jongho fell on his knees and you, feigning panic, got up along with Dr. Seo who was genuinely worried for Jongho’s wellbeing since you had made sure that you weren’t going to give them anything if he wouldn’t make it out alive. You started walking across the room to where Jongho was, the droid CS on your way and you paused just a fraction of a second to slip your chip- the small chip they had missed during inspection- in the port on his back from where he was plugged to the system. 

You rushed to Jongho and asked him if he was okay- he continued to act like his head was going to burst open with pain and just when Dr. Seo took out his phone to call someone, Jongho pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and placing a hand over his mouth. You didn’t wait to see who would win as they started clawing at each other- you ran back to your station to your laptop, glancing once at Dr. Seo’s panicked face before pressing enter and enabling the ‘run’ function.

The guards outside must have heard some commotion and one of them peeked in to check but it was too late- thanks to Dr. Seo being impatient and sceptical, testing your code after every few minutes, it only took a handful of seconds for the code to stop running itself which was when the droid opened its eyes. Dr. Seo finally managed to land a punch on Jongho and get him to let go of him. He rushed towards you but before he could stop the guards, one of them yelled ‘freeze!’ and you raised your hands-

Unplugging the droid in the process.

“What have you done-” Dr. Seo reached for his screen to read the code, consumed by confusion and panic as he read the last lines which must be making no sense to him now-

Because the original code was also in that mini chip you had sneaked in. If this went well, you would owe Yunho your life- and Jongho’s.

“CS, 005, what’s your status?” You whispered just so the droid could hear. 

“Okay,” he confirmed.

“Then get up and protect us from the threat.”

You thought you saw the slightest hint of a smirk on the droid’s face and before you could ponder over it, he rose to full glory, straightening and cracking his neck before asking you to take cover. 

What you saw next was something you were sure you would never forget. There was no way this person wasn’t a skilled fighter before he became a droid because he dodged each bullet with expertise and kicked the gun out of the guard’s hand, catching it mid-air and pointing it at Dr. Seo, creeping towards him and holding him at gunpoint.

“Down on your knees, now,” he commanded and the guard obeyed instantly, backup arriving too late. Nothing they could do now- the Head Coder of this project could lose his life if someone made a wrong move.

“How,” Dr. Seo muttered when he spotted you from the corner of his eye. “I saw the code- there was nothing.”

“It’s just like what you did with Jongho and the other droids,” you finally let out the laugh you had been holding. “I am the master now, and my wish is his command. Isn’t that right, CS?”

He nodded in response and Jongho whistled, thoroughly impressed by you. You took out Dr. Seo’s phone from his pocket, unlocked it and called Dr. Jin.

“Is it done?”

“Uh, you might want to come here, Dr. Jin,” you said innocently. “We may have an emergency.”

You hung up before he could respond and Mr. Han came bursting into the room, freezing when he saw just what was going on.

“Uh, I was going to inform you that there’s been a military raid but it looks like it was planned…”

“Maybe,” you shrugged but you couldn’t keep in the sigh of relief- all hope was not lost after all. The military was on with you in this one- looks like the Panel had played their part well.

Mr. Han, to your surprise, was smiling in satisfaction. “Is it going to be over soon?”

“For you lot, yes,” you narrowed your eyes. “You don’t look too mad about it.”

“I’m not,” he smiled and you tried to figure out just what he was thinking but Dr. Jin appeared, fuming. The old man looked like he was going to have a stroke any second.

“Stand. Down.” He commanded. “Or you’ll face the worst consequences, Miss Jeon.”

“Like what?” You cocked your head. “I could have this droid blow your favourite coder’s brains out, right here. I don’t think it can get worse than that-”

Dr. Jin’s phone rang and when he frowned at his screen, you finally let the little ray of hope you had been harbouring in your heart consume you. Dr. Jin picked up the call and you watched all the blood drain from his face. 

“Ah… It can get worse,” you finally grinned, looking at Jongho who appeared a little lost but squeezed your hand in assurance anyway. “CS, you will continue to hold Dr. Seo as leverage until I give you the signal. Dr. Jin… I think it’s time you sit down and accept your defeat.”

Dr. Jin scoffed and attempted to leave the room but you shared one look with the droid and he knew what to do- with impeccable aim, he fired the gun in his direction, hitting right in the middle of his calf. His painful yell echoed throughout the vicinity and some of the guards pointed the gun in your direction instinctively while some rushed to help the man. You ignored Dr. Seo’s series of curses aimed at you amidst the chaos. Soon, a man in Eden’s staple blue military uniform walked in followed by a group of soldiers, ordering them to start arresting everyone in the building- and to your surprise, he nodded at you. CS finally let go of Dr. Seo only for him to be handcuffed and escorted outside.

“Thank you for coming,” you said as a greeting to Eden’s Military Commander- everyone in the room must have recognised him seeing how they were so willingly cooperating now. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

“It took me quite some convincing to come, but seeing what’s going on here,” the tall man looked around, “I think it was necessary. If you could be so kind as to guide me through the appropriate measures to be taken regarding the droids?”

“Yes- can you make sure Mr. Choi is escorted safely outside first? He might require some medical attention-”

“Y/n-”

“It’s okay, Jongho,” you assured with a smile. “It’s going to take me a while here, but I’ll be with Yunho and Wooyoung. I’ll be okay.”

Jongho looked at the Commander for permission and he nodded, letting him take you to a side for a little privacy. “I’m anxious, y/n. I don’t want to leave you here-”

“I’m not alone, trust me,” you took both his hands in yours. “I need you to get out of here and get to Cookie, okay? She’s going to be worried sick- she knows everything now.”

“Really?” Jongho shook his head. “What about your parents? My parents- are they okay?”

“They’re all fine,” you told him. “They had a memory blocker but Yunho was going to take care of that before he came here. Everything will be normal when you go back.”

“Not normal. Not if you’re not there,” he said and you laughed at that.

“Jongho, I’m so thankful to you for a number of things. I’ll tell you all about it once we’re back, okay?” You promised. “But I need to take care of all the droids first. You know they can’t keep on living like this anymore. You know that better than anyone.”

Jongho nodded reluctantly and you continued. “You saved me today, Jongho. I’ll thank you for that now. And you need to be safe, at home with our families, so I can work peacefully here, okay? We’ll be in contact- here,” you went to grab a paper and pen to scribble your contact number. “You can call me whenever.”

“Alright,” he finally gave in, bringing you in for a hug and you gladly soaked in every bit of it. You needed that for what was next.

—--------------------------

“You’re burning the toasts, Wooyoung.”

“They need to be just the right amount of brown for this dish to come together,” Wooyoung tsk-ed at your ignorance and you scoffed, looking for someone to back you but apparently everyone’s new favourite sport was to gang up on you now.

“We get that you’ve not been in the kitchen for a while,” Jongho began. “But how did you survive living alone in Strictland?”

“Let me guess. Instant noodles and microwave food,” Cookie shook her head in disappointment when you pursed your lips guiltily. “Mom’s gonna have a stroke if she hears.”

“Shut up,” you muttered though your heart ached at the mention of your mother- two years of not knowing where her daughter was had really aged her. “And you’re laughing, Yunho. As if you’re one to say.”

“Still better than you,” he stuck out his tongue at you and before you could retort, you heard the door open.

“I’ve set everything, what’s taking so long?” San said, going to check on Wooyoung. “Now that looks good.”

“See?” Wooyoung turned to look at you. “Man’s got taste.”

“I think I was better off coding in my room, what say you, Cookie?” You turned to leave but Yunho grabbed your arm and swung you back to your spot, laughing along with Jongho. You noticed Cookie was too busy staring at San who was helping Wooyoung plate the last of the dishes now. You met Jongho’s eyes and you shook your heads- her crush on San was way too obvious. Yunho shook his head, amused, and you all decided to let her have her moment.

It had been about 3 months since the raid in Strictland and since then, you were working on wiping clean any signs of the Droid Project in the land. You, Yunho and Wooyoung had worked day and night for a whole month to turn the hundreds of droids back to normal and then it was the military’s job to get them back to where they belonged. Everyone had unanimously agreed that since you guys were the brains behind this, it was your decision if you wanted to keep the data or delete everything permanently. One look at Yunho and it was decided- you were going to burn everything related to the project. It had almost caused the world to lose its humanity. There should be no signs of it anymore.

Everyone who was a part of the Eden Droid Project was tried in court and imprisoned with heavy sentences of treason, especially those who had collaborated with people from other nations and risked their homeland’s security. These included everyone who willingly cooperated- testimonies were heard, yes, but they didn’t prove to be much valuable. All the military needed was a background check of their activities which attested to their willingness- people like you who had left the project in its early stages and suddenly found themselves back were let go of with non-disclosure agreements. Some were put on probation but it turned out good.

What surprised you was when you were called as a witness for Mr. Han’s testimony. He revealed that he had purposely not blocked your memories of Jongho so you would quickly realise what was going on and do something about this project. Since he had always been a part of this project, it was hard to believe that he had contributed to the downfall of this project but you had to agree- if it weren’t for him, things would have been much, much different. He got the lightest sentence among those who willingly participated in this project and he was grateful that you came on his behalf. You figured you couldn’t be mad at him for too long- he probably did what he did for his family too.

The Panel was sure to not let a whisper of this project out- everything was hushed and treaties were signed. You met with a few of the members who commended your efforts but you didn’t take any credit. You did what you had to. You only asked for one favour- to let you and your friends be. You were never going to play with the idea of droids again- this was enough. You were simply going to work on the last droid- CS- from ‘the headquarters’ which was Yunho and Wooyoung’s home. The Panel agreed- they knew better than to get on your wrong side. If the world came to hear about what happened in Strictland, the establishments would collapse. 

As for San, your new friend… he was CS- the droid. The person you felt the most sorry for. The person you had apologised to at least a hundred times in a span of the past few months because it took you the longest to get his droid functions to hibernate, and once he became somewhat human?

You recalled the look in his eyes that absolutely shattered you- the look of guilt and horror. It was very messy at first, countless arguments as you tried to convince him that you were not a monster (but weren’t you? You created the droids, after all) and that you were so sorry for using him as a weapon and as a shield, and you were sorry for what he had to go through all this time. Sometimes, it looked like you two were getting along but then one night, you had your worst argument- screaming and yelling, tears and anger. Yunho and Wooyoung had been out and they chose the worst (arguable) timing to come back home- with Cookie and Jongho. 

And how Cookie defended you. When she heard the yells, she stormed inside and hugged you and you sobbed into her chest while she sent daggers in the stranger’s direction. And then what she said afterwards was how you got here- to being a group of tightly knit friends.

“My sister has been used, manipulated, held hostage in a simulation and made to code you droids with the threat of her family hanging on her head. She went back to sacrifice herself and everyone including you if that meant the world could be a safer place for the rest of us, so don’t you dare call her a monster. If it weren’t for her, you would have been their first killing machine, do you understand? You should be thanking her for trying to save you- she’s still a fucking droid and refuses to feel tired or sleep until you can!”

“Cookie!” You scolded. “Language!”

“I’m almost 18 now, I’m not a kid anymore,” she glared at you and you felt that stab, having missed two of the most important years of her life. She went back to glaring at San who looked… starstruck? “She didn’t see her family and her boyfriend in 2 years because she was afraid she’d hurt us. Don’t you call her a monster ever again.”

Now? Now you smiled proudly whenever you thought of that night. After Cookie’s outburst, everyone was too surprised to say anything and it was Wooyoung who tried to cut the tension in the air by asking Cookie to take you to his room. Jongho stood gaping at the little kid he had practically raised, muttering, “I did not raise her like this but damn.” And he was right. The boys had a good laugh and San slept over it and realised he may have been acting like an idiot. 

And that idiot was clearly very curious about Cookie, you realised when he opened his birthday present for her to reveal a lilac cardigan- Cookie had very casually pointed at someone’s cardigan in the street calling it cute. You did not expect San to be so observant. 

“Oh, this is lovely,” Cookie ran a hand over the cardigan’s soft fabric. “The colour- I love it, San.”

“Stop shooting daggers at San,” Jongho, who was sitting next to you, whispered, poking your stomach and you swatted his hand away.

“I can’t help it,” you whispered back, eyes still locked in San’s direction. “He’s getting way too chummy with her lately. I don’t approve.”

“You literally told San you love him like, two days ago,” Jongho pointed out and you glared at him.

“That’s because he got me my favourite brownie when I had been working all night long,” you said as if that warranted your admission of love for him. “As a polite servant should. His master is losing sleep trying to get his droidy senses back to human.”

“This droid still possesses his super hearing,” San whispered just for you to hear- you possessed that too. “So maybe shut up.”

“Stop looking at Cookie like that and I’ll shut up,” you countered and Jongho laughed out loud, having put two and two together from what he heard you whisper to San. “Don’t make me activate the master-servant dynamics back.”

“Oh, stop that,” Cookie glared at the two of you and you both immediately pretended to be normal, smiling at her. “Please get along for once. It’s my birthday. Where’s your gift, sis?”

“Uhh,” you looked around, digging in your pocket, “Here.”

A finger-heart. Cookie groaned loudly and everyone laughed as you ran for your life when she got up from her chair. “It’s on the way!” You yelled. “I forgot to order it on time!”

“It better be good or else I’ll have San droid-handle you!”

You stopped running, coincidentally finding yourself behind San’s chair. “You wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, right?”

“Your wish is not my command but her wish,” San pointed at Cookie before looking at you with that smirk you wished to wipe off his face, “very well might be.”

“Oh, I’m going back to code,” you started and San laughed, grabbing your hand before you could go inside and apologising like a true gentleman (he was actually a gentleman, you found). Wooyoung complained that the food was going to get cold if you all kept joking around and you finally gave in, settling between San and Jongho and digging into the feast.

It was heartwarming to have all of them together like this, after everything that you went through. You had never felt more content in your life, and it showed, even though you hadn’t reached the finish line yet. You still had to turn San and yourself back to normal- you had been far too busy erasing all evidence of the Droid Project to worry about yourself. As for San, it was a sensitive line to tread on. You did not want to hasten it and he understood- he was just glad that his droid functions could be controlled at his will. He was content too, having reunited with his family and found another here.

Jongho noticed you smiling to yourself as you walked back home from the convenience store- you had gone to get more drinks but you also volunteered because you wanted to take Jongho along with you. You barely had alone time with him ever since you came back so you made most of the stolen moments. 

“What’s going on in your head?” Jongho teased, elbowing you lightly.

“Nothing. I’m just happy,” you grinned. The simple truth- you were happy. “Wanna take a little break?” You pointed at the empty park with swings and Jongho led you inside, the two of you settling on the swings.

“How are your parents?” You asked Jongho. “Are they still confused about your disappearance?”

“They are, I mean… I told them I went to find you but you’re not back home yet. They wonder why sometimes.”

“When did you guys move?” You asked. “It’s a shame that we won’t be neighbours anymore.”

“I know,” Jongho sighed. “My grandmother was sick two years ago- they wanted to move closer so they could take better care of her. We still own that house so we haven’t ‘fully’ moved away’.”

“Oh, does that mean you can come by sometimes?” You asked but then you remembered. “You have college, though.”

“I could come stay there on the weekends if that means we can spend some time together,” he shrugged and you poked his thigh.

“Just like when your parents went on a trip and I would sneak out in the middle of the night so we could have sleepovers?”

“Good old times,” Jongho laughed. Now that you were getting a good look at him, you noticed how much he had changed in the years you had been gone. He was much broader now, the muscles peeking through his half-sleeve shirt more defined, and-

“You’re staring.”

“You got a haircut,” you said. “I like your hair a bit longer, I think.”

“I’m going to shave my head,” Jongho declared and you laughed loudly. Just like the old times. “This reminds me of the last time we were at a park. On the swings, just like this.”

While you had thanked Jongho for a lot of things ever since you came back- for taking care of Cookie while you were gone, for believing in you and not going out and beyond trying to find you, for making sure your parents knew you were safe wherever you were and this was something you needed to do, for not giving up when he got taken and turned into a droid, and for keeping you safe there… you were still struggling with words needed for an apology. Jongho told you time and time again that he didn’t need your apology, but that didn’t mean you felt less sorry.

“Do you consider it a bad memory?” You asked and Jongho shook his head.

“Never. I was a bit out of it when I learned that you were gone, but one night I came back to the park and recalled our conversation. I told you that you could trust me and you told me that you did. You assured me that you loved me and you knew that you weren’t alone-”

“Jongho-”

“Let me finish,” he smiled gently at you. “If you hadn’t told me all of that… I don’t know what I would have done. I was grateful that you had told me that. It meant that whatever you did was necessary.”

“God, how did I get so lucky?” You looked up at the sky, laughing to keep the sting in your eyes from getting worse. “I think I’ve used maximum luck. It can’t get any better than this.”

“Please,” Jongho smacked your arm, his ears going red and you giggled. Even after all these years, simple confessions like these made him fluster and it was the cutest thing. “I’m just telling you this so you can stop looking at me like you owe me a big fat apology. Not a good look at you, y/n. I like it better when you act like you’re the boss and can do whatever you want.”

“But I am sorry,” you told him and he looked pointedly at you but decided to accept it. Perhaps that would take the weight off your shoulders. “I should have told you more. That’s the only regret I had.”

“Oh, we’re fine anyway, aren’t we?” Jongho said. “We’re all back. Our gang has grown, Cookie is finally sharing drinks with you, we got a new friend-”

“Choi San,” you muttered. “I don’t know how you two get along so well. How all of you do. I think we’re still moments away from going full warrior-mode droid on each other.”

“Oh, that’s because you don’t like how chummy he and Cookie are,” Jongho laughed heartily. “Don’t let her find out. She’s gonna start rebelling.”

“Like, I know they can do whatever they want, I’m not against it at all. I’m probably wary because, well, I’m her sister. Of course I’m going to be. It’s just that… he looks at her the way you look at me. It’s unsettling.”

Jongho raised a brow. “Oh? And how do I look at you?”

“With those big eyes,” you grinned, and when his gaze got softer, you smacked his arm. “Stop!”

“Why?” Jongho pulled you closer, making you rock dangerously on the swing but he was quick to cage your legs between his so you wouldn’t fall over. “How do I look at you? Like I’m in love? Like you’re my everything?”

“You need a drink,” you told him, about to bend to pull one out of the grocery bag but Jongho grabbed your arm instead, making you look at him. “Stop, you’re making me shy!”

Jongho must have been in a dire need of drink because he wasn’t all for such romantic moments- but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic. When he was in the mood, you often found it overwhelming simply because you couldn’t believe he could love you so much. He intertwined his hands with yours, caressing the scar on your wrist below which the chip was embedded. When he looked at you, your gaze was already stuck on his parted lips and he didn’t waste time drawing you in and meeting your lips in a heartfelt kiss. You let your arms travel around his neck mostly for support because you were still worried you would fall off the swing but Jongho had you secure, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck as he deepened the kiss.

It was perfect. It was quiet with only the sound of cicadas carried by the cool breeze, the faint sound of traffic almost dismissable. It was nostalgic and contained longing from all the time you spent apart, the time you lost and wished you could get back. But what made your heart content was that it was still the same. He was still the same, just like you had left him. He still kissed you like he couldn’t have been elsewhere. He still held you like he did the first time- with caution and care, making sure you felt safe. As you continued to kiss, he let go of that caution and let himself get comfortable too, the kiss turning passionate. It was only when you heard the sound of passersby- children- that you broke apart with a little laugh.

“Can we ditch going back to give them the drinks and continue?” You asked and Jongho laughed, kissing you for a few moments more before he let go with a sigh.

“You owe me two years worth of kisses,” Jongho said, getting up and helping you get up next. “You better make up for it.”

“Really?” You took him by surprise as you pulled him for another short kiss. “That’s one less for you now.”

“I’ll take another then,” Jongho kissed you back and when he drew apart, you two burst into a fit of giggles. “Let’s go back.”

The short walk back to the headquarters cut a few more kisses from what you owed him and when you set the drinks on the table, you found everyone looking pointedly at the two of you. “What?”

“What took you so long?” Yunho shook his head, opening the drinks and then pausing mid-air. “Actually… don’t answer that.”

“Oh?” San unintentionally quipped in, looking confused for a moment before he looked around and connected the dots. “Oh.”

“Ew,” Cookie said and everyone burst into laughter, making Jongho hide his face in a corner and you threw a packet of chips at Wooyoung who was laughing the loudest, who proved you wrong instantly by laughing even louder. You couldn’t help but join despite everyone ganging up to tease the two of you. You subconsciously touched your wrist, remembering that you were part droid right now but San caught that, sharing the sentiment-

That even though you were part droid, you had never felt more human. You had never felt more emotional, and perhaps, these moments that became a part of your subconscious had ultimately saved all of you. You made a silent prayer wishing everyone’s subconscious would be filled with such wholesome and happy moments. As long as you had this, you would be okay.

Elsewhere, at the outskirts of Strictland, a man dressed in all-black with a cap was standing anxiously waiting for someone. As soon as he saw a car approach, he clutched his briefcase tighter, worried his attempt at a negotiation would go wrong. The car halted a few feet away and a man in a suit accompanied by another of a much bigger stature drew closer.

“What have you got?”

“A few documents and one chip that I managed to hide before they found me,” the man adjusted his cap. “I have a trial scheduled this week so I thought I’d get this done.”

“And everything is here, in this briefcase?” the man in the suit asked and got a nod. He signalled . “Thank you. Your job here is done.”

Before the man could ask what was next, the one standing in the shadows pulled out a gun and shot that man in the forehead before he could blink. The man in the suit wiped his suit mockingly.

“You will die, nymph, if I pressed even a fraction more.”

Your hold trembles, “I have told you all already that I'm not strong compared to faeries–”

He pulls it from your hands entirely, throwing it to the side. It splinters against the stone wall, you turning your gaze away from smaller pieces flying over. He does not flinch at all, reaching down to grab another pole. This one is more flimsy, plastic as he coats it with powder. You slowly lean forward, desperate to catch your breath. Body aching, you rise to reach for the small bottle of water you brought with you. He looks at you.

“Another.”

You pause in the middle of gulping. “We barely had a break.”

“I never told you that we were pausing. This is not for your comfort. This is to test your limits, to see you turn into a kumiho. To help you defend yourself until you're able to control your own strength at will. Your exhaustion now is mental, nothing more.”

You look down at yourself, body coated in sweat. “Doesn’t look mental to me.”

Mingi merely sighs. “Again, nymph.”

“What happens when I figure out how to control my other self, or whatever you want to call it?”

“We use it to our advantage. We defend against the Seelie, against any who may attempt to dethrone us.”

“And if I don't want that?”

He glances at you, amused. There is no answer to your question but it is an easy guess. They will end your life. Without as much as a second thought.

Not much time has passed since Seonghwa told you what he believed you were. You still vehemently disagree with his assumption, but the others don't. From his guess led you to rarely being left alone with one of them now, except for Mingi, oddly - though you do not doubt one of the others is somewhere around, peeking through a window or hiding in the thickened forest.

Mingi lifts his hand, words mumbled beneath his breath as he stares at the broken stick. It mends itself slowly, morphing into smaller, perfect chips of wood. He flicks his hand, tossing it into the grass. He voted for you to die. Neither of you have brought it up since your life was spared, but you cannot help but wonder. Why did he want you to die? Is it because of Seonghwa, whatever he may have said to him? Did he see your presence as so much of a threat he needed you gone? His personality hasn't changed at all – indifferent, slips of his true personality shown whenever he let his mask fall. From what you can gather from those moments and how he speaks when he doesn't see you around, he's kind. Funny, a bit loud. Endlessly teased by the others. Blunt and honest. A bit more closed off than what you’ve seen before, but it would make sense since he did say he wanted you dead.

You believe you two would be great friends if it weren't for the circumstances surrounding your stay here.

“We leave tonight,” he tosses you the metal stick, and you barely catch it, balancing it between two fingers. “Seonghwa and Jongho will be around. Yeosang and San are hunting but will be back soon, just before we leave. Our house is secure, but it will be more vulnerable while we aren't here. You won't become an expert in Seelie weaknesses in an hour, but this next brief lesson will be enough for you to survive for a few minutes, at least. Until one of us comes to help.”

“How reassuring,” you mumble.

A small smile peeks out. “A brief refresher might be needed. Seelie and Unseelie are similar in many ways, and different in so much more. To put it simply – they thrive on light, on goodness, luck, wealth, care, etcetera. We feed on terror, fear, life, chaos. We may seem evil, of which we are to a certain extent, but our kind are both faeries. Our weaknesses are similar. Seelie in particular, though, has a greater one. How joyous we as Unseelie are when we find someone in despair is quite comparable to how aroused they are when they see pure happiness. It is their greatest weakness.”

“Hate to break it to you Mingi, but there’s little for me to be happy about right now.”

He snorts, the smile breaking out into a wider grin. “That I know. This is just for information purposes. They can tell it is fake just as we can tell when you are truly afraid. It is part of our nature,” he points to your palms. “The metal that you hold in your hands now is blessed by gnomes. It holds in the wielder’s emotions, whether it be negative or positive, and exemplifies it. Right now from where I stand, I can feel the anxious energy emitting from you. With that in your hand, I can feel it tenfold.”

“And this could help…?” Your doubt is evident in the dragging of your words, peering at Mingi. He nods simply.

“When you are happy, hold that. Magic casted on it helps store it inside. It will lure Seelie to you.”

“And I would want that for?”

He takes it from you, pointing it farther away from the two of you. A spark lights, flying through the air. The crack of the tree crumbling beneath the impact echoes around the night, your own eyes widening at the sight. What once was a lively tree is now a crumbled mess of wood and sticks, flames flickering in the night. He whispers against his hair and blows, the fire dissipating.

“For that.” His eyebrow lifts, passing it back to you. “Use it wisely.”

–

“Yeosang can listen to it. Her thoughts, that is.”

“A bit peculiar,” Seonghwa mumbles, flipping through his book. “Perhaps it is because his gifts have always leaned towards it. He was the first of us to excel at tormenting human minds, it makes sense that he is the only one who can somewhat hear what she thinks.”

“But she is neither a human nor a faerie. It makes less sense that he can do it at all.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“That you will figure out why, at least.”

“There is no reason to anymore.”

Jongho observes him silently, his own thoughts scattered. “You were interested in here before – what changed?”

“Her being a threat to us changed, Jongho. Why would I want to dig deeper into it when I have already told you all that it wasn't a good idea to have her around? One day it will happen. One day she will hurt one of us. Or cause one of us to be hurt. There will be no room for me to say I told you so because we’d be long past that.”

“Then it should be imperative that we start digging deeper into what she can and cannot do.”

Seonghwa turns over his book and flattens it against the wooden desk, peering over his glasses. “And then what? She is already resistant to many of our strengths aside from physical. If I tested her further, it's possible that I may awaken something that's been long buried. I do believe that she doesn't believe she's a kumiho. It's best for us to not trigger her true nature at all. Kumihos are legends – having one rise on Earth now can lead to its destruction.”

“Is it such a good idea to ignore it, though? We would need to know eventually. It’s better for it to happen now rather than later.”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes as he stares at his mate. “Has Mingi started his training again? Why that tree is destroyed in the front yard? Is this why we're having this conversation so I won't be furious once I find out?”

Jongho’s lips remain shut, quickly getting to his feet when Seonghwa stands. “Wait, you have to understand why we're doing it. It is to protect us from Seelie, from other faeries. Having someone like her on our side will be an advantage.”

“Then so be it. Do what you'd like. Don't expect me to endorse it, because I won't,” he avoids Jongho’s touch, shaking his head slightly. “I care for you all dearly, and I would listen to any of your opinions on something this serious without as much as a blink. This situation, this woman, how most of you have thrown my words to the side–” He takes a breath. “There's no use in dwelling on it further. Tell Mingi to meet them at the edge of the Rowan trees. They will be waiting.”

Seonghwa walks to his coat rack, raising his finger slightly to slide the clothing over his body. He does not bother looking back at Jongho, knowing well what expression he'd be showing him now. In a different situation, Seonghwa would follow their words, their instincts. Even if he were wrong, completely, having his words disregarded because of lust –

He cannot fathom how he will continue going on like this.

–

Mingi lifts the hood over his head, face disappearing beneath the shadow it forms. Yunho, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung wait at the edge of the trees, as Jongho said. Yunho places a hand on Mingi’s shoulder as he moves just behind Hongjoong. None say a word. Their leader closes his eyes, dead leaves trembling beneath their feet. Though there are no markings, they stand in an old cemetery, long decayed bodies dust beneath the ground in wooden caskets. They watch as the forest speaks to them, warm air gusting, pulling the hoodie off of Mingi’s head. Hongjoong’s reaches back, Wooyoung taking his hand, Yunho taking his, and Mingi taking Yunho’s last. Within a blink they’re gone from the rowan trees. Mingi stumbles slightly as his feet land on unholy soil, Wooyoung whistling as he pulls his own hood off his hair.

“Hells, I’d never get used to that,” he grins. “Is everyone here yet?”

“A few more stragglers, then we’d be able to speak to everyone,” Hongjoong says, their steps identical as they follow him up the stone path. It is silly to consider the building in front of them Unseelie headquarters, but it is where the leaders meet for pertinent discussions. Rarely do any of them ever enter the palace, its essence being cared for by chaos itself. The hall remains empty as Hongjoong swings open the door with a nudge.

“Bothersome, the blood still seeps into the carpet from years ago,” Yunho murmurs, glancing down at the stains. It looks fresh, as if they’ve just slain a creature moments ago. This is what they consider the in-between - this place never really changes. That blood could be from someone who hasn’t existed in this realm for over a hundred years ago and it’d still be fresh. Time does not truly exist where they are, though it passes in the realms beyond.

Mingi barely gives it a glance himself, tucking himself further into the cloak he wears. Wooyoung jumps up slightly, wrapping his arm around the taller Unseelie.

“You’re the one that did it Mingi, no need to feel ashamed!” He touches his back, rubbing it lightly. “Remember how you struck down those Seelie? We haven’t even seen those wings in so long.”

Mingi's back aches, the ribbing of his wings straining against his sealed skin. He hasn't let them breathe for months. They yearn to escape his body, to lift in flight. But for some reason unknown to himself, he cannot, no matter how hard he tries.

“Enough, Wooyoung. We have things to do,” Yunho pulls him away from Mingi. Though neither meet each other’s eyes, Yunho can see how Mingi’s tense body relaxes just a bit, the two Unseelie disappearing down the hall. Leaving Hongjoong and Mingi alone.

The last time this happened was just before Hongjoong asked him to turn into your human partner to break things off permanently with you. His body aches at the thought of molding himself into something else again. But he would do it if Hongjoong asked. Without thinking twice about it.

“They will look to us for answers, Mingi,” Hongjoong says, walking slowly as he follows. “Most would want to start a war.”

“Would you allow it?”

Hongjoong thinks for a moment, “No. Not yet. What you’re doing with the girl, training her. It is smart. It may caution her to pause if she turns on us in the future. Perhaps even our livers will remain intact.” Hongjoong pats his stomach, a dry laugh escaping his lips. “At least for the moment anyway.”

“Is this the path we are going to take? Allowing her to continue training, keeping an eye until the very last moment?”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Do you have anything else to suggest? It was not unanimous, but we voted on keeping her around and alive. At least for now. It’s better to strengthen rather than not. Having a Seelie take her away while we’re in the middle of bonding with her would be unfortunate. But that is not all you’re asking, right?”

Mingi cannot come up with another response, mouth opening and closing. Hongjoong stops walking, turning on his heel to look at Mingi. "It is unbecoming of you to hide your own feelings, Mingi. We all witnessed how your body tormented itself when you turned into her dead partner. It rejected it so violently, because you desire her yourself."

Mingi's frown deepens. "Don't start with this."

"You like her Mingi. I never thought I'd see the day." The teasing look spreads across his face, smirk deep enough to show the small curvature of his dimples just above his lips. Mingi tries to ignore the look as much as he can, but Hongjoong only sits in anticipated silence. Very likely waiting for the words of confirmation.

"Why does it matter if that were true?"

Though it is not a certain confirmation, it is enough for Hongjoong. He hums, "We make our decisions as a spark, Mingi. I won't leave any of you behind as I observe this y/n. I want to know how each of you feel before I offer a choice to all of you."

“We said she will stay alive.”

“Momentarily, yes. But that’s not the choice I was speaking to.”

"Then what choice will that be?"

Hongjoong’s canine peeks out, sinking into his bottom lip. "What would be the fun in telling you that?"

  –

Jongho bends the spine in half, wincing slightly as he hears the book’s glue crack. San would be furious seeing him treating the book this way, but alas, he could care so very little. Most of the editions he has on his shelves are what San has gifted him, likely due to how Jongho treated the writing. Books are meant to be read though, he would hate to see unworn copies lining the shelves. His ear twitches, the familiar steps of yours passing his room and down to your own. He never had his door closed until you arrived, many of his spark popping in every now and again to say their greetings. Frankly, he would have kept it open even with your presence if it weren’t for the look Seonghwa threw at him when you first arrived. Now, only the main areas are left open, doors to each of their chambers closed. He knows why Seonghwa worries, why he listens to every conversation someone has with you, why he has carved spells everywhere in the home. The reasoning does not go past him; he is keeping a close-eye on you in the event that you snap. Wooyoung is the only one that has removed the spell on his room though, after his … well, his late night caress with you.

“Your mind always wonders with those tales,” San enters his room, shutting the door behind him. “Mindless enough that you didn’t pay mind to my knockings.”

“I thought you were out hunting with Yeosang?”

“It was brief, there were Seelies hanging around,” San sighs, throwing himself into Jongho’s bed. He glances over, a frown slowly forming. “Yeosang thought it best that we only bring in one miserable human rather than two. So whoever is in dire need of feeding, it’s in the basement. I placed a spell on it to subdue its hysterics temporarily.”

“Basement…” Jongho’s nose wrinkles. “Why do we hide it? She knows we kill humans. In fact, she should encourage it since she is a kumiho.”

“A reformed kumiho, from what we understand. No longer feeding on the livers of men, unfortunately. He thought it best we keep it away so she doesn’t stumble across it.”

“What about you?” Jongho asks softly. His frown slips away as he takes in those three words. “What will you feed on?”

“What I have already done so far, it is enough for now.” “San, that Seelie you ran into while in town with her, he was right. Pushing away your true nature will only make it harder for you to control yourself. You should take his – Hongjoong’s – words into consideration.”

“I am not leaving this spark. I chose this, I chose all of you. Hongjoong knows that, Yeonjun knows that. You know that.” His words carry a sense of finality, leaning up. “I've fought for this, for us to be together as we are now. I gave up everything. And I’ve said that it isn’t up for discussion. I will not leave unless you all kick me out. Is that what you want, for me to be removed?”

Jongho closes his book, “That is not at all what I’m saying, San.”

“For a spark of Unseelie, all of you worry too much about things that do not affect you.” San ignores the look Jongho gives him, waving him off. “I know, no need to give me a talk about how much you all care. I’ve heard it dozens of times.”

“And it seems like it hasn’t sunk in yet despite that.”

“Jongho please,” San closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I love you all, more than you could ever believe. I will protect you with my life if need be. This is a choice that I have made. I will not leave in the face of distant peril. I will not leave because I haven’t grown accustomed to feeding like you. I am here. I’d rather not discuss this again, at least with you. You know where I stand, no?” Jongho’s hand reaches for San’s, and he takes it promptly, lifting it to press his lips on the back. “Promise that you will not discuss this with me again.”

Jongho looks at him, the darkened skin beneath his lids, the redness of his eyes. His inner struggle has not gone unnoticed by any of them - most worried for his well-being. Going against your own nature, it is almost impossible to do. He is only concerned that it may go too far before any of them can help.

“I cannot promise that, you know that,” Jongho says softly. “It may need to be dealt with in the near future.”

“Then promise to not bring it up unless absolutely needed.”

“I promise.”

He leans forward, lips moving from his hand and brushing lightly against Jongho’s lips before moving away. “Alright.”

—

Jongho can see a bit of the appeal of you. Your otherworldly form, though hidden, could be one reason. But despite that, he can see why Wooyoung so desperately needs your presence. It almost makes sense as to why they all somehow enjoyed you around, even if it were a miniscule amount. That is what kumihos do. It worried them all after it was revealed. Most needed firm assurance from Seonghwa that you aren’t far gone enough for them to worry. Despite how much Seonghwa wanted to hide it, he agreed. At least, for now.

Jongho sits on the single sofa chair, eyes flicking over to you.

Your body is mostly covered with the blanket that rests on the couch, a small book beneath the coloring one that you have. It hasn’t been touched since they’ve come here - none desired to rest in the main living space. After you’ve settled yourself in the room, the space has transformed entirely. Spellbooks thrown on the table in the middle, several potions lining the walls, baskets of supplies scattered about. Oftentimes they all spent their free time in the area, chatting about unimportant things even while you weren’t around. It feels more lived in the more he looks at it. He wonders if the rest noticed the change as well.

“You guys love to stare,” you note. He looks at your face, your gaze amused as your eyes flick back down to the page, marker shading the characters. The blanket is wrapped around your head, face barely peeking from the shade it brings. “Is that what you do to lure people to their demise? Watch them until they notice?”

“Most are too occupied with other matters to pay concern to how we hunt.”

“Hmm.” You continue. “Are you on duty now to watch me, then? Seonghwa put you up to this?”

His nose wrinkles. “He hasn’t told me to do anything.”

“That you’re sure of? Because this is the first time I’ve been alone in a room aside from my own, and you haven’t said anything except to stare.”

“I am just curious about you.”

You raise a brow, gliding your marker across the pages. “I’m an open book. You can ask.”

You’ve spent time with each other, small chats turning into a friendship, even if it’s only the beginning of one. He hasn’t pried into your personal life, only commenting on surface level things that wouldn’t get you agitated. Asking what he is curious about may sway what you two have built. It makes him nervous, which is humorous in itself.

“Is it wrong to say that I expected you to turn into a kumiho and run once Seonghwa told us?”

You snicker softly, closing your marker and grabbing another. “It’s not wrong to say, but it’s a little funny. I don’t believe in myself being this nine-tailed fox you talk about. It would be cool if I were, though. I’d feel less defenseless.”

He nods slowly, “You still don’t believe Seonghwa?”

“How could I? His little speech was based on theories, and everytime I try to talk to him about it he leaves the room. I get not wanting to be around me but it’s a bit much, don’t you think? I did one thing that happened months ago and nothing has happened since. He didn’t even take into account the first time I was almost killed by a Seelie in the bookstore. Nothing happened then.”

Ah, he himself forgot about that. “That is what you believe? That you’re not a kumiho?”

You nod, holding a marker between your lips as you dig for another. “I do.”

“Then so do I,” he agrees simply.

“You do?”

“I do.”

“Even if everyone else doesn’t?”

“Since when did our thoughts have to align? I am my own being, y/n, even if you don’t think it true. So if you believe that you’re fully human, then I believe it as well. It shouldn’t be a hard concept to comprehend.”

You pause. None of them so easily believed anything you’ve said to them, even Wooyoung. You can’t quite decipher what Jongho’s end-goal would be - defying everyone else’s beliefs would only cause him trouble in the end. This would hurt him, listening to your words. Why?

You look back down at your coloring sheet. It’s a simple hobby - you rarely indulge due to your busy life. Now that all you do is wake and train then sleep, it fills in the hours of nothing. What you stare down at now, the deepened orange of a sunset, the wide stretched m birds along the horizon. It used to help distract you, calm yourself. But all you can feel now is fear. Endless fear of what is to come.

“I’m a slightly wrinkled book, but you can ask me anything you’d like.”

You let your feelings subside briefly, eyes flicking up to him. “Everytime I ask Wooyoung about other types of fae he doesn’t even let me ask.”

Jongho laughs, “Because he’s stubborn. But I wouldn’t mind. What do you want to know?”

“Which ones are real.”

“Alright.”

Still suspicious, you continue. “Gnomes.”

“Real.”

“Elves.”

“Real.”

“Selkie?”

“Not the term we use, but yes. Real.”

“Sirens.”

“Real.”

Your eyes widened, “So pirates were telling the truth?”

He nods simply, “Yes. But they’re numbers have dwindled. There is likely less than fifty left in this world.”

“If Sirens are real, then-”

“Mermaids are real too, yes,” A cheeky grin crosses his lips as you stare at him in shock. “A small colony is not too far away from us. I can bring you one day if you’d like.”

“This is where you two have gone,” San enters the room, lip twitching into a frown slightly as he observes you. You stop coloring, sliding the markers back into the small box and standing. “Wait, no need to leave because I’ve entered-”

“Not leaving because of you,” the lie falls from your lips. “Leaving because I have to practice with the majik pole Mingi gave me.”

“Majik… pole…?” He watches as you leave the room, eyes meeting Jongho’s. “Is this a human word that I don’t know? I should know, I watch plenty of their cinema.”

Jongho merely snorts, shaking his head.

–

It is not often they attend these meetings. It is usually done with all eight of them in attendance - showing power in numbers is what temperaments Unseelie. Sparks vary in size but rarely do they contain over five Unseelie. Hongjoong’s spark, consisting of eight, is a large factor in his position rarely being threatened. His existence as their leader has not shifted in hundreds of years due to it. So standing now, with only three Unseelie behind him, well, it is not ideal. Mingi can see it well - how they look upon them, the sneers that are hidden usually, displayed on their faces. Sparks of two to five stand beneath them, thoughts elsewhere as Hongjoong speaks. Mingi’s gaze shifts to one group in particular. Decades prior their leader attempted a coup, one that ended in her death. None have been tried since, but it has been long. Soon, the Unseelie will grow tired of Hongjoong’s rule. Soon, their rule may end.

“Seelie have always stuck themselves in places they didn’t belong,” One retorts in the crowd. “It was deserved for some to die. But they have killed several of us, while we have done barely half of ten. We should strike instead of hesitating, it makes us look weak.”

Hongjoong laughs at the suggestion, “Then you venture forth yourself, Hanbin. Tell me how it works out.”

“Are you joking with me?”

“How could I not? Their numbers surpass ours by almost double, they can function at night and during the day. We ourselves cannot use majik as well in the daylight. We are at a disadvantage and have always been. It would be nonsensical to venture down the path of death. But if you'd like to, I won't stop you. Your death will be in your own hands.”

It is a jab, even if it is small. Hanbin’s lips pursed, gaze flicking away. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho do not offer any additional points, knowing only to speak when spoken to. Especially at events like these.

“What do we do then?” Another asks from the crowd.

“We wait.”

“For how long?”

Hongjoong's gaze moves to the one who questioned him, eyes narrowing. “Until it is time.”

–

“They are growing uneasy,” Yunho notes, head covering slipping from his hair. He rests in the chair adjacent to Hongjoong’s rubbing his temple. “Your words will only satiate them momentarily. They will need to know further explanation before trusting in you.”

“They’ve trusted in me for hundreds of years, doubting me now will only bring their peril.”

“We haven’t interacted with the Seelie in hundreds of years too, so there was no need for an uprising. Now that we’re moving closer to a war, it would make sense that they become wary,” Yunho notes, gesturing for Mingi to sit near him. “And we do not have many faerie allies. It makes sense that they worry.”

Mingi ignores the movement, eyes glued to Hongjoong’s. “We should have killed her or given her up to Seelie.”

Hongjoong’s laugh is boisterous, “Give her up? She is a weapon, Mingi. It would be foolish to pass her over. A rare commodity like her cannot just be given away at the inkling of possible chaos. Is that not what we live for?” He moves closer to him, reaching up to pull a loose strand away from his cheek. “Have you grown bored at your old age?”

Mingi steps away slightly, in tune to how Hongjoong’s smile slips. There has been a barrier between them since his last stint, his recovery from the transformation rough. The air thickens a bit in the brief period of silence, Mingi’s eyes anywhere but where he stands.

“I don’t agree with you wanting her dead, but if she is truly what she says she is, would she eventually grow to hate us? It is in her innately,” Wooyoung murmurs, fingers twisting a loose string between them. “She just began to care for me.”

“It’s not impossible, but I’ll try my best not to let it happen,” Hongjoong grabs his overcoat, head flicking to the door. He does not acknowledge the lull in conversation, and neither does Mingi, shifting closer to Yunho. “I have another meeting to attend, but you all can head back. It’s best not to keep our land in such low numbers for so long.”

“I will go with you,” Yunho says, fingertips light against Mingi’s arm as he stands. The touch is brief, Mingi’s breath hitching. “Mingi and Wooyoung can go back.”

“Yun…” Wooyoung whines, stopping once he sees how unsettled Mingi looks. He stands, arm wrapping around his center. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

–

You can barely catch your breath, almost dry heaving into the dirt beneath you. Getting away from them to train yourself as hard as you have wasn’t the greatest idea. But you could hardly stand being in a room with more than one of them right now. You wish you could be back in your apartment, or maybe in your bookstore. The smell of old books was much more comforting than being here. Agreeing to staying was not an easy choice to make.

You just didn’t want to die.

You slowly stand, wiping away the small pebbles that indent your knees and palms, flicking them back to the ground. The evening sun burns on your back as you grip the water bottle.

“Fuck this place,” you murmur to yourself. You lean to grab your bag, stopping in place. Not too far off, deep within the darkened forest, something stands there. It does not say a word, but you can see how the silhouette is hidden behind the thick trunks. It does not move. You can feel your heartbeat pick up its pace, your fingers wrapping around your bag tightly as you stare at it. Something tells you not to turn around, not to give it your back.

“y/n?”

Jongho moves into your line of sight. Your gaze flicks over to him only for a second, but when you look back, the figure is gone. His brows furrow at your cold expression, following your gaze. “What’s going on?”

“There was someone there watching me, Jongho,” you move closer to him, fear riddling your body. “I swear there was.”

He nods slowly, recognition crossing his features. “No need to worry, just pixies.”

“Pixies?” Your voice is incredulous, glancing back at the spot. “I thought no one else could enter this land?”

“Pixies aren’t allowed to enter our territory, yes. But they live in the rowan trees. That lining that you see around us, it’s the barrier between us and them. They haven’t been really active when you’re around, so I’m a bit shocked that they showed themselves to you anyway,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Seonghwa isn’t going to be happy they're still hanging around.”

“Are they…?”

“Will they hurt you?” Jongho asks, and you nod. “No. They’re curious faeries, a bit mischievous, but they only care for the trees. Maybe they will make you trip over a branch or fall into a fit of laughter, but that’s all. They’re just curious about you - not many see kumihos in person.”

“How do they know about that?”

“They listen to the trees speak, y/n. For us, our home is a giant one.” He winces at something you cannot hear, turning toward the house. Though your senses aren’t as heightened as Jongho’s, you can hear doors opening and shutting loudly, a familiar voice erupting throughout. “An Unseelie is running through the halls to look for you. You should go and meet up with him, less of a chance he’d break something.”

“Maybe later,” you say. Jongho looks a bit surprised, brow raised. “Believe it or not, sometimes I do want to spend time with people other than him.”

“Me?” His cheek lifts, eyes flicking between yours. “Wooyoung has monopolized you. I just thought you enjoyed it.”

“I do enjoy him, but I also enjoy hanging out with you.”

Jongho does not respond. His cheeks lift at your words, glancing at the house before resting on you. Though no words are exchanged, he turns and walks toward the woods, your steps following him close. There is little hesitation as he holds out his hand, your fingers easily sliding into his palm. Just as you hear the backdoor of the house creak, Jongho and you disappear into the brush.

–

“Has she not had enough of him?” His voice is sour, disgruntled brows seemingly permanently furrowed. Seonghwa merely rolls his eyes, shifting another box into the corner with the flick of a finger. It has barely been an hour since you left with Jongho, and Wooyoung has decidedly glued himself to Seonghwa’s quarters. He’s not as used to Wooyoung seeking his advice, the Unseelie often only letting Hongjoong’s whisper sweet words to him. More recently, though, despite his stance on your presence in their home, Wooyoung lets himself into his personal areas more often than not, pestering him about you. “She’s spent most of her time with him idly by, she should miss me more.”

“Overcrowding her isn’t going to help her seek you, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa mumbles, glancing over his work. “Has Hongjoong arrived yet?”

“But she likes me more,” he insists, glaring at his mate.

“Stop acting like an unruly pixie and give her space. Where is Hongjoong?”

“It isn’t fair, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Wooyoung, I’ve asked the question twice already.”

Wooyoung sighs, rubbing his head. “He stayed behind a while longer. Yunho stayed with him just in case.”

“And Mingi?”

“He came back with me then left, saying something about seeking refuge outside this home. You know how he is, with his pretty words.”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes, thinking. “Did any of them say when they’ll be coming back?”

“Likely not until tomorrow. But for Mingi, who knows. Maybe Yunho or San can find him meandering the unholy lands.”

That is the one he is worried for. Seonghwa steps to a window, gaze resting upon the thickened forest. Jongho knows better than to keep you in the rowan trees after dark, so Seonghwa isn’t too worried. Nothing is out there now that could stir something within you. Wooyoung steps near him, hand wrapping around his limp fingers. He squeezes it once, lips pressing against his jaw before stepping away and out.

Seonghwa rubs his temple. Whatever Hongjoong may or may not be up to, he knows well enough that it’s not good. He hates the unnecessarily lavish mansion, and hates appeasing Unseelie to stop a revolt. Politics is something none of them enjoy. So his stay after everything has been settled is just odd in itself.

He does not like this feeling.

Not at all.

–

Jongho holds a finger to his lips, looking back at you. You nod, shifting closer to his body as you look ahead. The lake is vast. These woods surprise you with the amount of differentiation of ecosystems hidden. Likely due to it being filled with faeries and other magic. You do recall the townsfolk speaking of avoiding venturing deeper into the forest. The festival that you attended months ago was another way of preventing anything nefarious from sneaking out from the leaves. You didn’t believe it at the time, but now it makes sense. Though it did not stop Seonghwa from seeking you out.

Jongho lightly touches your shoulder, guiding you to sink further behind the large bush. You do not see it at first.

The water shimmers, current swirling. The lake seems to bubble, large fins rising from its depths. You hold a hand over your mouth as you gaze ahead, heads appearing one by one. They’re too far for you to see clearly, but Jongho warned you that this was a safe enough distance. He could protect you if it ever came to it, but he preferred to not start another quarrel that wasn’t needed.

The mermaids aren’t what you imagined. Heads covered in scales, luminescent. Their laughter flows through the air and into your ears. Like bells chiming as wind flows through them. They’re alluring - beauty behind what your mind could conjure up by itself. Jongho’s hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining. His whisper is barely heard, but you can see the water moving. The mermaids turn to where Jongho and you are, but they do not move. The current grows wild, thrashing against the shoreline. He pulls you away from it all, your head turning back for a last glance.

Though they’re too far away for you to see details of their faces, their stare unsettles you.

As if they are warning you.

–

“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you closer,” Jongho explains, sending you a small smile. “Seonghwa would kill me if I let something happen. We already have enough happening to last a lifetime.”

“I’m thankful you brought me here, anyway,” you say, letting his hold help you over a deep hole. “What spell did you cast, just before we left?”

“High tides,” he grins. “They began sensing someone was watching. Unlike the mermaids from the tales, they can breathe on land. But they much prefer the coolness of water. I stopped them from getting closer to us as we left,” he glances up at the sky. “It’s getting late.”

“Is San going to yell at us?” you joke, and he laughs lightly.

"Believe it or not, he’s quite adventurous in comparison to Seonghwa. He loves so tenderly, there has never been one kinder," Jongho says softly. "He praises me like I'm the most, but we all know it is him. Not one of us matches his devotion."

You’re not too sure how to respond to that, San’s resolute anger at your presence only waning slightly. You’re sure he’d prefer if you weren’t here at all, even though he voted to save your life. But Jongho believes you when you say you’re not a kumiho, so you’ll believe him when he speaks of San.

"You're my favorite human friend," Jongho whispers, gazing at the branches that hang over you. "I'm sorry that I want you to be more than that."

Now this is surprising. You stop walking, hand leaving him. He looks at you, cheeks flushed. “Ah, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

"More?" Is all you can muster to say.

His soft gaze resting on yours. It's hard to keep your eyes steady on his, the feeling leaking from the heavy look more than what you've ever experienced before. With Wooyoung, with Soobin. They looked at you lovingly, sure, but Jongho? Your stomach twists the more you hold his gaze.

"I'm sorry that I am so desperate to be your lover."

The breeze whispers through the leaves, hairs resting on his forehead lifting back from his skin. A scar from the banquet hall fight months prior shines at you. A reminder of what he's done, what he did, and what he will continue to do, as long as the others agree to it. It's overwhelming, these strange feelings appearing with them all. All unique and different, but still quite new.

"Why are you trying to go where I can't follow,?" He asks softly after the brief quiet.

"I'm right here."

His lips curl into a soft smile, "You were in that mind of yours. I can't go there."

You swallow. "I'm scared, Jongho."

"I know," his eyes soften, lids heavier. "It's a lot to say when we haven't known each other for that long. And it frightens me even more that I feel this way. You don’t need to do anything about my feelings. I’ll be fine as I am now."

His eyes flick to the sky, “But we should probably head back. Seonghwa must be furious.” He holds out his hand, and you take it, letting him pull you forward through the path you took.

–

Furious is an understatement.

Seonghwa paces back and forth on the edge of the woods, hands crossed against his chest, angered eyes unmoving as you two enter the clearing. Jongho lets go of your hand, opening his mouth to speak. Seonghwa does not allow it though - frown deepening as he waits for you two to come closer.

“I lost track of time.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. You expect seething words from Seonghwa, but he only sighs, waving him off.

“Go inside. I need to speak with her by myself.”

Jongho gives you a pitiful look before disappearing from sight, leaving the two of you alone. As alone as you can be, with the watching eyes of everyone in the home behind you. He rubs his forehead, long, exasperated breaths continuing to leave his lips. His expression is pained as he meets your eyes, lips downturned.

“You continue to cause more trouble than you are worth.”

“What a nice thing to say,” your tone drips with sarcasm, crossed arms resting against your chest. His gaze roams over you. It is nothing sensual, mute annoyance at best. “Good thing I don’t plan on being here so long.”

“Oh?” Seonghwa’s brow raises. “What will you do without us?”

“Once I have trained enough, I’m leaving. I’ll take care of myself, far far away from here.”

“I have no complaints about that,” Seonghwa shrugs. “I just wonder if the others would be as amicable.”

Wooyoung. And now, Jongho.

“They will live.”

There are questions in his eyes, likely because of the ‘they’, but he does not probe further, sighing. “I just want everyone to be safe, kumiho. Especially Wooyoung. He has grown into our spark, mended himself with ease. There is reason why he feels that he must be loved by us all without as much as a slight worry. His insecurities on being the last have not gone away, despite the years. Hongjoong has tried to reassure him endlessly. Giving him leeway on things that happen, using his punishments as just time to reflect. But sometimes his inner turmoil catches up to him.”

“So he thinks he cares for me this way, but it's not the case.”

Seonghwa hums, likely choosing his next words carefully. “I wouldn't speak for Wooyoung, but we've all experienced these moments with him. I am sure he cares for you tremendously, but what comes into question is how much. Is it because he truly truly wants you to be his, or is it because he wants you to not reject him? That worry hasn't gone away and it's been hundreds of years. I doubt it will suddenly mend itself now. I am concerned, and I know it's wildly unserious for an Unseelie to, but I do. I hope that you will care for his heart.”

His lips lift slightly. “Perhaps it would have been better if you were a human, after all.”

“Well I am, and nothing has changed.”

He does not say anything, looking back at the house. “I will kill you if you hurt any of them. Kumiho or not.”

“You will try.”

His expression breaks, smile growing. “Haven’t you gotten bold?”

–

He watches you, how your laugh erupts from your lips. Eyes closed, hand over your lip muffling the sweet sound. His fingers grip the cup, eyes roaming to your body sinking into Wooyoung's side. How you do it with such ease, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you closer. He barely gives you a glance as he does so. Seonghwa knows his own affection is opposite to his mate's. He knows that he's aggressively avoided each chance he has had with you alone. So the bitterness itching the back of this throat shouldn't be there. He wanted you gone – not killed, just far away from them. For their safety, for their protection.

He hates this.

Wooyoung presses his lips against your temple, your lashes fluttering at the soft caress. Seonghwa places his cup down, the click of the ceramic against the marble catching only Mingi's attention. He meets his eyes. Mingi does not say anything, but he does not need to. He could see the uneasiness spilling from Seonghwa even if the others could not. His curious eyes only confirm it.

Seonghwa looks away.

“Nymph, training.” Mingi says simply. Seonghwa sees how you tense at the word. Wooyoung does as well, thumb rubbing your arm before letting you go. The rest carry on their conversations as you follow Mingi out the room, Wooyoung's eyes lingering on the empty doorway.

Just as the doors close behind them, Wooyoung leans forward. “You could hide your jealousy just a bit, hyung. I could feel you seething before seeing it.”

“Don’t say things that make zero sense.”

“A lie within truth, you’ve become an expert at it,” Wooyoung waves him off. “Worry not, I'm jealous too.”

“I said –”

“And I chose not to listen,” he grins, poking his side before stepping away.

–

A few days have passed since then. The others slowly came back, Hongjoong still away for a while. Mingi barely acknowledged after the small training session with you, Yunho sending you a smile before the two disappeared into their respective rooms. You’ve spent some time with Wooyoung, the silence filled with his tales of the in-between. He didn’t notice how your face contorts as he explained their feasts, bodies piled as the Unseelie celebrated. Their feeding habits are not unknown to you, but listening to how much he enjoys killing only makes your chest ache. A vivid reminder of what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Your face is twisted,” he points out after a moment. “Is something disturbing you?”

“I’d rather not hear about your murders, if you don’t mind.”

He laughs. “I am an awful being, solaris,” his smile slips. “There are things that you will never know, never fathom. You may never look at me the same if it came out. That is what worries me, what keeps my mind open at night. It is why I’ve rarely rested since you’ve come here. Why I cannot leave you longer than a few days because I am desperate for you to yearn for me the same. And I know that is impossible, due to your true nature,” his fingers shake as he takes yours into his, “And despite my being of chaos, I do not want it to fall on you.”

“You can tell me what you’re hiding, and I will listen, Wooyoung.”

He shakes his head, “I cannot.”

“This, between the two of us, will end if you do?”

His breath hitches, eyes meeting yours. “It will.”

The fear of not knowing would linger if he never says it. And he knows that. He will not utter it, even if you pry over and over. Even if you leave. Because he is still an Unseelie. And he admits that he is selfish. You could be letting out your last dying breath, and he wouldn’t say it.

Oh, how that scares you terribly.

“You expect me to stay after you’ve told me this?” It is a genuine question, one that you really need answered.

“I expect you to trust me when I say you being here is the only way we can protect you. I expect you to understand that once you leave, you will be taken by the Seelie. And we may never meet eyes again.”

You love him. You do. But what you’ve learned since your last love leaving you is that you can love again. It will hurt terribly, leaving them, but you will live. You will grow. Perhaps the look in your eyes makes him panic, his fingers tightening in their grip. You have seen him angry, hurt, confused. The way he looks at you now frightens you more than any of those times. It is something he has only slipped when you’re in bed together, but seeing it now, it leaves you utterly cold.

Obsession.

He will not let you go. So your next question is fairly straightforward.

“Will you try to kill me if I leave you?”

His eyes widened. “Not… I…” He pauses. “You have to understand the others and their position, solaris. We are not good. But, San, San is good. He is innately good. He has never been like the other Seelies, he has always been different. He has always cared differently. Faeries are selfish, we all are. But he, him, there is not one faerie who can surpass how much care he has in him. And I so desperately want to,” Wooyoung stares at his hands, slowly curling his fingers into his palms. “I want to be good like San. Will you love me, then?” His eyes seemingly glow in the dim light, “Or will I have to always be second to him?”

“There isn't a ranking here, Wooyoung.” And what is he speaking to? Neither of you have ever brought up San in conversations. You don’t even love San, let alone like him. Has someone told him something you haven’t?

“Oh, but there is. You hate Hongjoong, that is what I am sure of. You care for Jongho, for Yunho. But me… even though we have been together, you do not care for me as I do you. I can feel it. I can feel your hesitation when it comes to me.”

“Enough.”

You pull your hand from his, his grip limp. He stands just as you do, eyes flicking behind you. There is no need for you to turn and see who it is, his resolute tone enough. His body is close enough that you must feel the heat emitting from his skin. His fingers lightly brush against your forearm as he moves to get to Wooyoung. You are not unaffected by the brief contact, sliding down your sleeve to get rid of the feeling.

San makes his way in front of his lover, sliding onto one knee. “What are you speaking of to her, Wooyoung? When was the last time you fed?”

“Just days ago, San. I’m okay,” his tone is insistent, eyes flicking to you. “I won’t do anything, I just want to speak with her.”

“Have you heard yourself?” San asks, shaking his head. “This isn’t good for you, letting your thoughts roam like that.”

The way he speaks to him is strange. How his hand is tight around Wooyoung, the other pressed harshly on his shoulder.

As if he is restraining him.

Their words are quieter as you watch, your attention moving to just behind them, on your porch. Your eyes begin to widen.

Something rests on the railing, the same eyes that stared at you through the forest only nights ago. The ones that Jongho insisted were just pixies. The creature grips the railing, large feathered wings draping against its back, gaze still on yours. You stand up quickly, San and Wooyoung looking at you.

“San–” You can barely let his name come out, their heads turning to look back. There isn’t enough time for any of you to register what is happening, the creature breaking through the glass. Its claws sink into Wooyoung’s shoulders, its grip pulling him away from San and out through the broken paned doors. The scream that erupts from San is agonizing, but everything happens too quickly. You can hear crashing downstairs, likely the same creatures attacking everyone in the home. A firm grip on your arm pulls you back. You look to see Mingi, blackened blood smeared on his body as he steps in front of you. His clothing is shredded, barely held together. You left your practicing gear outside, and you’d doubt you’d be able to reach it before one of these things grabs you. All you can do is stand behind him as he moves forward, panic rising in your body. San is fighting off the creatures with ease - oddly none have targeted you just yet.

They seem to be able to fight each one that appears through the crumbled wall with ease, until more and more pile inside. You hear his scream before you see it. San’s body is thrown across the room and into you, the two of you tossed out the room and into the hallway. Mingi yells, but he cannot reach you. You struggle beneath San’s body, struggling to lift him off of you. He grunts, pulling himself off of you.

He stumbles onto his feet but cannot seem to hold his own body weight up, falling to his knees. You’re able to grab him before he hits the floor face first, blood coating your fingers. You rest on your bottom, holding his upper torso on your legs. You look down the hallway, the blur of bodies fighting off the creatures. You don’t have the strength to drag him and you’re afraid to, the gaping hole in his chest stopping you from attempting.

It is all so dark. His blood covers every inch of your palms, seeping through the cracks of your fingers as you desperately press the cloth over it. It is of no use – it bleeds through, dripping to the wood beneath your feet. It splatters against your cheek as he attempts to speak. A shh escaping your lips. You can see how the others fight, their gazes moving to San beneath you, yearning to help and be by his side. Their loud shouting occupies your ears, how they ache, unable to stop the fight even briefly to pull San away from it all. To help him live. To save his life. You are useless in saving him. You haven't the knowledge or spells to mend the deep wound. His fingers wrap around yours that hold him, a soft smile showing the blood that reflects against stained teeth. He will die soon, and you can only look at him in grief. Until, that is, until Mingi's words sink into you.

“Seelie and Unseelie are similar in many ways, and different in so much more. To put it simply – they thrive on light, on goodness, luck, wealth, care, etcetera. We feed on terror, fear, life, chaos. We may seem evil, of which we are to a certain extent, but our kind are both faeries. Our weaknesses are similar. Seelie in particular, though, has a greater one. How joyous we as Unseelie are when we find someone in despair is quite comparable to how aroused they are when they see pure happiness. It is their greatest weakness.”

You look down at him. Your fear, your hurt, it should be able to help him now. To let him feed, gain his strength back. But your angst seems to not affect him at all - the blood continuously pouring from his lips, his body barely holding on. Unseelie wouldn’t hesitate to use you to help themselves. But San, he does not seem even the least bit phased.

You remember when San saved you from the Seelie at the train station, the words uttered to San odd, but not notable enough for you to inquire about it at the time.

“You have forgotten yourself, San. There is only so much you can do before she knows as well.”

San is not an Unseelie.

He never was an Unseelie.

You use your free hand to wipe your tears away, forcing your eyes shut. The idea is likely hopeless, your sadness might be too deep to push away, but you can’t sit here and let him die. Your fingers wrap tightly around his hand, willing yourself to think of something happier. You haven’t thought of Soobin in a while, but it’s the only warm memory you can think of. You look at San, how his eyes stay on yours. How the pulse of his heart seems to slow down, blinks following suit. You will yourself to focus on happier memories, letting one hand go to push his hair away from his face. The memories are not enough, though. His hold loosens on your hand, steady eyes glossing over.

No.

“y/n, move!”

You turn to the side, one of the creatures holding Mingi against the wall. He grunts, elongated limbs thrashing against its face. He cannot break free.

“San…” You whisper, “Please.”

Chapter 6

You've grown to notice that it is never truly cold in the forest around their home. It feels as if it’s a warm bubble, unaffected by outside elements. None of the faeries ever mention it, probably accustomed to the odd temperature. You yourself are not, jacket wrapped around your waist as you walk through the small path Yeosang has taken you on. His clothing is loose, steps gliding along the slow breeze. All of them are quiet when they walk, barely the sound of a leaf crunching beneath their feet. He does not move as fast as San did when you arrived. In fact, there's little space between you, his skin close to brushing against your own.

Since you have known him, he has been indifferent to your presence. Oftentimes mulling in silence whenever you two spent time together, or glued to whatever object was around at the time. Being alone with him didn't happen often – most occasions he'd have San tied to his side, fingers wrapped around his waist, moving where he moved. Or Wooyoung lingering around you. So you're quite surprised he even wants you out here alone with him. You aren't close at all.

“The house could be quite a nuisance,” he says softly, hand sliding in yours as you climb around a protruding rock. Now that you know he can feel what you're thinking, the coincidences of him answering your thoughts aren't so shocking anymore. You expect him to let go once you’ve steadied yourself but he doesn’t, fingers entwined. “Everyone is watching your every move. San unwilling to leave your side for even a breath,” he smiles, slightly toothy grin. “Now you know how I feel.”

“It’s like he’s attached. Each time I leave the room he follows,” you say, and Yeosang snorts, nodding.

“Seonghwa warned him that he is to keep his eye on you. None of us know when you’ll–” he snaps his fingers on his free hand– “Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not going to do anything.” There’s little ground to defend yourself on, but still. You can barely remember what happened then. It was a life or death situation. You doubt it'd happen now. “Just don’t try to kill me or anything.”

“Is that a threat?” he teases, brow raised. “Not to worry. I doubt any of us would do such a thing. We have morals, you know. Even as Unseelie.”

“San was explaining that to me. Between the chaos there is comfort. I can see it when you're around each other. You tease, but you do care. In different ways.”

“We do. Our inane element of chaos is fairly simple. We reign terror on human lives. It has lessened over the years now since humans aren't as inept as before. It takes time for us to ruin their lives,” he glances at you from the side. “You may witness it in person eventually.”

“Just like how you've caused it on mine?” You barely speak above a whisper, but Yeosang catches the irritated murmur, laughing softly as he helps you over a fallen tree. The sound is a bit eerie under these circumstances. You are trapped and he knows it so clearly. His laughter is evident enough of that.

“Precisely. We are almost there, human. Watch your step,” he pulls you closer to him, arm wrapped around your body, fingers light against your waist. Oddly it reminds you of Wooyoung – neither of the two's actions in consideration of the person they bother. In a way you believe that while Wooyoung touches you whenever he likes on purpose, Yeosang fails to realize there is an issue at all. He lets go when you enter the field, gracefully crossing his legs as he rests on the flower petals. You sit next to him with far less elegance, taking in your surroundings.

It is strange to see anything like this in the forest nearest your town. A small waterfall and a body of water sit in front of you, the sound of the liquid splashing filling the night. You pay no mind to how Yeosang watches you, your interest in the natural structures in front of you. A group of deer bend their necks, drinking the freshly cycled water from the pond.

“Hongjoong showed me this place when we first arrived,” Yeosang explains, head resting in his hands. “He told me that I can come whenever I like to clear my mind or hide away. He hasn't shown up here since, I'm sure out of respect for me. If you'd like I can come with you here whenever you need. I thought it would bring you some comfort amongst everything else.”

It does. Your emotions weigh heavy on you. Missing your family, mourning your lost relationship. Hurt sitting inside you with everything that's happened. You haven't gotten the chance to really let that feeling settle because you haven't had time to yourself. Though now you technically still don't, Yeosang doesn't speak. He doesn't interrupt the silence. No, all he does is stretch out his fingers, a book appearing on his palm. He flips through the pages, filling the air between the two of you.

“Thank you.”

The grass beneath you is comforting as you lie back, eyes closed. The sound of a page flipping continues.

“Thanking me is not needed.”

—

“Where did you take her?”

Yeosang barely looks up from his literature, a sigh escaping from his lips. Perhaps the two of you should have stayed out much longer. “Welcome home.”

“You can't just take her out of the house, Yeosang. We have to keep an eye on her at all times. You can't be alone without any of us near.” Seonghwa's voice is frustrated as he opens the fridge, digging through the drawers. “If she attempts to kill you we're too far away to stop it. You have to think these things through before committing to it.”

“The human isn't going to kill me, hyung,” Yeosang murmurs, frowning as he reads the next line. “Oh what a pity.”

“What?” Seonghwa turns, seeing his mate staring at the book.

Yeosang looks up, pointing to the page, “They died before meeting. They've been waiting years but they both died. It's horrific,” he shakes his head, continuing to flip through. It only gets Seonghwa more frustrated, frown on his lips soon to permanently embed itself in his face.

“You are not listening to me–”

“Oh, but I am listening perfectly, Seonghwa. I just wonder when you will finally let one of us know what's on your mind. And why you continue to lie about her to us,” Yeosang hums. “Maybe then I will give you my full, undivided attention. But for now, since you will likely respond with another lie, I will continue to read.” he looks up from his book, eyes resting on his. It makes the lump in Seonghwa's throat grow. Disappointment. Yeosang isn't like the others in that sense. He's hidden with his emotions, only letting his frustration or irritation through individual talks. Never letting another person around hear it. So now, even though they are both alone at the moment, it hurts Seonghwa to see that even with this privacy, Yeosang does not let his true feelings slip out. His hurt must be larger than he can comprehend.

It's not like Seonghwa doesn't want to say it. But solidifying his suspicions without being one hundred percent sure would only be useless. Turn them in a direction that they don't need to be in right now. They should be focused on the growing threat of Seelie entering their land, not you. You would just be a distraction between it all if you are human. And if Seonghwa is right about what you really are, then you're an asset to their team. If his spark all can fall under your charms without much effort, the Seelie are sure to fall for it. And they could finally subdue them once and for all. The only glaring problem with his plan, that is, is if you turn on them. It is the main reason why he dislikes whenever you’re left alone with just one.

“It is for a reason, Yeosang.” Seonghwa holds the tangerine in his hand, slowly peeling off the skin. “I hope you can understand.”

“We don't hide things from one another,” Yeosang says, writing into the pages of his novel. “So if you expect sympathy from me you've gone to the wrong mate. Perhaps Hongjoong, or Jongho will give you what you desire.” His brows furrow, frustration etching itself into his skin. “Now you can go. I'm getting distracted.”

Seonghwa places a tangerine in front of Yeosang's folded legs, leaving the room altogether. Once he is gone, Yeosang grabs the fruit. He stares at it, thumb running along the surface. It pierces the skin, juices sliding down his skin, spilling onto the book that rests in his lap. He sighs in frustration, tossing the fruit into the sink several meters away.

“Everything would be solved if she were dead,” he murmurs.

—

“Three.”

“Nope.”

“Less than that?”

“Much less.”

“It can't just be me, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grins, palm holding up his head as he looks up at you. “It's surprising, no? But it's true. All I've ever wanted, no, desired, was other faeries or creatures beyond your comprehension. Humans are only playthings to me. Meals at the end of the day. Nothing more.”

The thought makes your stomach want to fold in on itself. “You're joking?”

“Unfortunately no,” he sighs, letting his head flop down to your sheets. “Your scent is all consuming, solaris. No other human has affected me in such a way. And it wouldn't make sense to have a human partner when all I'd do is just kill them in the end.” His eyes shift to you. “I wouldn't do that to you though, I like you too much.”

“How wonderful,” Sarcasm drips from your words as he laughs. Easily speaking of killing humans, as if he's talking about playing a game. Some things you'll never get used to when hanging out with Unseelie. Their lack of care for living still makes you feel queasy. Your one murder haunts you every night, but he, no, they, thrive in it. You just cannot imagine it.

“You've overstayed your welcome,” Yeosang stands on the outside of the door, arms crossed against his chest. He nods at you, expression surprisingly warm. Since that night, Yeosang often spent time with you. He hasn't said much, as usual, but he sought you out for quiet. Wooyoung being here right now is likely the opposite of what he wants.

Wooyoung's head rolls to the side, eyes narrowing at his mate. “You bother her too much. Give solaris some space.”

“You're in her room every night,” Yeosang deadpans.

“Yes, and? She enjoys me around her, I liven up the place! Don't you enjoy me?” His pout matches the whiny tone of his voice. In the beginning it was mildly irritating, but you do enjoy it now. Not that you'd admit it to him. He'd never leave your side at that rate.

“No.”

“Solaris!” He whines, tucking himself further into your sheets. It would be humorous if it weren’t for the look Yeosang gives him.

“Leave,” Yeosang says, his voice firmer now. “Mingi and San need you.”

“On a scale of not needed at all to they're currently dying, where does the need of my presence fall–”

“Go, now.”

Mingi. You haven't seen him in a while, assuming that he was on a mission. Knowing that he's around makes you wonder a bit. He hasn't greeted you since you've arrived again. Was he afraid of seeing you? No, that couldn't be. You were afraid of him, not the other way around.

Wooyoung painfully drags himself off your sheets, sending you a quick look before moving past Yeosang. His hand reaches out and grips Wooyoung’s bicep, their eyes meeting. They often communicate without speaking, gazes flicking over one another’s before Wooyoung leaves down the hall. Yeosang turns to look at you, exhaustion easily lining his gaze. Still you envy their connection, unlike anything you’d ever experience yourself. You wouldn’t want to become an Unseelie, but their devotion to each other is formidable. If only your kind were the same. Perhaps if humans were equally bonded to one another, there’d be less infighting and more respect spread across the Earth. But of course, just wishful thinking.

“Hongjoong asked for you,” Yeosang says.

“The man of the hour,” you murmur, sighing. “Why can’t he just come here himself?”

“Believe it or not,” Yeosang smiles. “He is a bit more busy than you think. He didn’t technically ask for me to come find you, but I doubt he would find the time to leave himself. And Yunho is too preoccupied to come here. I’m the only one free at the moment.”

You lift yourself up from your seat, stepping past the small gap between Yeosang and the doorway. He shifts slightly, arm brushing against yours as you make your way around. He does not follow you promptly. You turn to look at him, his sight glued on yours.

“Something the matter?”

His expression changes, and he merely shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll lead the way.”

—

Yeosang leaves you with him, fingers brushing against the back of your hand as he disappears down the hall. He did not try to start a conversation as you two were walking alone, briefly glancing at you from time to time. Whatever you did moments ago must have bothered him enough to not even attempt to dissolve the awkwardness resting between both of you. But you didn’t either, so there’s that.

You slowly enter, your steps echoing as you move further inside. You’ve been inside Hongjoong’s office once before, but never in his room. It is nothing like you expected it to be - no torture devices hanging from the walls. Instead, vinyls resting on clear displays, cds in between each one. In fact, there were several instruments decorated all about, some you couldn’t even recognize yourself. Many likely hundreds of years old. This is his place, his mind. The thought of peering into his personal space, his mind, even if ever briefly, makes you anxious, goosebumps rising on your skin as you take yourself further in. It can’t be that bad.

He at least tolerates you enough to have you still around.

“Why are you here?”

You turn to the side, Hongjoong hunched over at his desk, pen dragging across stationary as he writes. He does not look up so you can only assume he heard your loud steps enter his room. The notebook he writes in is well-worn, corners curved in and cover peeling. His eyes briefly meet yours after you don’t speak, brow raised in expectation. “Well?”

“Yeosang told me you wanted to see me.”

He rolls his eyes, staring at his writing before ripping out a page, crumbling it up and snapping his fingers. The paper engulfed in flames before flickering into ashes, sliding off his table and into the bin beneath. “Yeosang tells everyone a lot of things, that does not mean it’s true. You’ll learn to not listen to his words after a while. He’s quite mischievous,” he murmurs.

“Then I am not needed?” You’re thankful, really. Being in his space, his scent, creates a strange feeling within you. There’s a reason you avoid him, more than just being afraid.

Hongjoong stands, throwing his notebook off his table. You take a step back just as he moves forward, too fast for you to leave his sight. His hands grip your body, pulling you close to him.

“Personal space is a thing, Hongjoong.”

“You want me to speak to you, truly?”

You try pulling away but his hold only tightens. So instead of fighting a losing battle, you speak through tight lips, “Say what you have to say.”

“What is it you want me to say? That I would follow you everywhere, until your steps become my own, until your breaths mingle with mine? There's no need for that. There is no where you will go that will be where I am not. It is all but that simple.” He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing against the skin. It takes everything in you not to flinch. “That is all I need, and it is all you’ve wanted. We will no longer be separated; you won’t be left alone. Is that what you want?”

What is he even saying? The more he trails on, the more fear begins to circulate your veins. He does not seem to notice it, so he continues when greeted with silence. “Soobin is no longer an issue since he’s gone. You’re free to desire whomever you want without him holding you back.”

His name pulls you out of your confusion almost instantaneously. “He was my partner, Hongjoong,” your brows furrow. “He’s the reason I’m even in this town in the first place. Why would he be holding me back? I love him.” And it’s true. There has been a bit of wavering in your love, and he broke your heart not too long ago. Mourning a love lost is one thing, but losing that love for him completely is entirely different.

You don’t see the way his mouth twitches at the word love. What you do see, though, is the way his eyes narrow. “He’s gone.”

“Love doesn’t just disappear when I no longer see him.”

“Then how will it? Must he come to you and say he hates you? Will he have to attempt to hurt you for it to go away? Why do humans continue to love someone who’s left them? Why can’t you let him go?” What else does he have to do? Should he have manipulated the human’s mind before they killed him? Made him break your heart? He thought Mingi’s appearance was enough to stop your mind from lingering on him. But it seems like it has done little.

You stare at Hongjoong as he loses himself in his thoughts. You’ve believed in inherent goodness, but there’s always been this underlying fear of them, just for the nature of them being Unseelies alone. Knowing that despite all of what they say, it’s something they can’t change. It’s something you’ve settled with. But hearing his words, the way his eyes shake as he looks at you… something tells you that he’s off. That despite their comfort and sympathy, they know what happened to Soobin.

An even smaller part of you believes that they’ve done something to him.

“Why do you care?”

He does not respond, waiting for you to continue. In the position you are right now, it’s hard not to.

“It’s hard to,” you explain, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve known him since we were children, and even if I didn’t love him in the romantic sense, I still would love him as a former friend. It hurts to just lose a friendship like that.”

"If I killed it would you forget him?"

You still. His touch is ever so delicate as he waits for your response. Eyes warm, blinking slowly. It's as if he didn't just say he'd do something so heinous, so unthinkable.

"What?" Is all you can respond with.

He leans closer to you, barely a breath away from your lips. His eyes flick over your face, before landing back on your eyes. "If I killed your weak, miserable, disgusting, incompetent, lackluster ex-partner, as you call it, will you forget then? Will you mourn its loss then come into my arms? Will you love me as you love it?"

It. Perhaps his mask slid down just a bit.

"You're out of your mind."

"I am very much sane, y/n. It's a simple question with an even simpler answer."

"No."

"No…?"

"I wouldn't forgive you if you killed him, Hongjoong."

He rolls his eyes, a huff echoing around the room. "How boring and mundane. I thought you were more amusing than that." He moves away from you now, grabbing his notebook he threw across the room. “Yeosang was right, I did want to speak to you. Not yet, but I suppose I have little reason to keep it to myself. Seonghwa suspects that you are not human.”

He moves on from the moment as if it never happened, as if he did not threaten your old partner. The subject change easily distracts you though, the idea so otherworldly that you scoff. Hongjoong snickers at the sound, standing up. “You make that incredulous sound but Seonghwa has rarely ever been wrong in his findings. You may not be as human as you think.”

“I’m only human, Hongjoong. There’s nothing else to it.”

“That you know of,” he adds, placing his book back on his table. “You’ve lived as a human your whole life you know nothing other than that. Of course you’d think the thought silly.”

“What do you want me to say? First you threaten my old partner and now you say that I’m not human? Do you want me to beg at your knees and tell you that it’s not true?”

“The thought of you on your knees in front of me isn’t unappealing,” he chirps.

“You’re,” you hold your tongue. It’s not the smartest thing to do - insulting an Unseelie in their territory. Hongjoong is unhinged already, no need to push him further into his madness. But you cannot help yourself. “You’re disgusting.”

He shrugs, “That’s not the worst insult I’ve ever heard. You've overstayed your welcome, you can go.” His hand waves you off, giving you his back completely. Though you expect nothing less from him, it still feels humiliating. But there's nothing you can do. Not now. You decide it's best to just leave completely, door slamming behind you as you exit the room. Yeosang lingers outside, book closing when you walk past him. He reaches out for your arm but you shove his touch off, making your way to your room.

You don't quite notice how hard you’ve pushed him, his body thumping against the wood. Yeosang looks down at his hand. How his fingers curl into themselves. You pushed him off. Strength formidable to his own with just a spike in your anger. He does not follow you but instead, enter the room you just left.

—

“He is an Unseelie. It is not unlike him to thrive off of your anger and frustration. It's tantalizing, the energy oozing from humans. It is fun for us,” Wooyoung's laying on your bed once again, arms folded beneath his head, eyes on the ceiling. “It tastes wonderful, though not as good as fear.”

“Doesn't really ease my nerves,” you say, flipping through the book he handed you. It's something he grabbed from Jongho, the scrawny writing etched into the pages. You snicker at the jabs he adds in, his notations growing more humorous as you turn pages. It's distracting enough for now. A hand covers the writing, Wooyoung's pout forcing you to stop. You shut the book, placing it on your side table. “He is annoying, Wooyoung. I don't think I'll last here long with him constantly saying shit and me not being able to say anything back.”

“You can argue with him, solaris. He won't kick you out.” He sees your expression, sighing. “We all do it, and none of us have left yet–”

“You are his mates, his spark. He wouldn't throw you out because of an argument. I have nothing left if I leave, Wooyoung. My family would be in danger, Soobin would be in danger, right when I step outside someone is waiting to kill me. It's exhausting to think about.”

“You have to learn to put yourself first instead of worrying about others,” he says. “And your family is as safe as they can be right now. They do not remember you, and you’ve been pulled from their lives. If a Seelie truly digs for it they will find them, but we will know before anything happens,” Wooyoung presses his finger against his temple. “I’ve got them on my radar.”

“You’re only confusing me more.”

“A spell, solaris. I’m keeping my eye on them every second. You’ll know if anything is amiss. Unfortunately though, I’d rather not update you on mundane things. It’ll make letting them go harder to bear.”

You do not agree with his method of lessening your worry, but you’d rather not argue with another Unseelie, too distraught from the last conversation to probe any further. You sink yourself deeper into the seat, closing your eyes. His silence is enough to make you open a lid, meeting the eyes of the Unseelie who continues to stare. You shake your head, closing them once more.

“Taking a picture would be better than you just staring.”

“Is that a joke or can I really take a photo?”

This time both of your eyes open, moving to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot, the devilish grin still on his face as he laughs. “I was kidding.”

“How unfortunate.”

You hum in agreement, eyes closing again. Since Wooyoung is often lingering around your room and having time to yourself is only reserved for late nights, San hasn’t really come around anymore. Sometimes he’d show here and there, but only for a quick once over and disappearing back to wherever he spends his time. It’s why you’ve grown used to Wooyoung threatening to tear your door down if you don’t let him in. Sure, it’s a bit concerning and mildly threatening, but he hasn’t done anything nefarious. Flirting here and there, maybe a bit of annoying banter, but you enjoy it. He’s one of your only companions that you have, even if you were essentially forced to live with him.

Your mother wouldn’t let you out of her sight if she knew.

“Do you like me around, solaris?” he asks after a moment.

“No.”

“If that is truly what you think, you don’t have to say yes and allow me to enter your room if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Nope. You don’t want this conversation to happen now. Not when you’re still figuring this out, trying to decipher what your feelings are for him. “I’m… fine with you being around, Wooyoung. You’re fun to hang around with.”

“As friends?” He asks. You hear the creak of your bed and immediately open your eyes. He sits on the edge of it, eyes looking through the open porch door. He does not look at you and yet, you feel like his attention is focused on the beats of your heart, the sound of your breaths. “Do you consider me a friend?”

“I don’t know.”

And it is true. You’re not sure how to classify your relationship with him. You’re friends, maybe. But it would be a lie if you were just that. He’s open with his own feelings, how much he wants you to want him. You just… don’t understand how he could want you so badly when he has seven other mates to focus on. And from what you know, despite Hongjoong’s slip of information, you’re a human. There’s nothing truly special about you aside from your little blip a while ago.

“Are you afraid of me?”

This is one you can answer with ease. “Yes.”

He turns around to look at you. It’s hard to see his face, the sun shining on the back of his head draping his face in darkness. You can barely see through the rays yourself. You watch as he stands, a slight step towards you. You follow his movements, though making no move to back up or go forward.

“That’s good, to be afraid of me,” he murmurs. “Perhaps you are not as clueless as we’ve previously thought. Being on guard around us, holding your feelings close. It is good.”

“What are you getting at, Wooyoung?”

“What I’m getting at is that you fear us, I can see it. I see how you interact with everyone, with me. But we both know how you feel about me. Even if you cannot say it yourself.” he moves even closer to you. But instead of standing in front of you, he slowly goes down on his knees. “If I am so terrifying to you, will this change things? My submission to you?”

He reaches up, his hands slowly holding yours in his grip as he places them on either side of his cheek. His eyelashes flutter once they touch his skin, a slow, clear groan escaping his parted lips. “It could be so easy for us. You could be mine, and I yours,” he whines.

“You have mates, Wooyoung. There’s no need for me.”

“They do not mind my yearn for you, if that is what you are worried about. None of them do. We all love each other differently, in different ways. My care for you is nothing like my care for them, but it does not have to be. You are different.”

Oh no.

You hold his face in your hands, fingers shakily stroking the tan of his skin, brushing against the mole beneath his eyes. They remain focused on you, lips trembling beneath each caress. You can hear your heart in your ears, pumping violently against your ribcage. It is familiar. A feeling you haven’t felt in a while.

You might just be in love with him.

And it is terrifying.

The revelation is alarming, swelling. It frightens you each passing second. You love him dearly. How has he worked himself into your heart? Is this coercion? Maybe he’s manipulated you to the point of no return. It is reasonable to think so. Before you were terribly frightened of his presence around you, aware that at any moment they may decide to drag their lengthened nails into your chest, killing you. And yet here you sit, Wooyoung crouched beneath you, his nails leaving indents in your thighs from how desperate his hold is, his warm, aroused eyes flicking between yours. The gasps leave your lips as his hands travel closer and closer to you. Right now you are not as afraid of him, not completely.

How could you love someone so easily when you lost the man you thought you were going to marry not too long ago? It should have been harder to fall for his charms. It shouldn’t have happened so quickly at all; and yet here you are.

Your thumb presses lightly into his lips, the flick of his tongue eagerly dragging on the pad of it. Never in your life have you seen such desperation from a partner, such eagerness to have you. It is a wonder you’ve held yourself strong for such a long time when he is so willing under your touch. Is it sinister to want this to continue? Knowing who he is, who they are.

“You are pretty,” the words leave your mouth without much thought. His body shudders at your words, leaning forward, head pressing into your stomach. His hands leave your thigh, wrapping around the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Am I?” His breaths hitch, yearning lining and enfolding itself around two simple words. You have yet to kiss him, to taste his mouth, and he is distressed for you. Touch on your skin, but it is not enough for him. His head tilts up, pupils covering his irises completely. “Am I pretty to you?”

He slowly rises, warm, trembling body moving closer and closer to you. His hands stay on your hips as he hovers over your body, chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands leave his face and cup his neck instead. You are not unaware of how his breath hitches as you hold him. He leans forward, lips lightly brushing against your chin.

“Am I?” There is a pause in his movements. His unwavering despair to have you is not unknown, but he pauses. As if waiting for your approval to move further. A bit humorous how now he is holding himself back when he is so close to having you. “I want you to say it to me, solaris. Tell me.”

“You’re pretty, Wooyoung.”

His lips waste little time in covering yours, tongue entering your mouth immediately. His lips tremble as he tastes you, hands moving to the back of the chair to hold himself steady. The freestanding furniture slides against the floor, hitting the wall behind it as he pushes himself closer and closer to you.

You are overcome with the feeling of not knowing him, of not knowing his touch, his desperate breaths mixing with yours, his teeth sinking into your lips, begging for reprieve. He almost swallows you whole with his eagerness, hands wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. His strength lifts you from the seat entirely, your legs wrapping around him as he presses you against the wall. He lets his lips leave yours, tongue tracing down the slide of your neck, moans loud. It is not surprising he is a vocal lover, and for a moment embarrassment settles within you at the thought of one of the others entering the home, hearing his voice echoing down the halls.

“I do not care,” he murmurs against your skin, “Let them listen to me worshiping you.”

You're unable to speak.

“Would it bother you? For them to hear me kiss you from your neck to your feet, everything in between? Is it so wrong for me to want my palms to burn beneath your touch?”

You laugh at the suggestion, “I am no God that you’d be burned by my touch.”

He smiles against your skin, “How is that possible if I pray to you each night? Do they not say to worship in the low light?” his lips press against the tips of your fingers, teeth dragging across the skin. “You should have heard my prayers, solaris. I am an extremely devoted servant to you.”

“Wooyoung,” Somewhere in between sacrilegious and obscene, his chest rises with laughter.

“For you alone I am weak, solaris. For you, I will crawl, I will beg,” his lips leave your fingers, “San is not the only Unseelie who is violently devoted to the brink of utter obsession, solaris. Can you not feel mine?” His tongue drags against the skin of your collarbone, your body trembling beneath the wet touch. His hands have never left your hips, nails digging into the skin. You are too involved to feel how they slightly puncture, his longing words distracting. “Can you feel how devout I am to you? How gloriously blessed I am to be touching your skin?”

His hands release you for the briefest of moments, wrapping around your torso as he moves away from the wall. The walls around you shift, your mind lost for a moment. You blink, only a moment to glance around and see that you're in fact, no longer in your room. That he pulled you through the thin threads of reality into his. Wooyoung is ever so impatient, letting your body fall against his bedsheets.

“I think I prayed enough,” he continues, staring down at you. “You might have finally heard me beg to see you like this. How lucky I am to be the one to see you like this,” he leans over, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “But I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” you say. The words come out with certainty you didn't know you possessed for him, breathless and accepting of anything he may suggest. His lips lift, but you see that it does not entirely reach his eyes. You lean up, and he sits back down on the floor. Looking up at you. Just as you're about to sit yourself next to him, his hand stops you, shaking his head.

“I need you to tell me what to do to you.”

“Tell you what to do?”

“I can't do it myself. I can't do anything to you myself.” The tone of his voice is strange now. It is as desperate as before, but there is something else between the words. You do not know him well enough to even guess what it may be, why he truly needs you to guide him. But his despair is apparent, the way his hands tremble as they begin to hold your thighs, tears coating the brim of his lids. It is merely a guess, but it feels like he can only move further with your exact words. Your precise permission.

It should not frighten you how much control, even if facetious, you have over him.

“Please solaris.”

“I have to?” You whisper, and he nods.

“It is as I have said. I follow your word.” His hold is lighter now as he waits. “I cannot indulge in your sweetness without permission.”

You grow weary as he continues his explanation.

“The corruption is not merely just a surface level. None of the Unseelie can, not without word from the other partner. Though we reign in chaos, we cannot do activities like this without explicit permission. I need you, I do. But I need you to need me too.” His touch is claw-like, fingertips tracing the marks upon your skin, lips tantalizing as they drag over your knee, breathes tickling the small hairs. “Do you need me?”

You have only been the sun to him. It is no wonder he is so vehement on you aching for him a tenth of how he craves you. You can see it in his eyes, the darkened gaze settling on you, the cage preventing him from moving further. The thought is comforting perhaps, though you'd never suggest that he'd do such a thing, but knowing that Unseelie are unable to force themselves upon someone. Nature is still balanced.

You are the sun to him, his solaris. What he is to you…

You have yet to figure out.

He nods at your question long forgotten, hands unmoving as you lean down. He holds his breath as you place your hand at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to entirely look at you. Submitting to you.

“I want you all over me, Wooyoung.”

His hands drag your legs forward, thighs spread apart. His body could crack a hole in the floor with how much he trembles in anticipation. His fingers change, nails lengthening. You watch in awe as they turn into claws, easily sliding through the material of your shorts, tossing it to the side.

“I've thought endlessly of how I would have you beneath me,” the words are barely let out as he pulls you closer to him, arousal dripping from his words. “Your lips desperately pleading for me, wanting me. How you would let me do anything to you.” His words are coated in lust, lips hovering over where you desire him most. “Can I taste you, y/n?”

“Please.”

His lips cover your clit, smacking together from the wetness that clings to them. Your fingers glide into his soft locks, tugging lightly as his tongue enters you. His moans into you are loud, the tug in your stomach tightening, worsening when you feel his fingers gripping your thighs, tongue finding your most sensitive point with ease.

You attempt to lift your head to see him, your gaze falling on his helmet of hair between your thighs, nestled. Soft whines spilled from your lips as you place your head back down on the sheets, the silk forcing your touch to only grip him. Your thighs tighten as you beg him for something you’re not sure of, his movements continuing until you tug a bit harder on his hair to pull him away. His shadow slides up your form, “I’m not just done with you, solaris.”

He lifts your head, pressing a light kiss just beneath your ear. “I haven’t had enough of you yet. You are godly, and yet I cannot help but sin,” his breath was hot as he exhales onto your skin, goosebumps left in his wake as he moves back to where he once was. His fingers tremble slightly against your skin, his hooded eyes resting on yours as he leaned back down, lips wrapped around your clit once more.

Wooyoung’s hand grips and tugs at your thigh. You blink once more, a field of clovers beneath the two of you. The evening sun is low in the sky, peeking through the trees, the sunlight leaving a streak across his cheeks, brown eyes lighter. He practically glows, eyes shining with need, tongue between his lips to softly flick over your bud. The pull in your cunt grows once more, stronger and stronger as his eyes flutter close. Leaves rustle, a warm breeze brushing against your skin.

“My solaris, how do I shine for you?” he whispers. The simple sentence along the return of his lips to your lower ones make your muscles grow tight, a soft moan vibrating up your throat once relief and warmth began rushing beneath your skin. Wooyoung holds you close as you tremble, lips still wrapped around you as you climax once more, unable to let your grip on his hair go, pressing him harshly into you.

His eyes are warm as they look up at you, your body covered with your shirt, chest rising and falling slowly. His lips are slow, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, “how are you? still with me?”

You swallow slowly, struggling to find yourself after what happened. A few seconds pass before you can speak, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He laughs, continuing the seemingly never-ending drag of his soft lips up her stomach, his fingers pushed under your shirt to glide it up. They’re soft, warm as your lift your hands away from his hair and up, allowing him to see all of you. The last person that’s seen you this vulnerable was Soobin, and before that… not many. His eyes are glazed over as he takes in your exposed chest, his index finger tickling your skin as he lightly moves around the flesh of your breast. “Just for me?” He leans forward, cheek pressed against the soft flesh, trembling. “You’re more than what I’ve ever imagined.”

“Wooyoung…” Your mouth is dry as you let his name leave your lips, the word coming out rougher than you intended it to. He groans, shaking his head slightly.

“I would never tire of hearing you say my name like that,” he murmurs. “It is a shame the others cannot hear since we are so far.”

You look around as he slips his fingers into one of your free hands. The field is small, likely near where Yeosang brings you every once in a while. The thought makes you wonder – he did say that no one knew of the place aside from Hongjoong and himself. How could Wooyoung know to bring you here?

“Your thoughts move elsewhere, are you alright?” His eyes are coated with concern, hand lifting to brush a thumb against your cheek. “We can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“No, no everything is fine.” It may be that Yeosang let this private place slip his tongue while speaking with him. And perhaps Wooyoung found it as beautiful as you did and decided to bring you here. You let those thoughts settle within you as he leans down, his lips pressing against your jaw. A hum vibrates against his lips, your moment of confusion slipping away once he lines himself up and pushes forward, just enough to have your eyes widening almost immediately. You expect the impact to at least ache, but it feels warm and soft and full.

“So warm, my solaris. Made just for me, yes?” His entrance is slow, his hand that cradles your face sliding to your shoulder. “I need to ask, solaris.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your forehead as he pushes deeper. “We… I feed on life. On human life. And you are full of it, pretty. So so beautiful and holy and bright.”

His words make no sense, a question still not uttered. “What are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“Can I taste you?” His hands slide down to your waist as he finally fully enters. They glow a dark orange against your skin, his eyes on yours. “It would be just a small taste. It wouldn’t kill you. It will feel good, solaris. You will feel good.”

The question is still vague, but even with you clouded mind, you can pick through the mess of words. A low moan comes from you as he pulls out slightly, entering again. “You want to eat my soul?”

“A sliver, it will barely be missed.”

“…Okay.”

The fear disappears once his lips cover yours, tongue entering your mouth as his hips set a steady rhythm. “You’ll love it.” You begin to keen under him, feeling wave after wave of heat surrounding the two of you, the sound of birds above you chirping as he takes you. The ache entering through you from the pleasure his cock pressing in and out of you and the sensation of being beneath his torso. His fingers gripping your waist break skin, and then you see it. The orange light that you presumed was spilling through his fingers was not him, no. It is you, your aura surrounding the two of you. Wooyoung’s pace almost doubles at the sight, the smell woodsy and sweet. The mop of black hair seeps into a orange color as it swirls through the air, eyes matching. It is a sight to see between pleasure, you, yourself, seen in an unknown light. Just as he pulls away from your lips, your soul enters your skin again.

His brows furrow, but he does not comment on it, instead, lifting up onto his hands to find another angle, sighing in relief it once your knees were up at his sides, feet hooked around his waist. The question as to why he cannot feed on you lingers.

“Perhaps my sin is too much for a soul like yours,” he whispers, dropping his weight down onto his elbows, then further, arms wrapping around you. “I will enjoy you nonetheless.”

“What are you–”

His hips press harshly into yours just as you begin to speak, watching as your eyes roll back, lids fluttering. You’re not quick to notice a hot tear falling down your cheek, rolling down your temple, lost in the darkness as his cum seeping out of his tip slowly but surely began melting your senses into nothing. The sound of skin begins echoing in the air and trees, his knees sliding up to push his thighs against you, pressing him deeper. You slowly lose your sense of the world you, focused on his cock pressing into you, his arms around you as you writhe with each thrust.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. “You always shine brightly, solaris, and yet you shine even moreso. How am I to keep my hands off you now that I’ve finally had you?” The sound of his voice is lost in between the sounds of skin slapping, the way he rocked into her body.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His eyes widen briefly, the orange fading as they meet yours. You somehow find the strength to keep focused on him despite how intensely your climax is coming. It’s the first time you’re unable to read his expression, perhaps a tint of wonder if you could focus. After a few seconds your thighs tighten, gasps leaving your lips. “Wooyoung–”

“Just like that pretty, just for me.”

Your head falls back, straining to let out the moan that clawed its way up, vise forming around his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hell,” he grits, hips stilling as he cums, stuttering with each succeeding one. Your breaths escape your lips, lids heavy as you feel his own lips press lightly against yours.

—

“It has been hours since they were together, and he has still not let her leave his room. Should she not eat?” Yunho murmurs. They can see how his annoyance has gathered around him, hand gripping the apple between his fingers tightly, brows furrowed enough to become one. He is right – neither you nor Wooyoung has left his room. Seonghwa and maybe San could break the barrier that he has placed around his resting place, but neither wants to. Only making Yunho grow more irritated.

“They were together, Yunho. Let them simmer in it before they're told the news,” San rubs his arm, presses a soft kiss against his temple. “It is soon to be ruined once they enter a shared space.”

“He’s not going to move on from this,” Hongjoong sighs, eyes closed as he tucks himself further into the couch cushions. “I’m not ready to hear him boasting everyday about something I don’t care about in the slightest. San you might have to whip up a spell to shut him up.”

“I doubt he’d say anything outlandish-”

“Good afternoon~” His warm voice echoes through the room as he enters, almost floating as he glides along the tiles to the fridge. He presses his lips against Yunho and San’s cheeks while he passes by, the ghost of his magic roaming over Hongjoong’s arm and squeezing it. “Lovely day.”

Hongjoong’s lip twitches, but he makes no move to respond to Wooyoung’s words, annoyance already riddling his features. Yunho glances at Wooyoung, watching as he sings a song, pulling ingredients from open drawers and cabinets. No one says a word in response aside from San, easily wrapping his arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his mate’s temple.

“We haven’t seen you in almost a day.”

“Busy. And solaris is hungry, and I assume the rest of you are,” he places his utensils on the counter. “Ready for some human food?”

All of their faces wrinkle in disgust at his words, a chuckle draping his lips as he rolls his eyes. “It wouldn't hurt you to feed on things other than humans.”

“It tastes of chalk and sadness,” Yunho mumbles, watching as he coats the pan with butter. “And smells rancid.”

“Whatever, you're missing out on the joys in life. Sweets aren't the only thing that tingles the taste buds.”

“You would know,” San is barely heard as he bites on the apple slice, but it is audible enough for their joint laughter. “I'm surprised you haven't spilled your secrets yet. Not often do you keep your escapades to yourself.”

“I’m not going to brag, I would never kiss and tell.”

Yunho’s eyes narrow. “You do, in fact, kiss and tell. That’s all you do actually, I’m surprised you were even able to let that lie slip.”

Wooyoung sticks out his tongue, tapping the pepper into the pan. “Well not now. Solaris is too special for me to discuss things like that around you all. A star that glows like her demands privacy.”

“Did she threaten you?” Hongjoong snickers, peeking out a lid when he doesn’t hear an immediate response. “Oh? She did?”

He frowns. “Not necessarily. I would just like to keep it quiet. It's not just between us eight now, she’s different. Humans are more private. I don't want her uncomfortable.”

“Honorable,” Yunho notes. “Perhaps you have grown.”

“There’s barely a hundred years between us,” Wooyoung deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not as young as you think I am.”

—

“They were together.”

“Correct.”

“And you have no qualms with that?”

“They are not young and we are not responsible for their actions, Seonghwa. I don’t care what they do in their free time. You’re just upset that she wasn’t with you first as all. She likely would have if it weren’t for that disgusted look you give her every time you’re in a room together.”

“She’s not a commodity to be passed around, Hongjoong. I don’t care if she is with me first or not at all. All that I’m saying is, it’s irresponsible to ignore it.”

If Hongjoong’s eyes could roll further back they would. He closes his notebook slowly, looking up at Seonghwa. “What do you suppose we do, then? Place a chastity belt on Wooyoung, perhaps cuff him to his bed so that he cannot move near her? Ship him off to Yeonjun himself to deal with?”

  “That is not what I’m saying at all. You treat this like it’s a joke,” Seonghwa frowns.

“What you’re suggesting is a joke. I’m not stopping either of them from indulging in one another. I didn’t expect Wooyoung to win her over so soon, but it was inevitable. You hid your suspicions from them, but even with it, it would only make it more enticing for him. He does not back down from a challenge. Especially one he is so obsessed with.”

“You told me to keep it to myself,” Seonghwa rubs his temple, breathing deeply. “I was going to tell them-”

“You still could have. You still can. What I said was a suggestion, nothing more.”

There is no use in arguing with him, Seonghwa thinks. Hongjoong knows what his suggestions are - oftentimes there are threats hidden beneath them. And though he loves him more than life itself, he cannot stand how nonchalant Hongjoong can be. Even if the human, you, does not know your true nature yourself.

“Fine.”

Hongjoong smirks, “That was much easier to deal with.”

“I will tell them tonight. All of them.”

Hongjoong’s smirk twitches. Seonghwa is not looking at him directly, so he does not see the slight dip in his expression, “You will?”

“As you said, it was merely a suggestion. Perhaps their minds will change once they all know of her true nature. And we can finally kill her.”

“You want her dead?”

Never. The thought forms bile in his mouth. “I’d rather not touch her at all. But what other choice do we have? She will kill us all if we let her stay. It is the best decision right now.” He found you, he tracked you down. If he killed you in the beginning despite the resistance to their powers, perhaps it would have saved him from the guilt that begins to riddle his body. He should not care for a creature like you, knowing it is what you do. And still, with knowing, he cannot stop it from happening. Which is why he needs to tell the rest of them.

“They won’t let you kill her. Most have already succumbed to her charm.”

“... I will do what I must to keep us safe.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Then so be it. You have no objection from me. I’ve grown wary of her being around anyway. Humans are too… irritating.”

“Not a human.”

“Right. I won’t let the others know of my opinion and side with the majority.”

“Sometimes, they would like to hear what their leader thinks, Hongjoong.”

He pauses for a moment. “It will influence their decisions too much for me to say what I want.”

“And you think your thoughts do not influence mine?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely curious. Hongjoong laughs at the question, shaking his head.

“Seonghwa, I've known you for hundreds of years. You’d rather throw yourself in front of a deadly attack than take my opinion over your own. It is settled.”

—

You sit near the back of the room, Wooyoung’s presence wrapped around the headrest of the chair you occupy. No one else has approached you, though you sensed the lingering eyes of Yunho to the side of you. He gave you a smile when you entered, the slight downturn of his lips as he met Wooyoung’s gaze obvious. It did make you nervous that it was somehow your fault he looked furious. But the expression was gone with a blink.

“Mingi won’t be joining us, but he already informed me of his opinion prior to our meeting,” Hongjoong says, sliding past the rest and sitting in the loveseat farthest away from the entrance. His eyes bore into yours, oddly twinkling. “It will be kept in mind as we’re voting.”

“And what is it that we’re voting on?” Yunho asks.

“It has taken me a while to consider what has been going on the past few months, and how it affects all of us, including y/n,” Seonghwa does not meet your eyes as he speaks, staring at an unoccupied couch. “Our voting today is to decide if she lives or dies.”

Silence falls over the room. Your own chest tightens, palms growing moist as the seconds tick by. Kill you? Has what you’ve done destroyed their relationship with other faeries to the point of no return? Seonghwa’s reluctance to even be near you was not only for disgust like you thought before, but something deeper. Hongjoong wasn’t lying when he told you that they believed you to be not human. But you’re not hiding anything yourself. Being anything but human just feels impossible.

“You’re joking?” Wooyoung stands up from where he is behind you, slightly stepping forward. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She killed Beomgyu, Wooyoung.”

“So? I kill faeries and humans all the time! Why should that matter?”

“You know why,” San speaks this time, shaking his head. “It has caused us many problems. But Seonghwa, killing her? What use is that to us?”

Seonghwa sighs. “She is not entirely human, that’s why.”

Their gazes all meet yours from across the room. Even Wooyoung, his valiant effort to coax them into saving your life, expression drops slightly, confusion coating his gaze. As if questioning the validity of everything you’ve told him. Somehow that look makes you feel utterly guilty, despite not believing in his claim.

“I am a human,” you retort. “That, whatever happened at that time, it wasn’t… it was me, but it was a fluke. An adrenaline rush.”

“How can we assume she’s not human just because she killed a Seelie?” Yeosang asks. His expression remains neutral, potion book placed face-down on the counter. “Strength like that is not uncommon in humans.”

“Correct, but we all know that a human cannot tear apart a Seelie, especially the way Beomgyu was. His body was unrecognizable, torn to shreds. Someone with her size and strength, even with a burst of adrenaline could not take a Seelie down like that. She would have to know weaknesses, have weaponry-”

“It is unlike you to say allegations without undeniable truth,” Jongho interrupts him. “So I believe what you’re saying, hyung. What is she, if not a human?”

It’s interesting how despite being in the same room with them, they all ignore your presence entirely, speaking amongst themselves. Likely because you can lie with ease and without restraint. They won’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, anyway, except maybe Yunho or Wooyoung.

“Now this may bother you all. But there is no other explanation. She is a kumiho.”

“That’s impossible-”

“It isn’t,” Seonghwa interrupts Wooyoung before he begins, holding up a hand. “We are real, so it is not too far gone to believe in something that was once unreal to us. There are still beings out there that we do not know of. Her strength, the claw marks on the dead Seelie. She has not turned on the full moon and her blood does not contain any sort of wolf characteristics. Kumiho can blend amongst humans the easiest after they have lived over a thousand years. It is not unrealistic to assume that she has moved past that point and become a human woman.”

“She hasn’t even attempted to lure any of us.” Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “Nor has she eaten human flesh.”

“That we know of.”

You can only scoff, shaking your head. “This is unreal.”

“There is no other explanation. Your strength is formidable to our own. Likely, the feline creature hiding inside this human appearance in front of us has prevented itself from remembering what it was. For protection or otherwise - we have yet to find out.”

Wooyoung’s gaze wavers the longer he listens to Seonghwa’s explanation. In fact, it seems that each of them believes everything that comes from his mouth. But it is impossible. What would be the reason for hiding your true being from yourself?

“Now we vote, then,” Hongjoong starts. “Mingi has voted yes to kill her. Seonghwa?”

“It is what needs to be done, yes,” Seonghwa agrees.

“Yunho?” Hongjoong asks, turning to him.

His gaze is on the floor, thinking. After a few seconds passed, “No. I don’t think she’s a threat to us. We keep her alive.”

Hongjoong looks at Yeosang.

Yeosang ponders the thought as everyone discusses loudly amongst one another. His eyes meet yours across the room, just being Wooyoung as he seemingly protects you with his body. You look afraid. Your eyes move to each person as they speak, your nerves palpable enough to be tasted in the thickened air. If he himself agrees to your death, it is likely that San would agree. Neither of them truly differ in opinion on things like this. Jongho would soon follow out of mere respect. And you would be killed promptly. It is what he has wanted since you’ve arrived here, turning everything sideways. So why, as he looks at your pathetic cowering behind Wooyoung, why does he feel such pity for you?

He looks at Wooyoung again. Though his fascination with you is beyond his capability of understanding, he can see it. How his eyes look at his spark desperately, pleading with them to save you. How Yunho’s jaw clenches, quietly observing. He wanted you here, wanted you protected by them. Though you aren’t exactly the pitiful human he once thought you to be, he still cares for you, strangely.

“Well, what do you want to do?” San whispers into his neck. Useless, since they all can hear what he’s saying aside from you. “Kill her?”

His next words will change everything. Yeosang meets your eyes across the room. His own widen slightly at your expression, flicking down to read your lips. The words mouthed to him are enough for him to decide.

Please help me.

“There’s no reason to kill her if she does not hold any threats to us right now.”

Seonghwa whips his head to Yeosang. Anger expressed along the vein on his neck, the set of his brows. He will not say it outright, but Yeosang has just betrayed his trust. Perhaps Seonghwa thought he would allow the woman to be killed just because … well, because he wanted it. But he cannot now, not when things are turning out so interesting.

“You are sure of this?” Hongjoong asks. His eyes sparkle. “Truly?” Despite only being the fourth oldest, his words hold weight for the rest.

“I am,” Yeosang says simply. The tense gaze of your expression has not dropped. Probably because you don’t realize that San would follow his lead, then Jongho. Your hand wraps around Wooyoung’s arm that traps you behind him. “If need be in the future with reason, sure. But now, no.”

“This is a mistake-” Seonghwa begins, stopping once Hongjoong flicks his finger. His mouth is shut in an instant, the feeling of magic swirling through the air.

“Hasn’t he spoken enough tonight? There are three remaining votes. As always, I will side with the majority. San, you’re next.”

“No need to kill her,” San agrees. Hongjoong’s smile grows louder, eyes flicking to Wooyoung.

“Your answer is obvious, but please Wooyoung, give your vote.”

Wooyoung covers your body almost completely as he speaks. “Of course, I will not kill her.”

“What does our youngest think?”

“I enjoy her being around, I can’t imagine her not being here,” Jongho smiles at you from across the room. “She can stay.”

“Well, as with the majority, y/n’s life is spared. Apologies to Seonghwa and Mingi, but as you know, it has now been decided. Take all the time you need to process this.” He flicks his finger again toward Seonghwa. The room expects him to roar his complaints, but he only looks around, tiredness seemingly flowing off of him.

“I trust you all and always have. And I assumed that you trust my words as well. But as Hongjoong has said, majority rules. I hope that you all keep an eye on her, and make sure that with the slightest change in behavior, monitor it. It can come at any time since she cannot control it herself,” Seonghwa looks at you, eyes meeting. “And I hope, y/n, you listen to my words yourself. Leave if you feel the change happening.”

He leaves the room, Hongjoong disappearing from his spot, likely following Seonghwa close behind along with Yunho. Leaving the rest of you alone.

Wooyoung’s body seeps into your figure the way he embraces you so tightly, lips pressing against your temple lightly. “I’ll be back, pretty.” His touch disappears as well. Jongho glances at you sympathetically, eyes glazing over yours for a moment before he too, blinks away. The instantaneous disappearing bodies is not something you’d ever get used to.

It does not distract you enough from what Seonghwa said, though. You are not human, despite how you’ve lived, how much you have insisted. A kumiho? As he further explained it, it still made entirely no sense to you. You’ve lived your life plainly, rarely if ever dated once in a while. Soobin was your second official relationship, the first lasting no more than a couple of years. The way he looked with such disgust as he explained it, how your age superseded everyone’s in the room. How your true nature was hidden from even yourself - it is impossible to think of.

“It is interesting to look at you, knowing what you are,” San says, looking around Yeosang to peer at you. “Do you have the urge to bite me?”

“I don’t feel anything, San,” exasperation coats your words. “I don’t even believe it myself.”

“Seonghwa is rarely wrong,” Yeosang murmurs. “That is why we take his word as the truth. Since you are kumiho, your training with Mingi will be much different now. Likely more intense.”

Your arms ache at the thought. You have yet to see Mingi yourself, but the training from before was strenuous. You look at Yeosang, remembering he expression on his face as he peered over at you, the tired eyes filled with curiosity as he voted to keep you alive. You are grateful, nonetheless. But the question lingers the longer you look at him.

“Do you want me dead?”

Yeosang pauses at the inquiry, straw resting between his lips. Eyes flicking to yours. There is little to decipher when it comes to him since he rarely tells what he may be thinking, and you're not with him often. But something in the way he looks at you. He does not respond right away – an indication that he may twist his words to satisfy your question.

“In the beginning I thought it'd be best to get rid of you before it escalated. Even more recently, I thought the same. But now I am not so sure,” he places his drink on the counter. “Most of us do enjoy having you around, human or not. Though I am not as enthused as Yunho or Wooyoung with your presence, I no longer hate it. So I have grown to tolerate it. Until I cannot.”

“You will kill me?”

His smile is strange, hollow. “If I must. Your life isn't that important. Or I'll wait until it has run out itself. You may only have a few more decades left, anyway. They will get over it – their fixation will move to something more interesting eventually.”

How casually he talks about your life. Like it is nothing. He does consider it as nothing, as he has said. None of the Unseelie is this house told you do directly as he has done. You should feel a bit wary around him now, knowing he could change his mind in seconds and kill you. Even now, as he reads the spellbook resting on his thighs, he could kill you. And San, sitting nearby, would only help.

So feeling comforted at the thought is unusual.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, and he snickers. “Not much of that going around here.”

“Sure.”

San leaves a bit after that. The silence echoes around the small room, eyes moving to the doorway at the sound of the door clicking open. The sight nearly startles you, seeing him for the first time in months. Mingi is followed closely by Yunho, bodies brushing against one another as they enter. Yeosang takes that as a sign to leave you, closing his spellbook and gracefully hopping off the chair. His fingers drag across Mingi's arm as he leaves.

“Oddly quiet around here,” he notes, opening the fridge. Yunho sits where Yeosang just was, smiling at you. “Have you been getting along well despite today?” He asks, thanking Mingi as he passes him an apple. “Wooyoung said you've been making progress adjusting, but I rarely take his word for it.”

“It's been better now,” you say. “It's not one hundred percent yet, but I am getting used to being around here. I hope it just ends soon.”

“I heard your life was spared. It should make you happy. Ah,” he snaps his fingers. “They haven't told you yet,” Mingi sits on the opposite side of you. “We will have to leave soon.”

“We?”

“Half of us. Yunho, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and myself. Seelie requested our presence. We would have all went, but with these circumstances, it may be best to leave half of us here.”

Circumstances meaning you. Mingi does not further explain and you do not insist on him doing so, instead sinking further into the chair you rest on. “So I am left with the rest of you.”

“Left is a strong word,” Yunho mumbles into his cup. “More like babysat.”

Your frown deepens, and he laughs. “It is but a joke. You can take care of yourself. They won’t do anything to you while we’re gone. Yeosang and San will likely stay to themselves now that Seonghwa has relieved him of his duty to watch you. Jongho will be entertaining enough, no?”

“She is older than us all, no need to treat her as a faerling,” Mingi murmurs.

“She thinks she’s almost three decades old, Mingi.”

“Time to see reality.”

They banter back and forth about you, clueless as to how you’ve already left, steps quiet as you make it to your own bedroom. Seonghwa’s words, no matter how convincing, is not something you believe to be true. He says you conjured up this false reality of your life to blend into the human world, but it makes no sense to you. Nothing, none of it does. You remember your parents, you remember your family life. How you so easily deluded yourself into thinking that it was real when it’s not is beyond your comprehension. Likely because you don’t believe it at all. Why would you hide it from yourself? There is no reason to block your own mind from it - even if you are as he says you are. Jumping to such a conclusion is ridiculous.

No. You’re not a kumiho.

“You mother fucker.” Striding into the office with a permanent scowl on your features you pointed right at Yunho. “You knew didn't you?!”

Yunho looked up from his coffee, stirring in some of the cheap creamer they had at the corner coffee station. “I know a lot of things, have to be a bit more specific, doll.” He drawled out with a teasing smirk as you stomped over to him.

“You fucking knew didn't you? That HE'S my neighbor?!!” You pointed at Mingi's empty desk, even more pissed off he wasn't here yet for you to yell at as well.

Yunho's smirk turned into a full blown grin. “Oh… that.”

“Why is there yelling first thing today?” Seonghwa emerged from his office, frowning. 

“Did you know?!” You swiveled on Seonghwa, arms spread wide and brows raised high. 

Seonghwa tilted his head in confusion, looking to Yunho for clarification but he was laughing too hard to answer. “Look- I need an explanation.”

It was your luck Mingi walked in down the hall, probably from a back door, in a seemingly good mood. He paused when he saw you, expression shifting. “Oh look, my new neighbor.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes and head, pointing at him. “I could have lived the rest of my life not knowing the sounds you make during sex. And did you HAVE to pound into my wall all night?”

Yunho's laughter increased in volume behind you, his coffee set down as he held his stomach. Even Seonghwa chuckled.

Mingi just shrugged, making his way to his desk with visible marks on his neck. “I wouldn't mind if you got off to them buttercup, since you'll have to get used to them.”

“Oh my God are you serious?!” Even more frustrated you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Sounds like you're stressed- have you tried sex? I hear it's great.” Mingi chuckled as he sat at his desk, patting his lap. 

“Go fuck yourself.” You flicked him off, glare trained on him but you noticed Hongjoong and a sleepy San entering from the same direction that Mingi had come from.

“Why do that when there are plenty of women who want to do it for me?” Mingi shrugged, receiving a high five from a still cackling Yunho as he sat down with his coffee.

“Fucking manwhore.”

“And not even a man whore would sleep with you.”

“What did we miss?” Hongjoong chimed in, adjusting the suit he wore while San was in jeans and a black form fitting long sleeve. Seonghwa leaned in and filled in Hongjoong.

“I mean I offered- but apparently I wasn't good enough.” Yunho huffed out, catching his breath.

You zeroed in on San, huffing in frustration. “He's probably the only one here I'd take up on that offer.”

San lifted his brow, the wound from the other day no longer covered up. “Is that an invitation?”

“Ew, I don't want to hear that shit.” Mingi gagged out, being dramatic about it.

“Too fucking bad.” You sneered out at him, hands on your hips. “It is an invitation.”

Before San or Mingi could say anything else, Hongjoong cleared his throat. “While I am enjoying the banter, we’re burning daylight. Mingi, Yunho, you two come chat with me for a moment, I have a new assignment for you probably. San, get them caught up so that you can get back to your assignment.”

“I can help him with that.” Seonghwa offered, stepping past you to the board you now realized was rearranged. “We set this up for you.”

You were almost touched- almost. Their kindness always came with a secret motive, even if you don't know what that is yet. Still, you offered your thanks. “The Green Vipers right?”

“Mmhmm.” San stepped up to your right, looking over the board just as you did. “Ah- we have to fix something.” He rushed off, leaving just you and the Vice-Captain as the others had slunk away. 

He stood to your left, his presence almost domineering. But as the seconds passed you realized that was more so you being on edge. Very little he's done has left a good impression on you, but the quiet between you wasn't that bad. That might have to do with the entirety of your focus being on the board.

You recognized some of the names, but there were some new ones. One stood out to you the most, and you tried to place it. He wasn't one of the big 4, but right under. “Who is that?”

Seonghwa had been watching you, immediately glancing at the picture you pointed to. “Hwon Taejin, he's sort of a freelancer. While he has ties to the Green Vipers, he sort of runs his own organization of runners he sells out to whichever gang pays him the most. Currently it's the Green Vipers.”

“Huh… I think I've interviewed him before.” You mind flitted through your previous cases. “Actually… his name came up a few times.”

“Not surprising, since his runners are usually minors. They get less time for bigger crimes, or uniforms just overlook them or give them warnings. Your unit dealt with those crimes huh?”

You nodded slowly, pieces being put together. “When I interviewed him… it was because of his nephew who he has sole custody of. He got found with too much illegal goods to just be ignored. I think the kid only got a few months in Juvie and was supposed to be seen by child protective services. He was thirteen…” that was a year ago and you remember the hell you caused Chan after that case. All because you had a very bad vibe about this Hwon Taejin.

Your jaw tightened just thinking about it. “This scumbag- I didn't realize he had ties to the mafia but it makes sense.”

San returned then, a file in hand. “Forgot to grab this from Yeosang. A new case connected to this.”

“Was it the murder?” Seonghwa asked, moving around you to take the file from San as the latter went to the board and pinned up a few pictures. 

Your mouth fell open, taking a step forward and ripping it off the board. “He was murdered?”

San frowned down at you, then looked over to Seonghwa. “Does she know the kid?”

“Seems so. She was just telling me-”

“He was just a kid. Was it his uncle?” You looked up at San, interrupting Seonghwa.

He shook his head. “It's probably the Green Vipers doing. They… have a certain way of dealing with members who want to leave. It doesn't always result in death but that's more likely for the adults who can take a beating.”

“I thought you said Hwon didn't belong to the Green Vipers?” You turned to Seonghwa, hands trembling as you clutched the picture tight. 

Something in your expression caused him to soften, taking a step forward and gently taking the picture out of your iron grip. “It's possible Hwon sold the kid to the Vipers and the kid wanted out. We don't know for certain but we'll look into it.”

“He's just a kid… w-was just a kid.” Without the picture to hold onto, your arms wrapped themselves around your stomach.

San gently called your name, flanking your other side and reaching out as if to touch your back but made no physical contact. “We'll get them.”

“How?!” You snapped out, stepping away from them both. “The S.K unit was supposed to get minors safe and off the streets- get them on better paths. I arrested this kid, I charged him and sent him to Juvie and we did ALL we could by law to help him- and that clearly wasn't enough. What happens when it's another kid? When it gets worse than this?” You nodded to the picture Seonghwa put away. 

The young boy wasn't even recognizable from how bloody and bruised he was. Head smashed in, clothes dirty and soaked in old blood and just left in an alley to rot. If it wasn't for the mug shot San had put on the board you wouldn't have been able to guess who it was.

“We do the best we can.”

“Oh don't give me that shit Vice! I heard enough of that from Chan. ‘If we don't follow the law we don't lead a good example’. Or my favorite being ‘we have to trust in the system’. Ha!” You scoffed, jutting your chin at the board. “These fuckers run circles around the system and laugh at it and it gets young kids killed. Fuck the system and I don't care if you write me up for it.” You snarled out.

Seonghwa and San shared a look, watching you huff and pout at the board with your nose scrunched in disgust. After a moment, Seonghwa asked “What would you do then? To stop them?”

Still frustrated, you answered honestly. “Make them destroy each other in a way that causes the least damage to the general public. Two organizations have smaller units just to control and clean up nuisances. I'd make a nuisance out of this fucker to the point that the others have no choice but to take care of him. Preferably in a very painful way.” You sneered out.

San chuckled, nodding. “That's a pretty good idea. How'd you make him a nuisance?”

You thought about it, letting your mind wander. “Plant evidence. I'd take it a step further and pin two groups against each other. From what I know the Green Vipers do mostly illegal fight clubs- that's their main source of income. But they're cocky… I'm sure it won't be hard to get them angry enough at a large group, maybe the Red Wolves? No, they'd just take the minors and lower members for their trafficking.”

“What about the White Guardian's?” 

You looked up at Seonghwa at his suggestion, snapping your fingers and grinning. “Yes. They care about keeping a low profile. If the Green Vipers stir up enough shit, they would take action. San mentioned how a few of the smaller gangs had disappeared over the years because they were drawing too much police attention. The running theory is the Guardians took them out right?”

“Mhmm.” You don't know what it was about Seonghwa's expression, but it felt like a mother encouraging their child's inspiration. There was no judgment in his eyes, you had his undivided attention and it felt… accepting. 

It urged you to keep going. “The Black Pirates are also good for control. If we could get them to tighten the Green Vipers trade and limit their funds… no, I don't think I know enough about them just yet.” You trailed off, pinching your chin between your thumb and forefinger in thought.

“What do you know about them?” San asked this time, done fixing the board but you refused to look at it; not with the picture on the board.

You shrugged, recalling your notes. “They seem more on regulating crime than doing crime. They monitor and control usage of the docks by other organizations. According to the Blue Goblins, they have to pay a hefty fee to do business in the south part of the city and in regulated areas. There was a small massacre between them two years ago when the Goblins broke that rule- their drugs were smeared on one of their hideouts with several members beaten to near death and clearly tortured. They were put away for a good amount of time. I don't know their methods but clearly the Pirates are feared enough not to be tested.”

“Good, you're correct.” Seonghwa's praise went straight to your head and you found yourself stepping close to him as he continued. “They launder money and tax heavily for both legal and illegal work in the area. However- they seem to also invest in the community as well.” 

“I noticed that yesterday. Heavy gang areas normally have a hard time thriving. Actually… I noticed a pattern with the gangs in general.”

“Tell us about it.” San hummed out, stepping next to Seonghwa.

Whether they meant to or not, their gentle urging was validating you in a way you realized you needed after what happened with the S.K unit. Back then, you had to do things the proper way, the safe way, and think for the unit. You loved Chan, you loved them all, but the restrictions of the job had left you feeling less.

You relaxed, a smile spreading over your face as you continued your tangent with the slight prompts from them. “The old and new gangs, they're sort of mirrored. The White Guardians focus on control and secrecy, so do the Black Pirates. The Golden Circle prioritize providing pleasure and business, so do the Green Vipers even if they're more violent in their ways. Then there are the Blue Goblins and Red Wolves: both focus more on the illegal trade and business with no care for the consequences or how they treat their people. The parallels actually make it a bit more interesting….”

San chuckled, a twinkle in his eye when you looked up at him, perplexed by his reaction. “Sorry, I'm just impressed. You are quite the detective, discerning all that from the last week of your own research?”

Your face warmed up considerably, huffing in response. “I take my job as a detective very seriously, San.”

“Considering you're insisting on staying here despite the way things started, I believe that.” Seonghwa chimed in, then he did something unexpected: he reached out and rested his hand on top of your head, ruffling it softly. “Good job.”

Your whole body felt warm at the touch, nerves lit and eyes wide as you stared at him.

San whined next to you both, saving you from stuttering out a reply. “Hwa- your mothering is showing.”

Seonghwa's hand dropped at that, smiling sheepishly down at you. “Sorry if that bothered you.”

“No no- it's fine.” You brought your hand up to the.top of your head, looking away as you cleared your throat. “Anyways, back to the original topic- exactly what's the game plan against the Green Vipers? What pieces are in play?” You turned your back to them both, scrutinizing the board as if that would help you focus back on the task at hand.

San cleared his throat and moved back into your peripheral. “You should learn all the players on their side first- then I can explain what we're doing.”

“But all those pieces are right there and you went over it yesterday. Hwon Taejin is a new factor but he's not a current mark is he?”

“No-”

“Then what are our pieces?” You glanced over at San, finally having your bearings about you. You told yourself the praise and attention meant nothing, that you weren't a part of this unit and had no reason to accept it or expect it. You had plenty to prove and truthfully so did they.

San sighed. “Detective Wooyoung is currently acting as a freelancer just like Hwon, employing and renting out bodies and products. Currently we have a contract with the Green Vipers. Aka I'm a fighter in their rings and Wooyoung is my… well he handles the business.”

“I see. So he makes the connections and you're the product he sells to lock those connections in. That's why you were all bloodied up when I met you?”

He nodded, reaching up to touch the cut on his brow. “Yeah, but I won the fights.”

“I'd hate to see the other guys.” You let out a soft laugh, forcing the image of San fighting in a ring out of your head as well as ignoring the contrasting emotions that were brought out because of it.

“All fights are orchestrated by this guy right here-” He pointed to the middle of three pictures: they were the three directly under the head, in charge of different portions of the gang. “We're using him to get closer to the head, but he isn't our only mark. The guy on the right handles their product, Mingi has been handling that.”

“Their product?”

“Recreational drugs but they're usually sold through clubs that require a reputation to get into the back rooms. He's building that.”

You sneered at the reminder of Mingi. “What- as a womanizer?”

“Sort of… they're the ones who have to invite you in. He's also the one scoping out downtown for the clubs run by the Golden Circle and the prostitution rings from the Goblins.”

Your face scrunched with even more disgust. “He needs a condom attached to his dick at this point, that can't be safe.”

San chuckled, shaking his head. “There are a few of us that partake to increase the chances and surveillance. Sometimes it's worth it.”

“The fucks that good?”

“Mm maybe.” He stepped closer, dipping into your field of view with a wide, playful grin. “They probably have nothing on you I bet.” The dark look he fixed you with had heat running down your spine and settling in your core. 

“Maybe you'll have a chance to find out.” You matched his stare, letting your lust for him show from the flutter of your lashes to the way you bit your lip.

The rumble that vibrated his chest sounded like a pleased purr. “I'd like that… sweetcheeks.”

At the use of the nickname, you rolled your eyes and gently pushed at his chest. He grabbed your hand and held it flat against him, stalking forward as your eyes went wide. “San-”

“Yes baby?” His voice dipped as he lowered his head, closing the distance with each step back you took.

“W-we have a job to do don't we?” You looked around for Seonghwa in hopes to ask him for help but the two of you were alone and you were running out of places to run.

“Why not a quick break? You've been so worked up- maybe I can take care of that?” As your legs hit the desk you nearly toppled back, squeaking as San's other hand wrapped around you and supported the small of your back. He pulled you flush against his body as you arched back in an attempt for some distance. “What do you say?”

There was a very large part of you that wanted to say yes and jump his bones right then and there, but a quick glance behind him and you could see the pictures hanging up- the dead body of a boy you had desperately wanted to help before. It snapped you out of the lustful fog you had found yourself in and you pushed away roughly, face and neck hot.

San whined out, letting you put distance between you both. “Was that too much?”

You floundered for the right words, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “I uh…. It's almost alarming how dangerous you lot are.”

“Dangerous? Me? I'm as cute as a kitten.” He batted his eyes at you, demeanor changing.

You rolled your eyes, hand to your chest to ease the mess of emotions there. “Don't you separate work from life?”

He shook his head, watching you move back to the board. “No- it's one and the same. You'll learn that when you get in the field.”

“So you think I will?”

He laughed. “Oh no question about it. Sweetcheeks, I happen to think that you fit in so fucking perfectly here. In fact, you are fucking perfect.”

You rolled your eyes again, glad your back was to him because truthfully his words had you elated.

"oh sweet thing," yeosang rolled his eyes, "you're consistent, if anything, at least."

you snorted, and yeosang's lips quirked into a small smile.

the wine was dark as blood when you wiped a drip of it from your mouth, your fingertips bloodied by it. it was a strongwine, sweet and the smallest bit sour, warming your blood despite the cold stone floors.

you wiped the wine on your robes, but it still stained your fingers. dark red. like blood.

you asked, "when did hongjoong leave?"

you took another swig.

yeosang answered, "yesterday, at daybreak."

"oh," you said, "he left quickly."

yeosang nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line.

you drew your knees close. the wine made your skin warm. it jumbled your words. loosened your mouth. this was a routine between the two of you, though.

"do you think he'll really come back?" your voice crumbled at the last word, like the sugar crumbling off the untouched fried bits of dough laid haphazardly before you.

yeosang never answered these kinds of questions. you'd grown used to it.

yeosang turned, however, to fully face you, his back to the hall.

he said, "i think i shall drink with you today, sweet thing."

you'd blinked in surprise, drawn out from the heaviness in your chest. "really?"

yeosang's lion-like eyes curled into something softer, kind almost. perhaps, it was pity, but the wine made it into something else. he nodded, "really."

you watched as drank from your flagon, throwing his head back to empty it. dark blood red dripped down the corners of his mouth. he wiped it away with the back of his hand, his armor clinking loudly.

you frowned when he grinned at you, his grin too wide. you said, "did you have to down the whole thing?"

yeosang scowled, "i am the one risking my honor for this. i deserve more than a sip."

"you truly want me to believe you have honor, ser yeosang?"

"fine, i won't argue with that," yeosang snorted. "however i did risk quite a lot sneaking this up here."

"surely the great ser yeosang can sneak past a handful of servants? besides i'm sure the rats far outnumber the people after everyone fled. who would you have to sneak past?"

yeosang paused, raising a brow. he tilted his head in that curious way of his, "what makes you think everyone fled?"

"my windows overlook the main entrance," you reminded him, nodding to the barred windows.

yeosang's brows furrowed. all he said was, "the king is still here, your grace."

"ah yes, the mad king." you'd scoffed, rolling your eyes. you leaned back onto the heels of your hands, appraising yeosang's guarded posture as you frowned, "no one else is here but him, i assume."

"it is true, some of the nobles have joined the rebellion. others have left king's landing," yeosang gulped down a much smaller mouthful of wine, his brows furrowed, "but the kingsguard remain."

"only because they are obliged to." you mumbled, "frankly, i am surprised the prince did not take you with him."

"the king would not allow it," yeosang said. his lips turned down into a small frown.

you mulled over his words, "because the king does not wish to provide lord kang an opportunity for his heir to return to him?"

it was a question you already knew the answer to.

yeosang's snicker was unamused, "the king thinks very highly of me, it seems."

"a sure sign he's succumbed fully to his madness."

yeosang let out a soft laugh. you'd heard it only a few times during your stay in king's landing. it was soft, surprised even, a guffaw more than anything. you could not help but smile.

after a beat, yeosang said, "mingi is here, too."

for a moment, your heart ached for them. ever since you stepped into the red keep, you saw a companionship between hongjoong, yeosang, and mingi that you'd often been envious of. you were always an outsider looking in. and when san and jongho visited, it was as if you were pushed further into the peripheral. even when san courted you, you remained watching, observing. jongho and hongjoong would exchange silent grins over san's head during lunches. hongjoong would pat san on the back and pull him into a long hug every time he greeted san when he returned to the red keep. even during the time when hongjoong ignored you and made sly digs towards san, there was still an air of camaraderie there. hongjoong laughing with yeosang and mingi during your studies. how highly mingi spoke of hongjoong. how yeosang spoke of hongjoong. it was as though despite the flaws and horrible bits, hongjoong was still theirs to love. and that was what it was, was it not? love. you saw it clear as day, when hongjoong confronted you for using mingi. he loved them in a way he never loved you, in a way you'd never love him, in a way you had not had the chance to love your brothers. and they loved him the same way. they were boys together.

but now hongjoong had gone to the north, and yeosang and mingi were left behind in this cage, and jongho and san were leading a rebellion headed your way, to oust hongjoong and his father from the throne. they were no longer boys.

your heart tore at the thought. somehow, this all affected you too, despite how avidly outside of them you were. you were always an outsider looking in, but, still, you were a kid with them, too, for a bit.

"what went wrong?"

"the mad king was always on thin ice, but...i believe everyone hoped hongjoong could be different. had it been a different lord that night," yeosang's hum was thoughtful, "that trust in hongjoong could have survived the mad king's reign. unfortunately, lord lim was the first nail in his coffin, and seonghwa is his last."

the memory of lord lim tied to a post, going up in flames, returned to you, clear as day. you'd never forget it. not his cries, nor the way hongjoong whispered dracarys, nor the fact that you did not stop him. he'd called you horrible names, upset because the mad king beheaded his nephew. the lims, you remembered, were one of many houses that had gathered with jongho during his brothel visits, according to lady irene. now you knew why he'd gathered in the brothels. you'd been so engrossed in your own sole position in this game of thrones, in communicating with your brothers and merely establishing ways to get information, that you had not even thought to use that information for your own well-being. perhaps, if you did, you would not have been left here to die.

"lord lim? why lord lim?" you asked.

yeosang laughed, but there was no amusement there, "jongho and san regard lord lim as something of a second father. they grew up in the riverlands, right alongside seonghwa."

"oh."

you'd stood alongside hongjoong as he coaxed his dragon to burn lord lim at the stake. i shall join you, you said. hongjoong had looked back at you, and you had felt glee when hongjoong had whispered to his dragon to breathe fire. you were complicit, not only by marriage but by actions. hongjoong knew this. he knew, yet he left you behind.

and seonghwa?

yeosang's jaw tightened when you met his gaze once more. his pretty face twisted with scorn. he said, "jongho adores seonghwa. they say hongjoong stole him from winterfell. plucked him from the castle on dragonback. we always teased jongho that he would have started a war for seonghwa."

yeosang's shoulders rose and fell in a silent chuckle.

you thought of seonghwa, of what you'd said to him. you were complicit there too. lord lim and seonghwa. both nails in hongjoong's coffin.

"do you believe what they say?"

yeosang shrugged, "seonghwa always did what he pleased. i don't know what to believe. it is merely speculation."

you let his words sink in as you took another sip of wine. yeosang's cheeks were flushed pink with alcohol, and you felt your stomach churn at finally receiving the information you'd been long wishing for. perhaps, rotting away in these chambers without knowing what was happening beyond the red keep was a good thing, because now all you could do was try to reconcile the fact that you were in fact left for dead here. perhaps this was punishment for standing with hongjoong, for using mingi the way you had, for allowing the jealous beast inside you to lash out at park seonghwa. for daring to play the game of thrones.

you looked up at yeosang, his brown eyes meeting yours, lingering. you held the flagon at eye level. yeosang reached for it without hesitation. you watched as he took several gulps of wine, blood red droplets staining his lips.

the strongwine clouded your head, and loosened your tongue, and perhaps if you were in different circumstances, you would have found your ease around kang yeosang embarrassing.

yeosang loosened the ties to his armor, placing it next to his helmet, his white cotton tunic crisp even in the dim lighting.

yeosang must have had the same thought as you - his eyes met yours, and there was a moment of sheepishness there you'd never seen from him before. you shook your head, tone conspiring, "i won't tell. who is there for me to tell anyway?"

yeosang snickered, an ugly snort of a thing that echoed through the empty hall, through your chambers. you only took a drink from the flagon between you both.

the silence between you was melancholic. yeosang leaned back against the door hinge, studying you. under his scrutiny, you lifted your chin. you never did like feeling small, studied, around kang yeosang.

perhaps the wine made you bold, or perhaps it was the loneliness. you leaned in, and you said, "what are you thinking?"

yeosang shrugged, his eyes flickered between yours. after a beat of silence, he said, "in another life, we would have wedded."

he was an option of the queen's, long long ago. it was quite a thought. your cheeks burned from the wine. "a terrible life to live, i think."

"yes," yeosang smiled, and it was a soft thing. sincere, even. his voice was softer. "i think so, too."

something churned at the pit of your stomach when yeosang did not lean away or avert his gaze. you thought him quite pretty like this, messy hair and cotton tunic and flushed cheeks and wine-stained lips and glassy eyes.

he reached out then, and it was not a hesitant touch, as you were so used to. his thumb brushed along your cheek, and even that single touch stirred the restless fire in your heart. yeosang's eyes remained fixed on your face, as if he were studying your reactions. he breathed, "what kind of life would you have liked to live then?"

"the kind where i feel loved without having to beg for it," you admitted.

yeosang's brows furrowed, and you'd blinked when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth. he was warm and tasted of honeyed strongwine, and you returned his kiss only to feel something other than the overwhelming weight of your worries. it was all teeth and wine and imperfection, off kilter and a blur as you curled your fingers in his soft hair and he tugged you closer, his calloused fingers digging into your skin. the wine spilled between you, but neither of you cared to pull away. you only laughed as he pulled you closer in a poor attempt to avoid the spill. your skin tingled where he touched you, leaving a trail of goosebumps. you were starved of touch and warmth, and he seemed the same way, and you knew you should have pushed him away, but you'd long abandoned such things. you felt the rush of fire, and you remembered your age again.

you pushed him back only to drag your fingers down the front of his crisp white tunic. he made noises as pretty as you pressed another kiss to his lips, as his fingers fumbled with the ties of your tunic and found warm skin. you were something-and-twenty again, on the verge of counting the many moons you've missed, and this was not a battle between the two of you, neither was it a game, it was merely the two of you moving imperfectly, nails digging into skin, kisses wherever either could reach. it was merely feeling wanted without having to ask or worry.

at least until your arm knocked against his helmet. you yelped against his mouth, surprised more than in pain. the resulting clang was deafening, too loud, bouncing off the stone walls. you'd blinked when yeosang jumped, sitting back, pushing you away, his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed as red as his lips. your heart stilled as his gaze tore from you to his discarded armor. clarity washed over you like a cold bath.

you fell back onto your palms, your breath as heavy as his, and you watched yeosang close his eyes. his throat bobbed as he swallowed. his tunic had slipped from his shoulders, his hair a mess, and his skin blotchy and red. you were sure you looked the same.

your heart continued to pound in your chest as yeosang dragged his hands through his messy blonde hair and finally, finally, opened his eyes.

slowly, he murmured, voice rough, tone regretful, "i took an oath to never lay with another. i am no oathbreaker."

you let out a breathless laugh, "you strike me as the type to break oaths and laugh, yeosang."

yeosang sighed, shaking his head.

you dragged your hands through your hair, too, straightening up as you took in the mess you both made, the spilled wine and your disheveled appearances and the lingering tension settling over both your shoulders, a sharp dissonance in the camaraderie you'd managed to salvage in all this.

"we've made quite a mess." yeosang whispered.

it was supposed to be a serious thing, buthe sounded exasperated, annoyed, and you laughed at the absurdity of it all.

after a beat, he burst into laughter, a musical sound that cleared the tension swiftly. never did you think you'd find any kind of solace in kang yeosang's company, no matter how brief, yet here you were.

~.~.~.~.~

"did you have any dreams? aside from being a knight?" you asked yeosang. you laid sprawled on your back, peering up at yeosang as he stood guard outside your door. the ale was empty and you should have been asleep. he'd dragged you from the door to your bed and helped you lie down, but you were now laying with your head hanging from the side, peering at an upside down yeosang who only rolled his eyes at your question.

yeosang leaned against the door to your chambers, body half-in and half-out.

you flipped onto your stomach on the bed, and you drawled, drunker than you'd wanted to be, "indulge me, ser yeosang."

yeosang laughed, a tinkle of a thing. he said, "i've always dreamt of being a knight."

"oh?" you'd snorted, gesturing around you, "is it everything you'd imagined it'd be?"

"of course," yeosang nodded, "terribly annoying royalty and all."

you rested your head on your palm as you looked at yeosang. you said, "my dream was to be kind. i'd told my brothers a long time ago."

yeosang turned to look at you, his brows furrowed.

"what?"

he said, "you never talk about your brothers."

you shrugged, "it is easier not to."

"i dreamt of being a chivalrous knight," yeosang said after a beat, "the kind from the stories who protects innocents."

"really?"

"it was a childish dream," yeosang muttered, turning away to peer down the empty hallway.

"i think it's a nice dream. you're already quite close to achieving it."

you could see the corners of yeosang's mouth lift into a smile. he did not look at you as he said, "yours is, too. you're quite kind, sweet thing."

your cheeks felt hot, but you shook your head, "i am not."

"you are," yeosang met your gaze once more, his expression reassuring. "you try to be, at least, and that's all that matters."

~.~.~.~.~

you were something-and-twenty when king's landing's sun was bright and lively, the air clean, and the sunlight through the barred window warm against your skin. it reminded you of sunspear.

neither you nor yeosang spoke of the kiss since that night. you'd both returned to the usual routine - yeosang brought you snacks and drinks when he was assigned outside your chambers, and you sat at the door, and you both talked. he was the company you craved all this time. you did not love him, but you liked his company, and you hated that you'd only had the chance to figure it out now.

the only difference, you noticed, was that yeosang would sometimes recount stories of his time at casterly rock - his brother and sister he seemed to adore, his mother who had passed giving birth to his younger brother, the mischief he used to get up to with san in the gardens. they were brief moments told here and there, when the orange he brought was too tart or when the feeling of knowing you were doomed caught up to you and you did not want to speak to him, or when you asked him a question that he truly did not seem to have the answer to. you hadn't been able to piece together much of yeosang's past, but he gave you enough to know it was his strange way of reconciling with you - perhaps it was an apology for the other night.

he certainly never brought strongwine to your door anymore.

you sat on the floor beneath the warm sun streaming through your barred windows.

someone knocked on the door. you called for them to enter.

yeosang stood at the threshold of your chambers, his helmet on and his stance rigid.

something was wrong. you could sense it his stance, his quiet, the way his helmet obscured his face. he did not lean against the door as he sometimes would, or remove his armor and let himself relax.

"is everything all right?" you asked.

there was a long pause. even the warm sun felt wrong on your skin.

yeosang shifted from foot to foot, his armor clinking softly. he said, "the kitchens have ran out of your favorites."

you'd blinked at him, "it's okay. i don't mind."

yeosang nodded, the movement brisk. "i'll be outside then."

he shut the door quietly behind him, and you thought perhaps the doom of being left behind in this gilded cage had caught up to him finally as well. you let him be that day.

~.~.~.~.~

the servants did not come with dinner, as they always did right after the sun set.

you stared at the door, the hairs at the back of your neck standing on end.

yeosang should have been outside, yet you could not find it in yourself to open the door or call from him.

one moment everything was silent, soft quiet. the next, you heard shouting. screaming.

you froze. you were never quick to react like yeosang or mingi or wooyoung. you were never good with a sword.

there was a bang at your door. it was jarring, the sudden bang after so many moons of eerie quiet. something slammed hard against the door. dust sprung to the air as whatever slammed against your door rattled the walls of your chambers. hongjoong's trinkets and books fell from their shelves.

you found your body moving on its own, scrambling for the only thing in reach - the fire iron from the unused fireplace. it was not hot but it was heavy.

"yeosang?" you called, your voice catching in your throat enough to make your voice waver. "yeosang, what is going on?"

another bang, louder this time, so loud the vase of flowers hongjoong's mother had sent you after your wedding crashed to the ground. it shattered. dried, long-dead flowers scattered across the floor. he never allowed the servants to take the dead flowers, and now they spilled across the stone floor. your heart leapt against your ribs. you brandished the fire iron, but your hands shook. you readjusted the iron in your hands, over and over.

another slam.

then the door burst open, the heavy door knocking against the wall with a resounding crash. books and vases and pots and trinkets plummeted to the floor, heavy thuds and ceramics shattering one by one filling the room. each thud, each shatter, made your heart slam louder and louder against your ribs.

dust scattered all around. a large figure loomed at the threshold to your chambers, the person's shadow blocking the only way out. you'd blinked. it was not yeosang. you did not recognize them.

before you could ask, or steady yourself, or even catch your bearings for even a moment, the figure lumbered into the room, his sword taller than you, and it was the mountain, you realized. his boots thumped against the stone floor. thud, thud, thud. your blood ran cold with the way he moved towards you, his boots crunching as he stepped in broken ceramics and did not seem to care one bit, his focus fixed on you. lady irene and yeosang had given you cryptic warnings of the mountain. you'd only known him as lord kang's man, and as one of the kingsguard, but now...now he appeared a beast with eyes as black as night and a heavy frame and a sort of saunter that nearly stopped your heart.

you were only four-and-ten when you faced a dragon, you were twenty when you faced the king of dragons, when you married his son and faced him too, but here you stood facing a dangerous man called the mountain, who brandished a claymore that stood taller than you with nothing but an iron fire poker to defend yourself.

the mountain was a part of the kingsguard, but you were not the king, so did that truly matter?

"lord kang sends his regards, your highness," the mountain's voice was gruff as he stalked closer, his dark eyes piercing as he sized you up as a predator sizes up prey. the queen's vase crunches under his heavy boots. "he assures you he means you no ill will, but you are in the way and that will not do."

you've faced dragons and dragon kings and dragon princes, a mountain was nothing to be afraid of. yet here you stood, without an hint of sunspear left in you, shaking in your boots as the man loomed closer, his predatory gaze promising something worse than death even. you wanted nothing more than for everything to be over mere hours ago, but now you stood and you wanted to fight. you hadn't been able to do either.

you needed to fight back. the smallest voice at the back of your head, that sounded awfully like wooyoung and yunho, shouted at you to fight back. you needed to -

the mountain smacked you so hard across the face, you fell into the wall, stumbling onto the floor. you saw stars, more than you ever had in king's landing. your grip on the fire iron remained tight, but it felt useless under the strength of such a beast of a man.

fight back. your brothers would not here of you dying so easily.

you pushed yourself up to your knees, using the fire poker for support. your vision still swam. the mountain's eyes sparked with a sort of primal joy as he peered down at you, and your heart twisted and your stomach churned at the chill that ran down your spine. he reached down, bending at the waist, to grip your face between his fingers.

he opened his mouth to say something, but you spit blood in his face. he flinched back and you swung your fire iron at him. it slashed at the skin of his exposed ankles. he roared, his hand falling from your face. you nearly slammed face first into the cement floor. his roar made your blood run cold, but you scrambled to your feet. you needed to get away from him, you knew. searing pain shot up your skull as you were yanked back by the hair. he dragged you back, tearing hair from your scalp, and you knew not where he was taking you or what your fate would be now, but you knew that this would not end well. you knew it from the moment you saw joy in his eyes after he hit you. the mountain was a beast and you would not die by his hands. you swung your fists, clawed at skin at his face, anything you could put your hands on. he dragged you onto your bed and you kicked at him, your vision still swimming. only later did you learn you were screaming yourself hoarse, and your vision was swimming because of tears.

there was a shout, then, a deep cry that did not come from you or the mountain. the grip on your hair slackened and you fell forward into the ground, the air leaving your lungs too quickly. you gasped for air, until someone grabbed you by the elbows and hauled you to your feet.

you shoved at the touch, slamming your fists against a solid body, until a deep voice gasped, "it is me, y/n. it is mingi."

and you blinked in surprise, withdrawing your hands, even as you allowed him to drag you out your chambers. there was screaming behind you. your ears were ringing. you did not dare to look back, allowing him to lead the way. you both ran, your head still throbbing and your vision still swimming and fingers curled right around mingi's. the two of you ran and ran and ran until he was pushing you through the tapestries and into a tight corridor, and you two were scurrying down a set of steep stairs in darkness, until -

you came to halt at the foot of the stairs. you knew this door. you took this passage out of the red keep on too many occassions.

you looked over at mingi, but you could not see him well in the darkness of the corridor.

"the mountain," your voice was hoarse, too quiet, "did you kill him?"

mingi said, "only stunned him for a moment. if he traces our steps..."

mingi did not wait for an answer from you. he merely pushed past you, avoiding physical contact with you, and peeked through a crack in the doorway before opening it for you. you exited out into the familiar cobblestone street first, the narrow alleyway the same as it always had been. king's landing, however, was quiet. you had no idea what the king had demanded of the commonfolk while you were locked away in your chambers.

you could see mingi's face in the dim candlelight lanterns hanging from the alleyway walls. his expression was grim, a large cut dragging from under his left eye to the bottom of his chin. his lip was swollen, and he had a slight limp. if it were any other time, the two of you would have stuck out sorely in the streets of king's landing, but all was quiet as war loomed on the horizon. perhaps, with the mountain's message from lord kang, the war had already arrived. perhaps it would be over in the morning.

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, to mingi. last you saw him, hongjoong had been involved. but mingi only held up a black cloak to you. you had not seen where he got it from. you pulled it tight around you, pulling the hood over your stinging face. mingi wore a similar black cloak over plainclothes.

without a word, he took your hand, and he pulled you through cobblestone streets. the cobblestone streets were dry from the heat of the sun you'd felt through your bars, but the streets were eerily quiet. windows were boarded shut, and the world was too quiet.

mingi slinked quickly through the streets, you hurrying to keep up with him. the two of you avoided any main streets, using the alleyways to navigate through king's landing. the port was up ahead, you knew, and the smell of sea breeze reminded you terribly of your family. if lord kang sent someone to kill you, then what of your family? what has happened to the king? to...to...

"wait here," mingi murmured, and you watched as he made his way onto the port, closest to the entrance.

there, mingi spoke quietly with a man who had appeared to have been waiting for him. they clasped hands and mingi tilted his head, leaning down to speak to the man. you looked back over your shoulder, to the red keep looming above the city. it seemed peaceful from down below. quiet. especially so early in the morning. you jumped when you turned away and mingi was back at your side. mingi held out a hand.

he said, "we have to go. now."

your face hurt, and your mouth throbbed, and you knew there was no other option for you. so, you took mingi's hand, and let him guide you onto port. a small cargo boat with neutral sails was docked in the corner. mingi held a hand out to help you onto the boat before he readied the boat to set sail.

mingi worked quietly and quickly, his hood slipping from his head. you watched as he kept his eyes on the task at hand, a perpetual furrow curling through his brow.

the man at port had long disappeared. as the boat started sailing through the bay, towards the narrow sea, sails fluttering gently in the breeze, bells rang from the red keep, over and over and over again. mingi sat at one end of the boat, and you fidgeted in your seat at the other, and you could not ignore the supplies packed and ready at your feet.

the red keep was a dot on the horizon when you could finally allow yourself to relax a little bit.

"where are we going?" you asked. your voice was rough.

mingi said, "anywhere but here."

~.~.~.~.~

"where was yeosang?" mingi asked, after a few hours of sailing in silence. it was the first question he'd asked. perhaps he had been waiting for you to ask something. you had not known where to start.

"i don't know."

"you were his post that night, and i - i had this feeling, so i went to check on him and instead i found the mountain dragging you to... " mingi cleared his throat, frowning, "i've had this boat on standby for yeosang and me just in case we needed it. i hoped to never use it."

"why would either of you need it? i thought you took an oath to the king."

"it was something we both decided to invest in long before we joined the kingsguard," mingi said, his tone flat.

"so all that time," you stared at him, and irritation bubbled through the shock and exhaustion that had encompassed you since you set sail, "all that time you tried to convince me hongjoong was a good person while you both had an escape plan?"

you watched mingi struggled with his next words. finally, he said, "it wasn't just for me and yeosang, y/n. it was for hongjoong too."

your chest tightened.

mingi shook his head, "it was just something stupid we'd promised as children. none of us had the heart to end the arrangement."

even now, your heart ached. despite everything.

"'lord kang sends his regards.'" you repeated, changing the subject quickly, "that is what the mountain said before he...before he tried to kill me."

mingi looked troubled, his gaze fixed upon the horizon behind you.

you said, "do you think lord kang will send him after me?"

there was a beat of silence before mingi finally said, "i don't know. i pray to the gods he does not. no one has ever beat the mountain. we're lucky we got out alive."

you sighed, taking in the predicament you were in.

the boat had enough provisions to make it across the narrow sea. dorne was across the narrow sea, to the south, and to the west of the narrow sea lay essos and the free cities. those were two very clear options. despite the longing you had to return to dorne, there was doubt now. you barely recognized yourself as dornish, what if no one else acknowledged you either?

mingi asked, breaking you away from your thoughts, "so where do we go?"

"we?" you frowned, "you want to come with me?"

you thought he'd leave you somewhere and go off on his own. you certainly deserved it.

for the first time in a long while, mingi met your gaze with a steady firmness and slightly flushed cheeks you'd missed. he said, "i will remain by your side, y/n, until you are safe."

"until we are safe," you corrected him.

mingi smile was wide and gummy, and you found yourself smiling back.

~.~.~.~.~

a day into your voyage, you and mingi get caught in a storm. for an entire night, you're rocked back and forth, waves crashing over the boat and onto the deck. you both try to pull the sails in, to keep the boat as steady as possible, but the gods have plans of their own.

when the storm clears, you are both by a shore neither of you can match to the map. there's a small port and when you dock - after an argument that ends abruptly when you both realize that the water in the boat was only rising higher - you discover a small fishing village. there are all kinds of people in the village, people of differing skin colors and eye colors and heights and hair colors and hair textures, and you believed the gods have decided the two of you would find yourselves stranded somewhere in essos.

perhaps you would never be able to step foot in dorne again.

"how long does it take to repair a boat?" mingi asked as he dragged a hand through his hair.

apparently, many many moons when neither of had a single piece of gold to your name or any idea how to speak the local language.

~.~.~.~.~

mingi found a job as a farmhand. you did the village's laundry. the locals seemed to take pity on you two, washed ashore with nothing to your name, so they agreed to any work requests either of you put in. when mingi found an abandoned stone castle, if one could call such a small building that, up atop a hill overlooking the narrow sea, the villagers seemed to look upon you both with even more pity. they avoided the hill, shaking their heads as they besmirched the place. you did not fully understand their words, but you knew they hated it for a reason.

"perhaps it's haunted," you said to mingi one day, as you two made your beds on opposite sides of the stone room. the straw bedding was warm, and you'd gone too many days without warm bedding. to think such a small thing would be a luxury now.

mingi grimaced, "why say that right before bed?"

you laughed, pulling the thin blanket over you - the bed was so much smaller than the one in the red keep, yet you found it easier to sleep in this one. you snorted while mingi grumbled to himself about spirits in the dark.

for once, you found a similar comfort as you once had before king's landing.

a troubadour wandered into the village shortly after you both settled into your new home, singing of great tales from both faraway lands beyond the sea and close cities such as pentos. the village folk clapped and sang along, and you and mingi found a spot at the back, sitting side-by-side, but never touching.

it was quite a sight, enjoyable even. you'd laughed for the first time in a while. at least until the troubadour sang of the sacking of king's landing.

it was a dramatic song. the villagers held their breath. so did you.

king kim was killed by a member of his own kingsguard, the bard sang as he gulped down ale. an oathbreaker and a kingslayer.

kingslayer, the woman who sold you vegetable seeds gasped. the word echoed through the crowd. oathbreaker, kingslayer, oathbreaker.

they found him sitting on the iron throne, the king's body laid at his feet. throat slashed! he called, his hushed words echoing all around in the silence. it fell heavy on your shoulders. even the birds seemed to repeat it into the distance as they cawed. the man called, oathbreaker and kingslayer kang yeosang. the king is dead, the prince's spouse is dead. they are all dead!

dead, dead, dead.

the crowd jeered at the man dressed in fake kingsguard outfit, wooden sword in hand, a caricature of kang yeosang. your chest felt tight.

the troubadour sang more of jongho's rebellion, but you did not care for the reactions of those around you. you only looked to mingi. he stared at the performers, stunned. perhaps mingi had not known of yeosang's plans. the shock was too genuine. that was a relief at least. manipulation thrived in everyone around you, except for mingi. you had to believe that.

you tapped his knee. mingi's head whipped to meet your gaze. you gestured towards the hill, and he nodded before you could open your mouth. his tense shoulders remained, but relief flooded his expression. he hurried to his feet, turning away first, and perhaps as you watched mingi hurry away, you'd stood frozen for just a moment longer to hear of his fate. perhaps, the troubadour continued on and on about jongho's rebellion, about san's attack on dragonstone - where you knew the queen was sent away, about everything but him.

you shook your head, following behind mingi. you did not bother to keep up with his pace, merely watching his tense shoulders and curled fists as rocks skittered down the pathway as he walked.

it took until you were nearing your little hill house, the sea twinkling softly under moonlight beneath you, the villager's drunken giggles and cries a distant whisper, the night breeze a soft touch against your skin, to gather the courage to break the silence that had befallen you two.

"mingi," you called after him.

mingi ignored you. the crunching of his feet against rocks and dirt was your only answer.

you sighed, picking up speed. as the hill leveled out at the top, so did mingi's pace.

"mingi." you called once more.

mingi spun on his heels, rocks dislodging from beneath his feet. awash in moonlight, he seemed younger somehow, yet more exhausted than he had ever been before. the shadows draped over his sharp features. his mouth quivered and his chin dipped, yet his eyes remained steady. the scar that dripped down from his eye to his chin glowed under the moonlight.

he used to look at you like you hung the stars, like you were the sun waking from the horizon every morning, like you were above him.

now he saw you as you were. the thought terrified you. you were nothing good, certainly not to him. he saw all of it, all of you.

mingi dragged both his hands through his hair. it was overgrown now. he usually tied it back when he went to work.

he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a staggered breath.

you stepped closer. he did not back away, at least.

"i am sorry," you said. you did not know what else to say.

mingi blinked, as if you'd hit him. "you...this is not..."

a pause, before mingi whispered, his deep voice cracked around the edges, "yeosang told me nothing, you know that? that's the worst part. he never confided in me. i told him everything, my woes and my successes. everything. but he...he kept everything to himself."

mingi's deep voice shattered then. he tugged at his hair, his eyes shining with tears. you pressed hesitant hands to his shaking palms.

you said, "it is not your fault. he decided to do that on his own."

"i could have stopped him."

"no, you could not have," you shook your head, clutching his trembling hands close.

"i could have tried," mingi whispered, each syllable a knife to your chest.

mingi sunk to the ground then, and you went with him. he pressed your intertwined hands to his face, and you watched him sob, his shoulders hunched over and his sobs wracked his whole body. to see such a pillar of strength reduced to this - you always knew what the people around you were like, you'd always been given warnings since the beginning, but mingi grew up in the red keep. he only believed in the good. he had no reason to see their true colors this way.

you could only think that he truly was better than the rest of you. you could only agree that he did not deserve this.

yet here he was. his whole world was crumbling and the only thing you could do was hold his hand through it.

~.~.~.~.~

lord kang pronounced you dead, but you knew he knew you were not. the mountain had to have reported you'd escaped. so why he would leave a loose thread like you unattended to was beyond you.

you knew if your brother believed the kangs had killed you, then your brothers would rather rot than join jongho's rebellion. where that left hongjoong, you had no idea. last you heard, he'd kidnapped park seonghwa, triggering jongho's rebellion, san was sent to take dragonstone in jongho's name, likely meant to kill the queen in the process if she was even alive, and you remained in a remote village off the coast of the narrow sea. perhaps lord kang hoped that the prince leaving you behind to die as collateral damage to run away with park seonghwa would spur your brothers to fight alongside jongho. it was hongjoong's duty to keep you safe, of course, and he failed miserably. yunho and wooyoung would have hongjoong's head for that very reason. the troubadours and rumors only ever mentioned dorne as a footnote, so you had no idea how your brothers were faring.

you wished to live in peace; you were even resigned to it. spending the rest of your life farming and doing laundry and trying to make it up to mingi for manipulating his feelings at king's landing did not seem like the worst of fates. even mingi seemed happy with his share, as kind as he was, his smiles seemed genuine. he did not seem to miss his father or the kingsguard or the red keep. at least he did not make it known to you if he did.

mingi did not look at you as he used to, with stars in his eyes, but you still caught him staring sometimes. he did not touch you often, even when he had to move around you in your narrow living space. you appreciated it. you did not think you could love him the way he wanted you too. maybe he could not either.

you tried to live in peace, but the troubadours came to sing often, and rumors spread quickly, and you were kept aware of current events even if you did not want to be. westeros was right across the narrow sea, of course. you would not be able to escape it. dorne was across the narrow sea as well, calling to you. you thought of your brothers, left to mourn your father, to then mourn you, and you missed them so. but you'd grown used to missing them. was it worth it to emerge from the dead in the midst of this war?

~.~.~.~.~

you were five-and-twenty on a windy, cloudy day. a storm was brewing, and when you looked over the hill, you could barely see the village down below. fog obscured the village homes. even the tavern's bright red roof was barely visible. the sea was tumultuous below. waves crashed against the cliffs and beach below. usually children would be playing in the sand, but it was empty. you hurried to bring the laundry in, wind whipping your hair in your face.

a shadow befell your home and your yard. a chill ran down your spine as you looked up. you had not seen his dragon in many many name-days, but you recognized it right away. above the clouds was a large creature of shining black scales. if it were sunny, the dragon's scales would have reflected back the colors of the rainbow, catching the attention of everyone around you. but it was dark and gloomy and thunder boomed, shaking you to your core, and no one would know that the prince of westeros was descending upon you on dragonback.

wind whipped at your face as you craned your neck to watch the dragon circle your home. it wove in and out between stormy grey clouds. the laundry basket tumbled from your hands. the wind screamed. the laundry lines shook. your world felt fragile once more, despite the fact that you were no longer trapped behind gilded barred windows.

then he descended upon you.

your heart lodged in your throat as the shadow got bigger and bigger, as wind rushed all around you. your clothes flew, your hair whipped at your skin, your lips became dry, your eyes watered, but you did not avert your gaze as the beast landed upon a rock, wings flapping one last gust wind before the dragon bowed its head. the ground shook as it landed. it sounded like thunder.

his blonde hair gleamed, strands of silver-white falling into his eyes despite the way he's restrained his hair into a severe bun at the top of his head. he remained seated on the back of his dragon, murmuring to the creature in the old language. you only picked up bits and pieces of his words, all incomprehensible to you, the rest drowned out by another heavy blast of thunder. a puckered red scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear, a festering wound that gave him a perpetual half-smile. despite all of it, he was still beautiful. kim beauty never diminished; even the severity of his angles, of his tight bun and his scar, gave him an inhuman beauty that would leave anyone breathless. it was a predatory beauty, you knew, meant to draw you in as predator does with its prey, yet you could not avert your gaze.

your heart stilled as he slid off his dragon's back, his white shirt billowing in the wind, his hand rested on his dragon's head and he murmured something to his dragon. it bowed its head, snarling under its breath, its large eyes unblinking. his movements were languid, impudent as always. your heartbeat stilled when he finally looked up and his scrutinizing gaze locked with yours. droplets of rain began to fall upon you both, a shiver running down your spine.

in that moment, you were four-and-ten again and facing a dragon in the dragonpit. the burn on your arm itched under his heavy gaze.

his dark eyes still danced; a familiar wild fire that consumed everything it touched. your stomach was in knots.

"did you think i would not find you?" hongjoong's voice carried over the wind, echoing as the voice of the gods were said to. "that you could leave so easily?"

you were seven-and-ten again, surrounded by grown men who did nothing to keep you safe and a mad king who threatened you for your father's perceived failings.

"you left me, hongjoong," anger filled your chest. "you promised to stay by my side and keep me safe, but then you left to be by seonghwa's side. you left me, and they tried to kill me."

your scream joined the gusts of wind.

hongjoong stepped closer and closer and you could only watch. his eyes flickered over your face. he said, "seonghwa was never meant to remain by my side. you are."

you blinked, "what did you do to him?"

once, a long, long time ago, you had felt fear for park seonghwa, as you did for yourself.

hongjoong shrugged, waved a hand nonchalantly. "i left him somewhere safe."

you were twenty again, and terrified of the man before you and what would become of you. he left seonghwa too. he tames pretty things and then he leaves them caged away to wither or to die or to have their cages broken into by someone else.

hongjoong reached up then, and you'd only then realized he was close enough to touch you. and touch you, he did.

his fingertips fluttered over your cheek, following the line of your jaw. your heart skipped a beat. you said, "why are you here?"

"i shall return to king's landing and take back the throne from those...those traitors," his eyes narrowed.

"those traitors were once your brothers," you said. hongjoong's thumb brushed along your skin, to the edge of your lip, and it lingered there. his eyes flickered over your face, as if he were committing your face to memory.

"we are no longer kids, y/n." he murmured, "i don't need them."

but his voice cracked at the last word, and the fire in his eyes dimmed.

he said, "but i need you."

you were something-and-twenty again, and you might have loved him.

"i don't need you," you said, pushing his hand from your face. the rain grew heavier, colder.

"i loved you, y/n."

he'd never said it before.

your fingers trembled, even as you observed hongjoong for a long moment. his blonde hair stuck to his face, and his scars were bright against his skin. his eyes were wild, desperate almost. he'd lost everything, and only then did he return to find you. only then.

you shook your head, "no, you didn't."

he only ever wanted you to rely on him. to need you, to control you. perhaps he loved you once, in his own way, but it was not the kind of love you'd ever needed or wanted or could accept.

hongjoong's jaw clenched. he looked up at the clouds, and rain dripped down his face. a softer part of you might have imagined that he shed tears then. but it was just the rain.

"i tried to," hongjoong said.

then he grabbed you by the jaw, his grip rough, painful. you gasped as he lifted you from your feet, as his grip tightened and you could not breathe.

his eyes were black with wild fire and indifference and something else, and you struggled in his grip. you thought then, that you could just give up, let him win, let him take the strength of the sun from you as he meant to when you were four-and-ten and you first spoke out of turn to him.

or you could fight back.

you could let the rage that had filled you since you stepped onto the shores of king's landing fill you to the brim. the rage you felt when you were four-and-ten, and seven-and-ten, and twenty, and something-and twenty. the years only added fuel to a monster in your stomach that was crying to escape a long, long time ago. you were four-and-ten again, not scared of death, and full of rage.

you kicked him, and his grip loosened as he let out a gasp of pain. his grip loosened enough for you to be able to bite the hand gripping your face. he shouted. the shout was drowned out by the wind. you reached inside your boot, pulling a dagger one of the village women had given you ("just in case," she whispered as she slipped it into your pocket) from its depths. you held it in front of you. your hands did not shake. you'd beat him once during sword training. you could do it again.

hongjoong gripped his bleeding hand as he stared at the knife in your hand. his gaze flickered from the knife to your face, back and forth, back and forth.

you said, "you never once thought of anyone but yourself, hongjoong, and now you're alone. no one wants you, and everyone wants to kill you, and it was all because of you. this is all your own undoing."

rage descended upon hongjoong like a wave crashing upon the shore. he lunged at you. you slashed at his lunging hand. you missed. he tackled you. you both tumbled into the ground. rocks dug into your skin. you scratched at him with your nails. he scratched you right back. your grip remained tight on the knife.

he trapped you beneath him, locking both your hands above your head with his

hongjoong's blond hair fell from his bun, tickling your face as he bent over you. his blood smeared your face, your skin.

he bit out, "say it again. i dare you."

"you are your own undoing," you spat.

he reached for the knife in your hand. you bucked. you flipped the two of you over. you landed on top of him, the knife pressed to his throat, one of his hands pressed underneath him, your knee on top of the other.

his eyes were black with rage. he said, "do it."

you hesitated. still, despite everything, you hesitated.

hongjoong laughed. he threw his head back in the dirt and laughed and laughed, and you punched him across the face, but he continued to laugh, his lip bleeding.

he laughed and laughed and he said, "what a pair we are, y/n."

"y/n!" the shout of your name pulled you from the red rage you were seeing. you'd pressed the knife into his throat enough to draw blood, but you could not push it further. you could not kill him, and he lay there beneath you reveling in the fact.

you stood, stepping away from hongjoong. he merely laid there, even as mingi stepped closer, his eyes flickering between you, hongjoong, and his dragon.

hongjoong pushed himself to his feet, covered in blood, and he turned to mingi. you only noticed then that hongjoong had a sword at his hip that he had never drawn. he could have drawn it whenever he wanted, yet it remained sheathed, just as dragon remained forgotten.

you did not want to think of whether he could not do it either. you did not want to believe it a possibility with him, not when he had his hands around your throat with the intention to kill just a few moments ago.

mingi drew his sword, his brows furrowed as he spoke, "what is going on, hongjoong?"

hongjoong's hand went to the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it. his eyes flickered to you, before he rested his gaze on mingi. he said, "i am going to reclaim the throne."

mingi did not falter, did not respond.

hongjoong continued, "i will die."

mingi did not falter.

hongjoong nodded, before he turned away, blood dripping from his hand wound as he made his way to his dragon.

the two of you watched as he walked away. as he pulled himself up on his dragon, and ascended into the grey clouds.

he walked away, as he always did.

as soon as his dragon disappeared, mingi dropped his sword and turned to you. the clatter of steel against rocks and dirt felt as loud as thunder.

mingi knelt before you. only then did you realize you'd sunk to your knees.

mingi asked, "can i touch you?"

you nodded, a stilted movement.

he reached for the knife you still gripped, prying it from your hands, and then he gently wrapped his arms around your form.

you said, "he will die."

"yes."

"i am sorry."

"why?"

"he was your family."

"he was supposed to be yours, too, y/n."

present time (21 and 23 years old);

There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.

It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.

You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.

But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.

And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.

Alright, now you were just projecting.

But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.

There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."

You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.

No more football.

The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.

You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.

And it's been a lot of doctors.

The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.

You didn't know which was worse.

After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.

The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.

Your dad, of course, tries.

"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."

It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.

"Right." Is all you say.

Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.

Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.

"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table. 

You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.

He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.

"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."

"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.

"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."

"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.

"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."

"Dad-"

"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"

"They weren't my friends-"

"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.

"Fine."

"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."

You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.

-

You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.

Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.

You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.

Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.

She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.

Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.

You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.

But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.

Just...try, at least.

You clear your throat. Here you go...

"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.

"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."

So...now what?

You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.

"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.

"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."

It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;

"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."

You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party. 

"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."

She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.

You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."

Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"

You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.

You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.

Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.

It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.

Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."

"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!" 

"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"

"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"

There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,

"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.

"I'll go wash my face."

"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.

And she really does.

She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it. 

She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.

She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.

All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.

It's bonding, you realize. 

You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.

It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.

But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.

"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"

"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."

"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."

You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk. 

You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."

She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."

That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"

Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.

"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."

You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.

"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."

"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."

You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.

Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all. 

The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.

You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.

It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.

And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.

Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.

Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.

It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.

"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"

Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.

"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."

You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.

It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.

"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.

Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.

It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.

"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."

You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."

When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.

So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.

"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.

The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.

You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.

You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.

"You're a nice girl, Y/N."

"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."

She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.

"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."

"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"

"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."

As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.

New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.

Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.

Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.

She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.

As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.

You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.

At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.

You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.

"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."

Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."

"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.

You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.

 Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.

He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.

You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.

You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.

Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.

And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"

You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.

"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."

Oh. Oh.

Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.

"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."

She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."

You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.

Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?

"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.

"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."

"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.

"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?

He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."

"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."

Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."

You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.

"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.

With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."

"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?

To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.

"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.

"What?" You ask, lost entirely. 

Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."

Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.

A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.

Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.

"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."

"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"

"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"

She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.

You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid. 

They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.

A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.

"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.

"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."

He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"

You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.

It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.

Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"

His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."

Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.

Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"

"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."

"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.

You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.

"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"

Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.

"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.

Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"

Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."

You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"

Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.

There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.

Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.

Two birds with one stone.

"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."

"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"

You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun only anymore.

Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.

"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.

There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you. 

He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.

While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.

Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!

Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-

Wait.

Nononono.

But-

Wait.

You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.

As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.

His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.

He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.

This...whore. 

A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.

When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.

"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.

Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!

Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.

You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.

"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."

All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"

You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."

Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.

"Mind showing me?"

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.

-

Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.

 But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic. 

Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened. 

This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.

He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.

Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.

Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.

When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms. 

He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.

When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.

Jesus Christ.

When the fuck did you become hot?

Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.

Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.

Wow.

It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.

He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.

"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."

No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.

"I-It looks bad?"

It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.

But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.

And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.

"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?

The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.

The business being your marvelous tits.

With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.

"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.

God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.

His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.

When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.

Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.

"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.

With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.

His dick ached.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...

"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"

"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."

His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.

You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.

"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.

"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.

So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.

Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"

-

You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.

He's beautiful.

Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.

There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.

You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.

You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.

When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.

Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.

And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.

You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis. 

You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.

You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.

There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-

"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"

Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.

It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.

You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.

His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.

"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.

"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"

You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."

"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.

You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."

"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?

You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears. 

Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.

You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.

Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?

You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.

It was going so well these last two years.

With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

Back in his first year, Heeseung met you during the Sorting Hat ceremony, where you accidentally tripped him right before he walked up to get sorted. Everyone in the Grand Hall laughed at him, which was not his idea of a welcoming initiation into Slytherin, so he glared holes into the back of your head for the rest of the year. 

In his third year, you ran into him at King’s Cross station, causing all of his trunks to go flying. While you were helping him repack everything, you two realized that the Hogwarts Express was long gone, and neither of you could even access the magical entryway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Heeseung cried into his hands at the train station until a professor Apparated to pick them both up, and then you teased him about his tears for what felt like forever. 

In a similar sense, Heeseung had somehow always managed to get into trouble when he was around you. Now, he had naturally grown out of disliking you for causing him so much suffering (mostly because he was far more popular now and everyone had forgotten about how you sent him flying during a duel, unfortunately revealing his strawberry-patterned boxers to an entire room of second and third years), but Heeseung was still wary about the adversity that seemed to follow you.

Were you a friend? Heeseung couldn’t tell for sure. You two spent an awfully long amount of time together, but you both also had your separate friend groups that hardly intermingled. Heeseung supposed you were more of a thorn in his side that hurt more when he tried to yank it out.

Now, there was nothing left for him to do now but clutch his stomach in pain and pray that he didn’t need to spend another night in the infirmary because of you. (Madam Pomfrey started to keep a tally; “Oh, Miss L/N didn’t injure you again, did she? Have a toffee, sweetheart,” was what he was expecting to hear from the school nurse.)

“Heeseung! Are you okay?” you asked, running up to him with your other hand clutching your broom. Thankfully, Heeseung had managed to grip his broom with one hand on the way down until he had safely landed, so there were no damages to his Moontrimmer. “Who did this to you?!”

“I know you’re holding the bat behind your back, Y/N,” he got out through gritted teeth.

He watched as you let your arm fall defeatedly to your side, revealing the Beater’s bat that violated practically every safety protocol.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Kim Minjeong, the Chaser for the Slytherin team, said with a giggle from behind her palm. She was still floating a few feet from the ground, witnessing the damage done from her broom. Heeseung glared up at her. “Not a good look for you, Captain.”

Normally, he would shut Minjeong up with his usual threat that went something along the lines of putting a curse on her bloodline. This time, however, Heeseung was in far too much pain and humiliation to come up with a witty comeback.

Madam Hooch came running across the field to see what happened to her star Quidditch player. On the bright side, Heeseung knew that you wouldn’t get in trouble because game was game; you were just doing what you needed to ensure your victory, even though Slytherin still had a huge lead on Hufflepuff. After momentary deliberation, however, Heeseung realized that the bright side should have been the fact that he was still alive. Why was he thinking about you, anyway? He would pay galleons to see you get in trouble—but not too much trouble (and Merlin’s beard, he was far too soft).

“He needs to be taken to the infirmary,” Madam Hooch said. She spared you a glance before making a shooing motion with her gloved hand. By this time, his friends (Park Sunghoon, a sixth year who Heeseung ‘adopted’ in his second year, and Yang Jungwon, a broody fourth year with a penchant for rule-breaking) had come running down the stands and across the field. “You can visit him after you finish the match, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey can handle this.”

“Yes, of course,” you murmured, turning to Heeseung again and muttering a pathetic apology, to which he cracked a grin at. Maybe he shouldn’t have been grinning since you nearly cracked his skull open, or maybe he had really lost it this time. 

“It’s only been a week since you’ve managed to nearly get me killed.” Heeseung shuddered at the memory of you accidentally setting his cloak on fire last week with a Blasting Charm. “Don’t worry. I knew something was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Words of affirmation weren’t exactly his strong suit. 

But upon seeing the awkward grin on your face, like a blast of light that hit him all at once, Heeseung was suddenly painfully aware of everything—the awfully pleasant scent of lavender wafting from you, the searing ache from his injury, the way your hair framed your face, and the cool metal balled in his fist. 

Wait—metal?

Before he was about to be carried out in a not-so-dignified manner, Heeseung raised his arm to open his palm, revealing the Golden Snitch that sat obediently, fanning its wings out once before closing again. A gasp rose from the crowd, and then the shocked looks from both teams followed. Minjeong nearly fell off her broom. The Slytherin house all but exploded in cheers after Madam Hooch gaped at the sight, fumbled for her whistle, blew it loudly, and then announced Slytherin’s victory over Hufflepuff. 

Heeseung sighed in relief and fully collapsed onto the ground, looking up at the clear sky with contentment lifting the anguish from his brows. And now that he knew the verdict of the match, the pain finally hit him all at once, and he hoped Madam Pomfrey could fix him up before his house started celebrating their triumph. 

“Heeseung! That was an incredible play!” Nishimura Riki, a fourth year Gryffindor, cried as he came running from the stands. If by incredible, he was referring to Heeseung getting bludgeoned to the ground, then sure, incredible—outstanding, even. The flash of Riki’s camera went off, capturing a pathetic-looking Heeseung lying limp on the springy turf. “This’ll definitely make the front page!”

Ever since the Nishimura kid got an internship at the Daily Prophet, the Slytherin team had been worried about appearing on the news unprompted—most likely in unflattering angles, too. It had even gotten to the point of Song Eunseok pinning up a poster of Riki to a corkboard in the locker room, as if he was a wanted criminal at large.

“Er, could we retake—”

“You grab his legs,” a voice from behind him ordered. It was Sunghoon, who had come running with Jungwon to carry him out of the field. “I’ll take his arms.”

Heeseung balked. “Guys, wait!”

But it was no use. He was already in the air, and Jungwon and Sunghoon were both ignoring his protests.

As if he was a rather sad sack of potatoes, Heeseung was carried out, body dangling and his eyes screwed shut as he heard more flashes of Riki’s camera going off. Most of all, he wondered if you caught sight of how pitiful he was. Surely, you found it hilarious, didn’t you? He was certain he would get teased endlessly in Charms next week. 

“Nice game, champ,” Jungwon commented oh-so-casually, and Heeseung’s blood started boiling. 

“Can you put me down already?! We have magic for a reason!” he blurted out, but his two friends ignored him all the same. 

“I saw Sunoo being carried out like this the other day outside of the Dueling Club meeting room,” Sunghoon mused, and Heeseung imagined the poor Slytherin also being hauled to the infirmary like a ragdoll. “I heard he got hit with a nasty Disarming Charm. Someone nearly blasted the poor guy right into the Clock Tower’s pendulum.”

“I know. He’s better at dodging than I thought,” Jungwon replied unsympathetically. “What a shame. I’ll get him next time.”

Heeseung blanched. Poor Kim Sunoo.

But then he remembered his current state and thought Sunoo was better off than him. At least Sunoo wasn’t carried out in front of the entire school. 

Really, the reason why Heeseung was so agitated was because being Slytherin’s Seeker meant that he had an important role. It was a responsibility that clearly set him apart, and it surely had to look impressive to others—for example, you—but here he was, being carried out of the Quidditch pitch like an idiot. It put all of his hard work and countless hours of practice to shame. 

Thankfully, although his failing jock status might have damaged his ego to the point of no return, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to think his injuries were too severe this time. After a few healing charms, which made him feel back to normal in no time, Heeseung was ready to leave the infirmary. 

Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up leaving right after dropping him off, claiming that they had to go celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Heeseung found it completely disrespectful to ditch the very person who brought them to victory. 

To his surprise, you were waiting outside the door, twiddling your thumbs and doing that annoyingly cute habit of yours where you chewed on the inside of your cheek whenever you were in trouble (which, frankly, happened a lot of the time). He made a great deal of effort to adjust his cape before walking over to you with raised eyebrows, wondering if an apology was coming his way. 

“I just wanted to say,” you started, voice uncharacteristically small and wavering, but then you followed up with an incomprehensible mumble that Heeseung could hardly decipher.

“What?”

“Uh,” you raised your voice this time, keeping it steadier with extra effort, “on the way here—funny story, really—I was telling Jake about how you set off a Dungbomb in Filch’s office the other week. Honest to God, I didn’t even see Mrs. Norris!”

Although you didn’t provide a solid conclusion, he was able to connect the dots and figure out what you were getting at. He almost wished he stayed oblivious because how was this happening to him twice in a day?

Heeseung’s face fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Filch is looking for you,” you finished with a guilty look drawn across your face. 

It happened to be your second guilty look of the day, actually. Two too many for Heeseung to handle. 

There was one thing Lee Heeseung was quite sure of, and it was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you from now on. 

The aftermath of his scolding from Filch resulted in him receiving evening detentions for the rest of the week. All you brought him was terrible luck wherever he went, and despite how nice you smelled and how shiny your hair was, he didn’t need your misfortune clinging to him like it would be the last breath he’d take. 

Honestly, any longer around you and he was pretty sure he would be taking his last breath soon.

But it was honestly ridiculous how hard Heeseung had to restrain himself from going near you. He would pass by your unbothered self in the Courtyard, hoping to get some verbal recognition from you that would change his mind about his whole ignoring thing, but you simply just paid more attention to stupid Jake Sim from Hufflepuff. 

Who cared about Jake Sim, anyway? Surely not the several girls in his year that threw themselves at him. There was nothing redeeming about him, not even with his perfect smile and perfect grades and perfect robes. Honestly, where did he get those robes? Heeseung bought his at Madam Malkin’s, like virtually every other student, but they weren’t as perfectly trimmed and fitted as Jake Sim’s perfect robes.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Park Jongseong, a sixth year Ravenclaw, sneered once he saw the glower across Heeseung’s face. “Wanting nothing to do with Y/N starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her.”

“Who said I didn’t not want anything to do with her?” Heeseung fired back, but even he was confused about his response, taking a few extra seconds to process what nonsense had just spewed out of his mouth. “Okay, look, just pretend I said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard when she walks by us.”

“Actually, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Heeseung gave him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not that funny to begin with. Kind of hilarious that you think you’d be able to tell me the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You literally just told me I said the funniest thing ever.”

“Funny because it was such a pathetic thing to say. There’s a difference.”

“You’re a stupid git, you know that?”

“Am I now?”

“The stupidest of stupid gits.”

In truth, Jake was the stupid git. Jongseong could tease Heeseung all he wanted, but Jake Sim was the one grinning down at you with a stupid sparkle in his eyes, taunting the Slytherin with those evil, perfect corners of his lips. Didn’t he have better things to do? Like not taking up the oxygen in a place where he was clearly unwanted?

Also, to set the record straight, Heeseung needed to make it perfectly clear (to himself, too, because this was clearly confusing for him and everybody around him) that he was not into you. 

Probably.

Sure, he felt a smidge of fondness because you two had gotten into life-threatening situations before (all your fault, by the way), so there was probably some semblance of friendship that was only due to the fact that shared trauma often brought people together. But that was all it was. Heeseung’s feelings did not extend into anything remotely romantic; he even shuddered at the very thought. 

That was right. He was your friend, and that was all he wanted to be. Heeseung most definitely did not think about anything like holding your hand, or plucking flowers to braid into your hair, or kissing you in hidden corners of the castle. That would be ridiculous and completely unlike him.

And then you really did walk past him and Jongseong, so Heeseung took it upon himself to punch his friend’s shoulder hard and burst into forced laughter. He tried extremely hard to convince himself that this was a very normal thing to do, but soon after the act, he wanted to lay on the floor of the Owlery until the owls collectively decided to fly his body out somewhere far away—hopefully another country.

“Idiot, I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh,” Jongseong reminded him once you were out of sight. (You did not pay attention to his charade, Heeseung was sad to note.) With a scoff, he added, “You should probably hit the books ‘cause acting’s clearly not up your alley.”

Heeseung let out a retired sigh and stood up from the stone bench they had been sitting on. “I’m going to Potions.”

“Oh, you attend class now? Shocking.” 

“I prefer not spending my evenings in detention.”

“Alright. I’ll update you later on the Jake-and-Y/N show.”

“You do that, and I’ll show you how good I’ve gotten at the hair loss curse,” he spat. “I’d start investing in some hats.”

“Is that why Sunghoon’s missing half an eyebrow?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. Honestly, Sunghoon’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he left it up to Jongseong’s imagination for the sake of intimidation.

As he stormed away (well, more of a brisk walk; Heeseung wasn’t one to storm), he realized that his friends had all sorts of misconceptions about him. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Jongseong would possibly think he was concerned about you and Jake Sim. Sure, he spent a good portion of the morning glaring daggers at Jake Sim, but there was no way that meant Heeseung was that concerned about the Hufflepuff. 

What was there to be concerned about, anyway? Heeseung was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, scored five O.W.L.s last year, and he was the top duelist at Hogwarts. Jake Sim was just another pretty boy who Heeseung could crush under the sole of his shoe if he wanted to. 

His mind wandered to thoughts of you and Jake Sim walking back to the Hufflepuff common room together. Your melodic laugh echoing through the halls because of a joke he told; your fingers entwined with his as he carried your books for you; and your eyes practically glowing with admiration as you watched him intently. 

The thought made Heeseung sick to his stomach. Not because he liked you or anything disgusting like that, but because Jake Sim didn’t deserve to receive that much attention—not even in a hypothetical scenario that played out in Heeseung’s wild, almost sadistic imagination.

One thought comforted him, though: You had Potions with Heeseung, meaning you had to pry yourself from Jake’s side to attend Slughorn’s class. 

As he was about to approach the classroom door, Heeseung realized he had forgotten his Potions textbook. He debated whether to go in without it or run to his dormitory to fetch it, and he eventually went with the latter to avoid being clueless if today required brewing a potion. This resulted in him being about ten minutes late to class, which he decided was your fault somehow. 

Immediately upon entering the room, the pungent scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and it was all he could smell. He later recognized that there were a few other smells mixed in—the smell of butterbeer and the smell of fresh ink. The lavender, however, was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses.

It smelled like you.

Before Heeseung was about to blurt out and ask why you doused the entire classroom in your perfume, Professor Slughorn turned to look at him with brows raised in pleasant surprise.

“Ah, Mr. Lee,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”

He was ten minutes late.

“Uh, just forgot my textbook,” he said, holding up the Potions textbook he walked several, brutal flights of stairs to retrieve. 

“If you’re ready to join us, I was just going over Amortentia.” 

If Heeseung’s memory served him correctly, that was either the potion that boosted one’s memory or the potion that induced laughter. He hadn’t exactly been doing his reading over the summer, which was probably not an intelligent decision on his part considering he was in N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Either way, he was a little too preoccupied mentally replaying how his eyes met yours briefly. Heeseung walked over to stand next to you—for research purposes, of course—because he needed to know if you had really drenched yourself in lavender perfume, or if he had just gone crazy.

He nudged you with his elbow and muttered, “You reek.” 

Okay, that was definitely not a chivalrous way of putting it.

“Excuse me?” Your unnaturally high-pitched voice was hardly a whisper, but Heeseung could detect… panic?

“No, I mean your perfume,” he corrected quickly. “It’s everywhere.”

“Is it that strong?” You lifted your sleeve to sniff at it. 

“Yeah? It’s—”

“—the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind,” Heeseung heard Slughorn say as he redirected his focus to the actual lecture. “Amortentia’s said to smell different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

So it turned out that his memory didn’t serve him correctly at all.

Heeseung had his fair share of near-death experiences—probably a few more than the average Hogwarts student.

Never had he wanted so badly to combust into flames on the spot like a phoenix. Except he didn’t want to rise from the ashes; he was perfectly content with staying dead and buried without ever having to relive the last couple minutes of his life, which he was sure would scar him forever. 

Immediately, Heeseung stopped focusing on Slughorn’s lecture to conjure up some lame excuse in his head. Maybe he could tell everyone that his Muggle-born father owned a lavender farm back in the day, thus his love for lavender scents bloomed. But, Merlin’s beard, that didn’t even make sense! Just because he loved the smell of lavender didn’t mean he was in love with it. The smell was always attached to the person—the very object of his desires.

And, of course, it all pointed back to you.

Heeseung should not have had the realization that he was in love with you in the middle of Potions, of all classes. Astronomy? Sure. He thought it would be romantic to come to terms with his feelings whilst observing the celestial bodies in the sky. Divination? Even better. Gazing into a crystal ball for answers made complete sense. 

But Potions? Seriously? This was probably the least romantic place in Hogwarts aside from the haunted bathroom in the South Wing. 

No, on second thought, Heeseung saw some potential in the haunted bathroom. Something about the complete isolation of the facility made it all the more exciting.

Potions, on the other hand, was simply downright dreadful. 

“Amortentia, as you all know, is extremely dangerous. I only have it out here for educational purposes, so do not even think about touching that cauldron,” Slughorn warned. “Instead, for today’s lesson, I want you all to partner up and brew something… more lighthearted—say, Elixir for Inducing Euphoria. You can find it in your Potions books in chapter eight.”

After his lecture, Slughorn made everyone write down what Amortentia smelled like for them, warning his class about the dangers of the love potion being slipped into someone’s food or drink. Heeseung hastily wrote his down on a scrap of parchment before pocketing it where he would surely forget it existed.

He had been hoping Potion-making was going to be individual work today. He despised partner work, especially when that meant Heeseung would potentially be working with you, which didn’t prove too successful for his heart or his grades. 

More importantly, Heeseung did not, by any means, want to work alongside you after accidentally admitting that the Amortentia smelled like lavender to him.

Not to mention you were atrocious when it came to Potions. Heeseung needed more than two hands to count all the times your cauldron blew up in your face this year. Even when Heeseung took the reins and stirred the ingredients himself, you would somehow manage to expertly worsen the situation.

Thankfully, Kim Sunoo also took Potions, so as soon as Heeseung spotted the Slytherin, he grabbed his robes by the nape. 

“You’re working with me.” 

It came off more as an order than a request, but Heeseung needed to be firm to emphasize the gravity of the situation he was in. What if he died working with you? Did Sunoo want him dead? 

“No way,” Sunoo refused. “I already told Sohee I’d work with him. Plus, you never bring the right ingredients.”

Well, that was that; Sunoo hated Heeseung and wanted him dead. 

“Are you serious? Sohee?” Heeseung asked, acting as if Sohee wasn’t one of the top students in Potions. “You’re turning your best friend down?”

“No, I’m turning you down.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“Sunoo, d’you have any Sopophorous beans on you?” Lee Sohee asked as he approached the two, reading off his Potions book. “I have Worm—oh, hey, Heeseung!”

With little enthusiasm, he greeted, “Hi, Sohee.”

“Heeseung needs a partner,” Sunoo explained.

“Oh, really?” Before Heeseung could stop him, Sohee turned his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Y/N! Heeseung needs a partner, too!”

“Sohee!” Heeseung hissed, suddenly wishing Sohee’s head was a Quaffle he could launch into oblivion. He lowered his voice to mutter, “Have you considered that maybe I’m asking Sunoo because I don’t wanna partner with Y/N?”

He shrugged in response. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Oh, this was horrible. Not only did Sunoo hate Heeseung and want him dead, but Sohee had joined in on the cause, too. They were both clearly plotting something wicked against him.

But now he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could turn you down after Sohee had blatantly lied about Heeseung’s intentions. This was the worst outcome yet; he was probably going to fail Potions because of you, and then he would have to write a make-up paper on the stupid elixir they were supposed to brew.

“No one wants to partner with me!” you complained, shoulders sagging and lips forming a pout when you walked over to the Slytherin. “I can always count on you, though, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

No one wanted to partner with you? What had the wizarding world come to? Where was the comradery? 

He was almost infuriated by how spineless the rest of his classmates were. Sure, Heeseung was complaining about working with you seconds prior, but you said it yourself: you could always count on him. At the end of the day, failing today’s class and writing a make-up paper was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Heeseung would always extend a helpful hand to those who needed it, or someone he was potentially crushing on.

Get a grip, Heeseung, he scolded himself. You do not have a crush on her. She’s just a good friend, that’s all. A perfectly normal, platonic friend of yours who gets on your nerves sometimes… and smells rather nice… and sort of looks extremely pretty when she has her hair tied up… and—

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

“Yeah,” he got out in an embarrassingly choked voice. “You were my first choice, anyway—well, after Sunoo turned me down.”

There often came a time when a man had to put himself through tough situations to overcome adversity. As Heeseung approached their table, his shiny cauldron gleaming under the lamp light, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Make sure you didn’t lay a finger on his bloody cauldron.

Sunoo and Sohee were working at the same table, standing at the bench across from them. Heeseung quickly sifted through his bag, and, as Sunoo predicted, he didn’t bring any of the ingredients necessary for the elixir. What the hell was he going to do with Fluxweed and rose oil?

“I have porcupine quills,” you said, pulling a glass jar out of your bag.

“Uh, okay, so I need you to get a Shrivelfig and Wormwood from Slughorn’s closet,” he instructed you, giving you a thumbs-up once you nodded. “I’m gonna beg Sunoo for his Sopophorous beans.”

After you walked off, Heeseung leaned over the table and muttered, “Sunoo, please give me some of your beans.”

“No,” the prick replied. 

“Please,” Heeseung begged. “Eunseok’s table took the last of them from Slughorn’s closet.”

“Maybe, but I want something in return.”

“What do you want?”

A sly grin spread across Kim Sunoo’s face. “Tell me what the Amortentia smelled like for you.”

Honestly, Heeseung was perfectly content with writing another twenty inches to make up for a failed potion. He would even take detention, if needed. Anything to get himself out of this sick and twisted situation. 

In his head, he imagined Sunoo getting what he deserved, and that was his ass getting properly kicked during Dueling Club. He envisioned Jungwon flourishing his wand and blasting Sunoo square in the gut, knocking him straight into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

He gave his friend a reproachful look. “I wish Jungwon’s spell hit you.”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and held up his jar of Sopophorous beans, waving them teasingly in the air. This was almost too much for Heeseung, but he committed to working with you, so he couldn’t let you down while you were off getting the rest of the ingredients.

“Lavender,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “The Amortentia smelled like lavender.”

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Hear that, Sohee? Heeseung smelled lavender. You know who else usually smells like lavender?”

At that moment, you returned with the rest of the ingredients. You showed Heeseung the jars and bottles you brought over, but he was too distracted to properly examine them. His gaze remained fixed on Sunoo, eyes burning with resentment. He prayed to Salazar that Sunoo wouldn’t slip up in front of you.

Sohee, who clearly had no idea who Sunoo was referring to, blinked slowly. “Uh, Professor Longbottom? He probably smells like it—you know, with all the time he spends in the Greenhouse.”

“Yes, Sohee, I’m in love with Professor Longbottom,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Thank you for your wonderful insight.”

You made a face. “You’re in love with who?” 

“No one,” Heeseung replied quickly once Sunoo finally handed him his desired ingredients. He lit the fire under the cauldron, dropping a sprig of peppermint inside to counterbalance the possible side-effects. “Just peel the Shrivelfig and chop the porcupine quills while I stir.”

The potion-making seemed to be going smoothly for the first few steps. However, when you were chopping the porcupine quills, Heeseung’s chest leaped when he heard an ouch come from you. He forgot about his cauldron immediately and looked over to see your finger bleeding.

“What happened?” He grabbed hold of your hand, inspecting the blood oozing from your cut. “Did you slice your finger?”

“M-my hand just slipped.”

This was bad. If Heeseung didn’t disinfect and bandage the wound, then it could possibly get infected and you’d die. (Merlin’s Beard, Heeseung, it’s hardly a flesh wound, his thoughts annoyingly cut in.) He needed to get you to Madam Pomfrey before—

“Heeseung!” Sunoo yelled from over the table. 

He whirled around to see that elixir had turned a deep purple hue, bubbling up to the rim. That was strange; it was supposed to be a bright yellow color by now. Considering he was handling the cauldron the entire time, nothing should have gone badly wrong. Time seemed to slow down as Heeseung speculated what in Salazar’s name he managed to screw up.

That was when he noticed the green bottle next to the cauldron—the Infusion of Wormwood he poured in earlier. Except it wasn’t Wormwood; the brown tag hanging from the neck of the bottle read Flobberworm Mucus.

Before he could curse himself for not reading the label properly beforehand, the failed elixir rose all the way to the top and shot out of the cauldron, spewing purple liquid all over their table and burning a hole through the wood. Slughorn’s head turned sharply in their direction, and he crossed the classroom to see what mess you and Heeseung had caused. 

“Evanesco!” the Potions teacher shouted, making the substance vanish in an instant. Slughorn looked mostly unsurprised as he turned to face you and Heeseung, letting a retired sigh slip. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—and twenty inches on the properties of Amortentia by next class.”

“Twenty?” you cried, nearly gasping from the shock. “But, Sir, we have so much work from our other N.E.W.T. classes already!”

“And we have the Hogsmede trip after class,” Heeseung chimed in. 

And, bless his heart, Slughorn was far too kind of a soul to be too strict with either of you. He typically had high expectations for those he taught, especially the ones he sought out for his reputable ‘Slug Club,’ but he had a soft spot for his N.E.W.T. students.

“Alright then, well… you and Mr. Lee can write twenty inches together and bring it to me,” he decided in his bumbling voice. 

When he walked away, Heeseung let his shoulders sag. He couldn’t believe he had to write a paper over this—and with you, no less. He should’ve known that he was cursed to stumble upon misfortune again, but, at the same time, he just couldn’t find a way to blame you. Sure, you were the one who took the wrong bottle from the Potions cabinet, but Heeseung really should’ve double-checked the label before he poured it into the cauldron.

“Oh, well,” Sunoo simpered, wearing a proud smirk, “writing about Amortentia shouldn’t be hard for you, huh?”

Heeseung demonstrated his hair loss curse on Sunoo after class.

“I might get a D on my N.E.W.T. for Potions, Hee,” you complained to him later when you both had snuck away to the lakefront to work on your remedial paper. There was a nice patch of grass that Heeseung liked to sit on and contemplate his miserable life, so he figured that he’d share the location with you. “Or maybe even a T—oh, Godric’s Heart.”

“Hey, failing with distinction would be much more impressive than just downright failing,” he tried. 

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Heeseung had a total of four words written on his parchment so far, which happened to be both of your first and last names. He wasn’t sure how he would get to twenty inches without delving into the smells of Amortentia, which he already figured he would need to use a personal anecdote for. He was trying his best to avoid that since it would lead to a rather awkward conversation. 

However, everyone was leaving for Hogsmede shortly, so Heeseung was hoping that you would decide to set aside the rest of the paper for later. 

As if the universe was rubbing Heeseung’s misery in his face, Jake Sim came strutting over in his stupid, perfect robes. (Except it was quite a normal walk; no strutting whatsoever, actually.)

“Just got out of Arithmancy?” you asked him with a gut-wrenching, brilliant smile on your face.

“Yeah, Seunghan and I were heading to Hogsmede with everyone else,” Jake answered before his gaze drifted to Heeseung. Something seemed to light up in his eyes and he started reaching into his robes. “Hey, nice game yesterday! Did you see that, uh… where did I put it…” After some rummaging through his pockets, Jake pulled out a piece of parchment which seemed to be a clipping from the school newspaper. “You made the front page!” 

Heeseung peered to see a moving picture of himself laying on the Quidditch pitch, half-conscious as the Golden Snitch rested in the palm of his hand. Next to him, Sunghoon and Jungwon gave the camera a thumbs-up and feigned shock at the sight of the Seeker on the ground. 

He was definitely going to be sending Riki a Howler. 

“Lovely,” he replied half-heartedly, fighting down a scowl when he realized that Jake wanted him to keep the clipping. “I’ll hang it up with the rest of my collection.”

Jake laughed, even though Heeseung was dead serious. He had an archive of mortifying photographs of him that Riki had taken ever since he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. Collecting them was intentional, of course; Heeseung needed evidence for the Wizangamot if he planned to sue Nishimura Riki for defamation one day. If Heeseung had known how much of a nuisance the Gryffindor would be, he would’ve plotted for the kid to be sent back home right after his Sorting Ceremony. 

“We have a remedial paper to write,” you told Jake glumly, “so I don’t think we’ll be going to Hogsmede today.”

Jake shrugged. “I’ll see you in the common room later, then.”

“Bye-bye.”

Once Jake walked off to find his friend, Heeseung shot you a dark look. There might have been something warm and soupy in his chest whenever he even looked in your general direction, but he wouldn’t let this slide. 

“I’m not skipping the Hogsmede trip.”

“But we have to finish—”

“But Hogsmede,” he whined. “Can’t we meet in the library after and work on it?”

“I have a Transfiguration quiz I need to study for.” You sounded distressed for a moment, but you quickly brightened up. “Who are you meeting in Hogsmede?”

“Uh, well, no one in particular. Just wanted to check out some stores.”

“Then how about we go together?” you suggested. “We can work on our paper in The Three Broomsticks.”

“Oh.” Heat suddenly rose to Heeseung’s cheeks, and although he desperately tried to convince himself that your proposal did not sound like a date, he couldn’t shake how excited he was to spend some one-on-one time with you. “That works for me.”

On Salazar’s name, Heeseung was going to murder Sunghoon and Jungwon in cold blood.

While you and Heeseung had gotten cozy in an empty booth, brushing shoulders as you two looked over the first paragraph you started, his two dear friends decided to show up where they were clearly unwelcome. Apparently, mouthing get the fuck out of here wasn’t sending the message across.

Sunghoon was on some long tangent about how he barely scraped by on his O.W.L.s, but Slughorn finally gave him the green light to take Alchemy. For some odd reason, Alchemy was only available as a N.E.W.T. class, so Sunghoon had been anxious the whole summer over whether his O.W.L. results would be enough. 

“Didn’t you get five O.W.L.s?” Jungwon asked, bored.

“Six—A in Herbology,” Sunghoon corrected. “I hate plants.”

“Longbottom let you in with an Acceptable?” Heeseung raised his brows with mild interest, but he quickly steeled his expression. He was not entertaining their company, no. He started practicing the fine art of Legilimency to send a message to Sunghoon: go away, go away, go away, go away.

“He said he was especially impressed that I got into his N.E.W.T. class.”

“Oh, yeah,” you spoke up, pointing at Sunghoon. “Yizhuo told me she had no idea you were in her class until you showed up for exams.”

“I also didn’t realize she was in my class until you mentioned that.”

“How’d you even pass?” Heeseung asked.

“No clue,” Sunghoon replied honestly. “The exam was fine, but I thought the practical would be the end for me. Turns out I’m a natural. They even clapped after I ripped the leaves off a Venomous Tentacula. Like, big deal, it’s a plant.” 

Everyone at the table froze. Heeseung practically jumped seconds later, hitting his leg against the underside of the table. He had long abandoned his goal of kicking Sunghoon and Jungwon out of The Three Broomsticks. You choked on your butterbeer, wiping some of the foam off your chin. Jungwon’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heeseung’s knee hit the underside of the table, suppressing a groan. There was a shuffle below.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you ducking under the table for a moment. However, he was too astounded by Sunghoon’s story to divert the topic. 

Heeseung set his butterbeer down and asked, “You just walked over and used your bare hands?”

“I suppose not showing up to class has its upsides,” Jungwon said. “Ignorance is bliss.”

“Sunghoon, do you even know what a Venomous Tentacula does?” you asked.

“What? Photosynthesis?” 

“Well, other than the snapping jaws that can either stun or kill you, and the vines reaching out to strangle you when you’re least expecting it,” Jungwon started (which didn't sound like a very pleasant start, to be honest), “there's also the venom that shoots out from its sprouts—oh, and the thorns that can kill you if you prick your finger.”

Sunghoon looked disturbed before muttering to Heeseung, “And they call Hogwarts the safest school on Earth. What a joke.”

You excused yourself shortly after the conversation came to an end, claiming that you spotted a friend a few tables over. Heeseung pretended to listen to Sunghoon and Jungwon trying to guess how old Professor Binns was, but really he was keeping an eye on you. Minjeong was whispering something to you, paused when you wrapped your arms around her, and then turned her neck to say something with sudden enthusiasm. 

Heeseung wondered how it would feel if he was sitting in that seat instead of Kim Minjeong, if your arms were draped around his shoulders like that. He thought of your hair falling into his face, how he’d brush it away and turn his head to kiss you—

Dangerous waters, he warned himself. Do not go there.

“Every time I ask him—and, mind you, it was only a couple of times—he falls asleep before he can even give me an answer!” Sunghoon complained, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to the topic of the ancient History of Magic professor. “Heeseung, has he ever told your class how old he is?”

“Couple hundred years probably,” he answered. “Can you guys leave now?”

They gawked at him, offended. 

Now Heeseung had realized he had driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t tell them the real reason why he wanted them to leave. If his friends found out that he wanted to spend time with you alone, then they would misconstrue the situation into something involving feelings—something which Lee Heeseung might have had but refused to admit out loud or to himself. 

“You two have been distracting us from finishing our paper,” he said instead, pointing at their unfinished essay. “Twenty inches! And we hardly have two.”

Jungwon, who saw right through him, asked, “You just wanna spend time with Y/N, don’t you?”

Heeseung coughed loudly, as if that would cover up whatever the Slytherin just said. “What?”

“It’s so obvious,” Sunghoon said. “Would we really be your best friends if we couldn’t pick up on who you’re into?”

“I am not into—” Heeseung paused to weigh his words. His recent revelation brought him to the point of no return; he couldn’t just lie about how he felt now. He threw an anxious look over his shoulder to make sure you were still preoccupied with Minjeong. “We have a paper to write.”

Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh. “See? You can’t even deny it.”

“It doesn’t even matter; she’s into Jake.”

They went silent. Glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. 

“Jake Sim?” Jungwon asked. “And Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Jake Sim… and Y/N.”

“Yes,” Heeseung repeated with impatience seeping past his teeth. 

“What makes you think she’s into Jake?”

“Uh…” Heeseung was now irritated that he was being put on the spot because nothing was coming to mind. He just thought of you and Jake laughing together in the courtyard and jealousy wrapped tight around his heart. “I saw them together.”

“I saw you in Filch’s office the other day,” Sunghoon said. “Are you two a thing?”

Heeseung scowled at him, but before he could fire back at his friend, Jungwon said, “Just tell us you want us to leave so you can spend time with Y/N, and we’ll go.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he scarily resembled Kim Sunoo at that very moment. “You should probably make up your mind before she gets back.”

Struggling for a way out of this situation, Heeseung gave them both dirty looks. He had no choice but to give Jungwon and Sunghoon what they wanted. You were going to wrap your conversation up with Minjeong any minute now, so he had to act now before his friends terrorized him for the rest of their Hogsmede trip. 

“Fine,” he said sharply. “I wanna spend time with Y/N alone, so leave.”

Right on command, the two boys made a big scene about having to leave, throwing their hands up in exasperation and getting to their feet slowly. Sunghoon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was a pain for them to be ordered around. Heeseung sank back into his seat in embarrassment. 

“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” Sunghoon drawled, “but you better tell us all the details after.”

Heeseung gave them his word, even though he was sure the update would simply be finishing their essay. Once Jungwon and Sunghoon strode out of the pub, he turned his gaze back to Minjeong’s table. For a moment, he just watched how your hair shone under the warm lighting. Heeseung had to avert his eyes when you turned around again to walk back to his table. There was a strange look on your face, like you were trying to work through a puzzle in your head. 

“Where’d the others go?”

For the entirety of their Hogsmede excursion, Heeseung had been trying his hardest not to look at you when you were so close to him. Now, though, with his friends gone, it was just you and him sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder. 

He realized he was staring at your lips instead of answering your question. He licked his lips involuntarily and looked away. 

“Uh, went to check out some stores, I think,” he lied. “Should we get back to work?”

Slightly distracted, you replied, “Yes, let’s.”

The remedial paper was finally at an impressive twenty inches by the time you and Heeseung thought it would be best to start walking back to the school.

There weren’t many students around anymore as most people didn’t want to miss dinner in the Great Hall. Heeseung felt like something was off. You were focused on the paper the entire time, hardly engaging in any side conversation or recalling some fun memory. When you two ran out of things to write about Amortentia and stumbled upon the topic of describing its scent, Heeseung managed to steer away from writing about how the potion smelled for him. Instead, you two went for a more informational route with zero personal anecdotes.

The walk back to the castle was long, but Heeseung really hadn’t expected you to bring up the topic of Amortentia again. He thought hours of writing a paper on the potion would put you off of it for a long period of time. 

“So, you remember Slughorn showing us the love potion in class, right?” you started timidly while the two of you were crossing a bridge in Hogsmede. You didn’t even let Heeseung get to the trail to Hogwarts before you started your interrogation. “What’d it smell like for you?”

Fuck.

Why was everyone so interested in what the Amortentia smelled like for him? It wasn’t supposed to be some groundbreaking piece of information, and it wasn’t a big deal that it smelled like your signature scent! There were far more interesting things to converse about, like how nicely the leaves were arranged on the trees, or how interesting of a shade the sky was. 

But there was no way for him to avoid this question—not when you were staring at him so adamantly—so he resorted to lying. A white lie never hurt anyone, after all. Or, well, anyone important. 

“Like… books,” he answered, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. 

“Maybe you and the librarian are meant to be,” you teased.

“I guess sneaking into the restricted section makes the heart grow fond.” 

You laughed, and, Merlin’s beard, what a melody. Heeseung could listen to your voice all day. Preferably on a warm day while he was stretched out on some grass with your head on his lap, or maybe he’d like to be laying on your lap. Either way, he would be perfectly content just listening to you talk his ear off until—

“Y’know, that’s funny ‘cause… well, you wrote lavender here,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and holding the very scrap of parchment that was supposed to be tucked away in Heeseung’s pocket.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to shut himself in the Slytherin common room and never hear you speak to him again.

In the couple of seconds he was malfunctioning for, many thoughts raced through Heeseung’s head.

First, he wondered if there was still time left to request a Ministry-issued Time-Turner under the guise that he would use it for his classes. Instead, its intended purpose would be to reverse time until Heeseung had somehow gotten himself out of this situation or destroyed that stupid piece of parchment.

The second revelation that struck him was that he must have dropped the paper in The Three Broomsticks. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he hit his knee under the table. There was a moment when he noticed you picking something up from the floor, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, expecting it to have just been a napkin. 

Lastly, he had gone extremely still—to the point of halting in his tracks and staring at you, wide-eyed. His body had completely seized up to the point where he almost thought he was shaking. Shaking—but he was shaking. He was shaking all over. Or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell. Heeseung clenched a fist to make sure he had control over his body. 

“Heeseung?”

You stopped walking, too, looking at him curiously. For a moment, it looked like you were going to apologize for reading what he wrote down, but you looked down at it again.

“Did the love potion smell like lavender?” you asked in a soft voice. Looking visibly flustered, you said in a rush, “I’m just asking because Minjeong said I always, uh… smell like lavender, and I just thought…” 

He needed to run. He needed to get out of here. He needed to disappear.

Heeseung felt like his blood was rushing through his ears, pumping so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat for a moment. You were saying something, but he couldn’t even make out the words your lips framed. The world had slowed down, and Heeseung wasn’t quite sure if his feet were planted firmly on the ground. 

He would have rather been anywhere else—maybe at Sunghoon’s house where his mother’s baked goods wafted from her kitchen window. He could envision the meadow right behind their house and how he spent the summer in the grass, practicing Quidditch with Sunghoon and his little sister. Jongseong would arrive days later to complain about his O.W.L.s for three hours straight until Sunghoon and Heeseung felt the life oozing out of their bodies. 

But here, with your eyes sparkling with determination, Heeseung felt like he was about to melt into a puddle. He was consumed with the ungodly urge to grab ahold of you and kiss you until his blood felt like electricity in his veins. Yes, he needed to be anywhere but here—anywhere where his feelings weren’t worn on his sleeve for the world to see. 

You started again, “Heeseung—”

Before you could get anything else out, Heeseung, who was overcome with the will to escape, felt something pulling him from behind. In a flash, he was whisked out of thin air with a tug behind his navel, leaving you gobsmacked and stranded in Hogsmede. 

He felt like he was being pushed through a thin vortex, squeezed by the fabric of reality tearing and reshaping itself around him. It took him some gasping breaths to get lungfuls of air into his body, but once he could breathe right again, he realized he was definitely not in Hogsmede.

“Excuse me?” Heeseung asked a nearby townsperson who was walking past him. He must have looked ridiculous in his Hogwarts robes, body awkwardly sprawled over two bales of hay. “Where am I?”

“Feldcroft,” the wizard answered.

He Apparated to Sunghoon’s hometown.

Not only did Heeseung spend thirty minutes trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, but he was late for dinner. You were long gone, of course, but it seemed like you hadn’t exactly abandoned Heeseung. When he arrived on school grounds, Slughorn and McGonagall were waiting for him at the gate. This was definitely going to earn him a detention or two. 

Apparently, you ran back to school to tell McGonagall about what happened. The headmistress also noted that you were sobbing because you were convinced that it was your fault somehow. You happened to be under the belief that Heeseung wouldn’t know how to get back, which he couldn’t argue with because he considered himself lucky to Apparate back without splinching himself. 

After receiving a lecture from both professors about the dangers of Apparating unsupervised, Heeseung received two punishments: one week of detention and he wasn’t allowed to go on the next Hogsmede trip. However, he also received a pat on the back from Slughorn and a congratulations from McGonagall for a successful Apparition. 

When he recounted the story to Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo in the common room the following morning, they were howling with laughter. He had to pause approximately four times for them to catch their breaths.

“It’s not that funny,” Heeseung deadpanned.

Sunoo, who was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, replied, “It’s kinda funny.”

Sunoo was also missing several patches of hair, which Heeseung generously didn’t point out. 

“Did my mom give you anything to bring back?” Sunghoon inquired. “I’ve been craving her tarts.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to drop by your mom’s and pick up some tarts! I was trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, if that wasn’t already clear!”

“On the bright side,” Jungwon said, “you’ll probably pass your Apparition exam now. Sunghoon lost half an eyebrow while he was practicing yesterday.”

Sunghoon, with one and a half eyebrows, grimaced.

“So, you left Y/N hanging and she had to walk back alone?” Sunoo asked, tutting lightly as he shook his head. “Now you stand no chance of asking her out.”

Heeseung tried to cover up how taken aback he was by coughing into his arm, expertly hiding his reddening cheeks from his friends. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Jungwon said. “So, you’d be perfectly fine with Y/N going out with Jake?”

Heeseung’s face turned sour as he turned to look at the Slytherin. “She’s going out with who?” 

“It’s a hypothetical question.”

“Well… who she goes out with is none of my business.”

Sunghoon barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get so worked up?”

“I’m not getting worked up,” Heeseung replied firmly, huffing as he got to his feet. “I simply don’t think she and Jake Sim are compatible, but my opinion’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah?” A ghost of a smirk was plastered across Sunoo’s face. “Why don’t you think they’re compatible?”

There was a fire in the center of Heeseung’s chest, blazing and scorching his heart. He felt as if he would pass out from the immense pressure in his chest, but then his body felt so hot that everything seemed to slip away. He thought of you and Jake again, thinking about how you smiled up at him in a way Heeseung had never seen you smile at him.

The fire in his chest raged. 

“Because I exist,” he answered loudly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to attend.”

Whether they were awestruck or dumbfounded, Heeseung’s friends watched him leave the common room with crooked grins on their faces. He was extremely satisfied that he managed to get his two cents in without his voice cracking or wavering.

After Sunghoon was left in the common room with Sunoo and Jungwon, he slumped back in his seat and asked, “Since when did he go to class?”

Defense Against the Dark Arts was Heeseung’s favorite class. Not because he particularly enjoyed dueling or any violence of the sort, but because Professor Weasley was the only teacher who didn’t assign papers every other day. He preferred a more hands-on teaching method, which usually involved partnering up and practicing spells on fellow classmates.

Plus, when Heeseung was in moods like these—moods where he felt like he was going to burst into flames much like a phoenix would—he looked forward to blasting someone across the room. Someone preferably like Jung Sungchan, who didn’t take it personally when he conjured columns of fire in rapid succession. 

Because he was so hot with unexplained anger and unrestrained emotion, Heeseung had to set the record straight (evidently for himself, too) that he most definitely harbored romantic feelings for you.

Admittedly, this was clear after he smelled the Amortentia, but Heseung refused to allow Potions to be the class that made him aware that he was in love. He could almost envision Slughorn taking credit for his future wedding, and the very thought made him shudder. 

The fire in Heeseung’s chest grew into more of a wildfire tearing through his body once he saw Jake Sim in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He completely forgot that Jake took this class, too. The cherry on top was that Jake and Seunghan decided to sit at the desk right behind Heeseung and Sungchan, so he could hardly focus on Sungchan rattling on about Trelawny giving him detention when he was trying his hardest to eavesdrop on Jake’s conversation.

Right when Heeseung heard Jake talking about something potentially dark and dangerous (buying a Pygmy Puff), Professor Weasley raised his wand to signal that he was starting class. 

He started discussing familial curses, which Heeseung found especially interesting because he had almost considered a career path as a Curse-Breaker. It was a dangerous line of work, according to Professor Weasley, who used to be one himself before the second wizarding war, but Heeseung thought it was an honorable job to help remove dangerous curses.

Professor Weasley decided to stray from his usual ‘partner up with the person next to you’ and instead asked everyone to practice the Shield Charm with another student who was sitting around them. This, in turn, made Heeseung’s heart drop to his stomach.

If Sungchan wasn’t an option, then Heeseung was hoping he could partner with Seunghan. He quite liked the Hufflepuff, despite him being friends with the public enemy named Jake Sim. Seunghan had always been fun to talk to, and they became closer in fifth year when they were both sent to the infirmary and had beds next to each other. Madam Pomfrey was eventually tired of the two boys practicing jinxes on each other. 

Sungchan and Seunghan partnered up almost immediately, and then the girl sitting in front of Heeseung had run off to her friend as soon as the words slipped from Professor Weasley’s mouth. There was no one else for him to turn to—no one but Jake.

“Do you have a partner yet?” Jake asked shyly, and Heeseung had to fight down a bitter retort; obviously he didn’t have a partner, or he would’ve gotten up by now. “We can practice together, if you want.”

Heeseung reluctantly got to his feet. “Sure.”

They were an odd pairing, for sure. Heeseung couldn’t help but feel awkward around Jake, and it seemed as if Jake felt the same way, even though he did his best to be overly-friendly. 

Jake decided to be the one defending himself first, so Heeseung was graced with the opportunity to cast offensive spells at him all he wanted. He was having far too much fun casting Expelliarmus and Stupefy at Jake and watching the Hufflepuff draw his wand up just in time to shield himself. 

“You’re really good at this!” Jake said, eyes wide with what Heeseung assumed was fear. “Do you duel often?”

“Not really,” he answered. “I just have good aim.”

“Quidditch.” He made the connection quickly with a far too happy look on his face. “I’ve seen you fly. You’re really good.”

Quit playing nice! Heeseung was yelling at him in his head. It was proving quite difficult to viciously attack the Hufflepuff while receiving compliments in return.

“Yeah?” Heeseung gritted his teeth. “Do you watch Y/N—Stupefy!—play?”

“Y/N?” Jake looked confused for a moment, but his smile never faltered. “Yeah, of course! I always support Hufflepuff.”

Oh, right. They were in the same house. Logically, this was where Heeseung should’ve backed off, but jealousy seized him by the throat and made his head go funny.

He sent another streak of orange light flying in Jake’s direction, aiming right for his perfect hair. Jake deflected it. 

“Anyway,” Jake continued as he started to get the hang of performing wandless magic, “you guys are playing against Gryffindor next, right? I really think Slytherin’s gonna win. I mean, you guys have such a strong team, and…” 

As he kept droning on about how great the Slytherin Quidditch team was, Heeseung couldn't help but feel a bit confused. He was here to intimidate the Hufflepuff, but now he felt like he was at some sort of meet and greet. Why was Jake so bent on praising the Slytherin team? Heeseung assumed that the whole incentive for Quidditch games was for house pride, but Jake seemed to be taking it way too seriously. 

Come to think of it, Heeseung did find it strange that Jake had that defamatory newspaper clipping of Heeseung injured on the ground. Why would he specifically go looking for an article of the Slytherin team’s victory?

Heeseung lowered his wand when he heard a yelp to his right. Hong Seunghan had his wand raised over his head, a nearly-invisible shield circling his body that Heeseung could vaguely make out under the lamp light. 

“Watch it! This isn’t target practice, Heeseung!” Seunghan cried, looking absolutely distressed as he hastily adjusted his yellow-trimmed robes.

Heeseung’s Stunning Spell would’ve hit Seunghan if he hadn’t reacted in time. On one hand, he felt bad; on the other hand, he really thought Seunghan should’ve been patting himself on the back for his quick reaction time instead.

“My bad,” Heeseung mumbled. So much for his so-called good aim.

“And you,” Seunghan said—to Jake, this time, “stop distracting him with all your Quidditch talk!” 

Yeah, you tell him, Seunghan, thought Heeseung, who actually quite enjoyed talking about Quidditch.

To his surprise, Jake’s face started to flush pink. “I-I’m not trying to distract him or anything… I was just making conversation.” 

Seunghan threw him a lazy smirk before turning back to Heeseung and rolling his eyes playfully. “Put him out of his misery and set him up with your friend, will you?” 

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from fuming at Seunghan’s words. The fire in his chest ignited once more, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns. 

Sungchan, who had been waiting patiently to attack Seunghan, rubbed the back of his neck. “Er—can we get back to—”

“Seunghan, drop it already,” Jake pleaded, his voice growing smaller and smaller. “It’s not happening.”

Seunghan shrugged and returned to blocking Sungchan’s attacks. The two of them seemed to be having fun with the exercise, at least. Heeseung and Jake were a disaster; Heeseung was far too vexed to think straight, and Jake was as bashful as a first year.

“You can ask her yourself, you know,” Heeseung said coldly, shooting a jet of red light in Jake’s direction. Jake barely managed to cast his shield in time to deflect Heeseung’s spell.

“I can’t,” Jake replied, all meek and timid again, which made Heeseung’s blood boil. 

He saw how comfortable Jake was around you, so why was he acting like this now? He was comfortable enough to walk up to you while you were with another guy; he was comfortable enough to keep eye contact while you smiled so radiantly at him; and he was comfortable enough to ask you to go to Hogsmede with him, so why was this such a big deal? 

Heeseung felt sick to his stomach. He wanted this class to be over so that he could go to his dormitory and wallow in his miserable state.

Jake sighed wistfully. “She probably has no idea I even exist.”

Heeseung blanked. 

He tossed around Jake’s words in his head a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Heeseung perfectly understood being shy around a crush, but wasn’t this a bit much? From what he had observed, you most definitely knew of Jake’s existence.

Still confused, Heeseung replied, “I’m pretty sure she does.”

“Really?” Jake’s voice was louder, more hopeful. “She does? I mean, I guess she has to know I exist since we’re in the same class and all, but has she… has she ever mentioned me?”

Heeseung wondered if he should just stun Jake and leave class early.

Deciding against it for the sake of not receiving another week of detention, he answered, “Well, yeah, a couple of times.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Uh…” Heeseung scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Something about telling you how I set off Dungbombs in Filch’s office.”

It was Jake’s turn to look confused. 

“That was Y/N,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wait, did you think I was talking about Y/N this whole time?”

Heeseung had to duck this time when his spell rebounded off of Jake’s shield and went flying in his direction. He stood up straight again, this time with his eyebrows furrowed and his ears bright red from realizing that he was about to embarrass himself yet again. 

“You’re not?” he asked.

“No!”

“Then who are you talking about?” 

“M-Minjeong,” Jake stammered out. “Kim Minjeong.”

Heeseung stared at him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if this was reality; this could have all been some hyper-realistic dream—one of those absurd ones that hardly made sense but left him gasping for air when he woke up. 

But Heeseung’s feet were planted firmly on the ground and he had all ten of his fingers, so this couldn’t be a dream. Yet, when he drew in a shuddering breath, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong about this whole thing. Had he really been wrong about Jake Sim this entire time?

Also Minjeong? When he was friends with you? Heeseung wasn’t one to judge people’s tastes, but he’d swim oceans for you yet hardly cross a puddle for Minjeong. (Perhaps that was just because he resented the Slytherin girl for always making fun of his Quidditch screw-ups.)

So that was why Jake had been overly-invested in the Slytherin team. He wasn’t a Quidditch-fanatic whose house pride flew out the window; he was just harboring a crush this whole time! Heeseung was so relieved that the inferno in his chest had quelled. 

In fact, he was so relieved that he let out a shaky laugh without having half the mind to hold it in. Jake must have thought Heeseung was making fun of his crush, but Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh and laugh about how pathetic he had been this whole time. He had lost sleep over Jake Sim, only for him to like someone completely different. 

How ridiculous.

Heeseung crossed the distance between them and patted him firmly on the back, taking the Hufflepuff by surprise. “Minjeong, huh? I’ll introduce you.”

Jake’s eyes shone. “You will?”

“Of course I will. Now, tell me,” Heeseung started, his voice taking on a serious edge as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders, “where did you get your robes?”

It was such a lovely day outside; the grass was greener, the skies were bluer, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight—perfect weather to fly. Heeseung could even hear the birds singing as he strode down the hallway, trying very, very hard to keep himself from skipping. 

He wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop, but he picked up on the conversation a couple of fifth years were having nearby.

"—heard they both had to go to the infirmary!” one of them whispered to the other. “It was that bad!”

“Over a silly game?” The other girl, who Heeseung named Girl Two in his head, scoffed. “I’ll never understand Quidditch.”

Girl One shook her head. “Not over the game. It was over Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung, who was slowly realizing that he was the Lee Heeseung they were gossiping about, suddenly felt very engaged in this conversation that he wasn’t part of. His guilty pleasure happened to be listening in on all of the scandalous happenings at Hogwarts. For him to be indirectly involved was even more exciting.

“Lee Heeseung?” Girl Two frowned. “Why would Y/N pick a fight over Lee Heeseung?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet. Heeseung had to scurry behind a pillar before anyone saw him blushing like a madman, but now he was worried about how strange it looked for him to be spying on a couple of fifth years from behind a pillar. 

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. You fought someone? And you were in the infirmary? His sick happiness was quickly replaced with dreadful worry. 

(But he also wasn’t too worried; you could clearly handle your own.)

“No clue,” Girl One said. “I suppose they’re dating.”

Heeseung couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out, and Girl One and Girl Two looked around suspiciously. 

“Who was that?” Girl Two asked sharply. 

“Must be that Ravenclaw girl,” Girl One replied bitterly, taking her wand out of her robes.

Heeseung had no idea who ‘that Ravenclaw girl’ was referring to, but he knew that he was no longer safe in their vicinity. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he fled the scene immediately, only removing the charm once he was safely down the hall. 

He hadn’t even realized his heart was racing faster than it ever had in his life until he found himself sprinting in the direction of the infirmary. 

“Mr. Lee, no running in the halls!” Professor Longbottom cried over his shoulder, gripping the pot of a Mandrake tightly. “That’ll be five points from—oh, forget it.”

Madam Pomfrey looked unsurprised to see Heeseung walking in, all sweaty and panting. She simply pointed in the direction of where your bed was and walked off to tend to some second year who, judging by the twigs in his hair, decided to test his luck with the Whomping Willow.

You were sulking in bed, turned on your side so that your back was facing Heeseung. It looked like you were mostly unscathed, but when Heeseung rounded the corner of your bed, all he could see was red when he noticed the cut on your lip and gash on your cheek. 

“Heeseung!” you gasped, sitting up straight so that you could swing your legs off the bed. “How’d you know—”

“Who did this?” he asked angrily, drawing out his wand and looking around the infirmary. He remembered Girl One saying that both parties were sent to the infirmary, so they must have still been around. “Who hurt you?”

“It’s not that bad, I just—”

“Not that bad?” he repeated louder. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s not that bad,” you said again, quieter. You held onto Heeseung’s bicep with gentle hands, which happened to immediately calm him down. “Sit.”

Heeseung sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. He had felt remarkably happier after finding out that Jake did not, in fact, have a thing for you, but now he was riled up again. He wondered what you thought about Jake, but then Heeseung wondered why you were picking fights over him.

“It was the Seeker from the Gryffindor team,” you told him in an oddly calm voice, although he couldn’t help but notice how you were fiddling with your fingers too much. “She was talking down on you during class, so I picked an argument with her after class. That’s how I got these.” You pointed at the cuts on your lower lip and cheek. 

“But you don’t need to worry about her; she’s worse off than I am. I got her with a knee-reversal hex,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Let’s see how she flies after this.”

Heeseung stared at you. “You’re insane.”

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank—”

“I love you.”

He believed he said it very, very softly, but his words echoed in his head so loudly that Heeseung couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t yelled it for the infirmary to hear. If it weren’t for the second year complaining loudly about how unsafe it was to have a murderous tree on school grounds, then Heeseung was sure the room would have been dead silent following his confession. 

You didn’t move. The worst was happening right now; Heeseung had boldly blurted out his feelings just for you to not answer him and soon hate him for the rest of your life. It was fine. You two would graduate soon. He would no longer have to see you again, even though the smell of lavender would be a constant reminder of his first love and first heartbreak. He would die alone now. Oh, and he’d have to tell his parents with deep regret that they would not have grandchildren. 

“Heeseung,” you whispered, and your lips started framing soundless words that you couldn’t get out.

The cat was out of the bag, so all Heeseung could do was stand up and own up to his words.

“You were right,” he said. “My Amortentia did smell like lavender—like you.”

He grabbed the rag on the table next to your bed, soaking it in water and wringing it out. Normally, Heeseung would have been shaking like a leaf, but he was oddly calm as he delicately held your chin, tilting your head to the side enough to get a good look at you. 

“I must’ve fallen in love with you years ago—maybe even from the first time you tripped me at the Sorting Hat Ceremony,” he said softly as he dabbed at your fresh cut, and although your eyes were wide and glossy, you hardly even flinched. Heeseung was pretty sure he had never even admitted what he said out loud to himself. When he was done and set the rag aside, he said, “So… glad I got that out before I kept it to myself for the rest of my life. I’ll get going now and hopefully not kill myself on the way.”

He hurried past Madam Pomfrey, making eye contact with no one except the Gryffindor Seeker, whose knees were bent at an awkward angle. She leered at him, to which Heeseung paid no attention because he had far bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his life was over.

Before he got all the way down the hall, though, he heard footsteps getting louder and louder. When he turned to see you speeding after him, Heeseung panicked and started running himself. 

“Why are you running?!” you cried.

“Why are you chasing me?!” he yelled back. 

“Stop running! Get over here, Lee Heeseung!”

“No!” He was very embarrassed to note that his voice did indeed crack. “I’m scared!”

“Colloshoo!” 

It was like he had rammed right into a wall. Heeseung felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, and, with a grunt, he ended up falling forward and landing on his face when they wouldn’t budge. If only you had waited to hex him after he reached the grassy outdoors instead of the hard, stone flooring of the breezeway. 

“You hexed me!” He turned to look at you, exasperated. “How could you hex me after hexing someone for me?!”

“Now stay there.”

“No.” Stubborn, Heeseung started walking ahead—right down to the Great Lake so that he could wallow in embarrassment in that particularly nice patch of grass. He abandoned his shoes and trudged ahead in his socks. “And don’t follow me!”

“Heeseung,” you warned. 

He groaned and turned on you just before he was looking forward to sitting down on the grass, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You—you’re terrible luck, you know that? Sheer bad luck. You know I’ve lived eleven years of my life perfectly fine until you showed up? Suddenly, everything goes wrong when I’m around you! And it’s not just missing the Hogwarts Express or blowing up a potion, it’s everything else!”

You calmly listened to him as he continued in his wild craze, “I can hardly breathe when I’m around you! I can’t even look at you for too long, or else I’ll probably combust. You make it so impossible for me to stay away from you, even though the very thing I need for the sake of my sanity is to stay away from you!”

“Are you done now?” you asked calmly, not quite breathing as hard as he was, but your chest was still rising and falling as if you were winded from running. 

“Yes,” he said, “so I’ll go drown myself in the—”

Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, you grabbed Heeseung by the front of his robes and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He thought he had been hit with a Stunning Spell from how still he was, but when he realized that this was real life and you were indeed kissing him, his hand made its way to cradle your jaw as he kissed you back with searing passion.

He was ashamed to say that he had dreamt about this scenario many times, charted all of his next moves in great detail, and fantasized about doing much more than he’d like to admit. Heeseung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he kept his lips pressed to yours like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 

This was everything and more than he ever expected. He was certain he could never grow tired of the taste of your lips, and he was honestly scolding himself for not having done this sooner. 

Your arms naturally found their way around his neck, and Heeseung took that as his cue to drop his to your waist. Still locked in a tight embrace, you pulled away to catch your breath, leaving Heeseung to chase after your lips.

“—Great Lake,” he finished his sentence in a breath, “and hopefully get eaten by the Giant Squid—”

“Oh, shut up,” you cut him off to kiss him again. 

Heeseung had no further objections. He supposed this meant that he had the shiny new title of being your boyfriend, which he considered a higher honor than Quidditch Captain. This was saying a lot because Quidditch Captains got to use the really nice bathrooms.

Your kiss was slower this time, as if you both realized you had all the time in the world. And when you both finally broke apart, Heeseung let his fingers trace the outline of your lips to commit its shape to memory. 

This time when you smiled, it was far brighter than any Patronus Charm he had ever seen.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a shy grin. “Always have.” 

“Seriously?”

“Since our first year. Tripping you was by accident, of course. I just thought you were cute.” 

Heeseung was pretty sure the average wizard's heart couldn’t handle this overload of emotions. In a few seconds, he was sure he would need to be admitted to the infirmary himself. 

Then, you punched his shoulder. Hard.

“If you didn’t Disapparate on the spot back in Hogsmede, then maybe I could've told you sooner!” 

“It’s not like I wanted to Apparate away, but… but you put me on the spot!” he exclaimed. Heeseung let his shoulders sag. “Either way, I thought you liked Jake.”

“Jake?” You looked confused before you burst into laughter. “What made you think I liked Jake? He’s so clearly into Minjeong!”

It seemed to be that everyone thought the notion of Jake and you liking each other was absolutely ridiculous. If it wasn’t too late, Heeseung was up for pitching himself in the depths of the Great Lake.

Girl One and Girl Two would surely get a kick out of this. 

“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he said, but you wouldn't stop laughing. Heeseung sighed heavily as you wiped tears from the corners of your eyes. “Alright, that’s it, you’re so getting it.”

This time, he grabbed hold of your face (gently, of course, because he didn't want to add pressure to your gash), and he peppered kisses all over your face. You scrunched up your nose, giggling as Heeseung kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then finally your lips. 

And this—this moment he had been anticipating for seven years—was loads better than letting the Giant Squid eat him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ the next morning, heeseung wakes up and basks in the afterglow of finally confessing to the girl of his dreams!! jay hands him the paper during breakfast and a picture of his shoes glued to the floor is on the front cover. anyways i hope you liked this fic!! so fun to write because i'm deep in a harry potter phase (how did this happen??) but happy valentine's day & thank you for reading <3

FIC TAG LIST ▸ @jakeslvt @520studio @jlheon @enha-stars @leep0ems @velvtcherie @woninluv @jaeyunluvr @hotsforikeu @skzenhalove @baevsxii @alyssajavenss @lovialy @loljaeyunz

Wooyoung hated this part of the job, ever since he had joined the force, he had wanted to do nothing but good, but here he was in the late hours of the night in a mansion that belonged to one of the many corrupt political figures that ruled the land. He had begged Captain Park not to put him on night parole, even insisted on doing all the paperwork for everyone, including the slacker Mingi, but the captain was in no mood for negotiation, instead, he had told him the sergeant would accompany him.

Truth be told, the officer was afraid of the sergeant, he had heard great stories about the man, and the first time the young officer had laid eyes on the mountain of a man, he began to believe the rumours. From his well-built body to his feline mannerism, the way he would walk with an air of pride around him, forcing those around to bow in respect, or fear, either way, it didn’t matter because Wooyoung knew one thing for sure- he wanted to be like Sergeant Choi. Due to this very reason, he had agreed to attend this nuisance of an event, a masquerade ball for the elite, filled with all activities which would be illegal if one were poor or even middle class. What confused him, however, was why the Sergeant had agreed to conduct this trivial task. Captain Park had mentioned how he had volunteered himself, even bringing the blueprints of the mansion and the surrounding gardens, speaking with the security teams at the place of function as well- trivial tasks that are often left to juniors like Wooyoung, so why was his superior doing all these things himself?

“Officer Jung, do you copy?”

The static voice rang in his ear, yes, they were given the state-of-the-art technology just for this freak show, the budget the Department of Defence was given had their captain shaking in his boots, which would explain why he was hell-bent on using every penny to the most ‘professional’ manner.

“Yes, Sergeant, loud and clear.”

“Good, the east wing is clear, I’m leaving the man ballroom now.”

“West wing is clear too, Sir.”

“Heading North, to the main gate. Keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Heading to the greenhouse at the back Sir.”

With that Wooyoung slowly started to walk down the stairs and out into the open, taking a deep breath, the crisp, chill of the night prickling against his warm skin, a shiver running down his spine, he thanked heaven that they were allowed to wear civilian clothes, San had insisted that it would be safer for them and the visitors this way. Ironically, he had chosen to wear a leather jacket, much like his superior, guess he had his boss somewhat figured out at such a quick pace- he really was smart, wasn’t he? Pulling the leather jacket closer to his form, he looked around the luxurious lawn, it was indeed pretty, with a variety of trees and flowers that one would only see in books or the internet, most of the species were not even native, but then again, then again, certain laws of physics or nature do not apply to the rich.

He was glad it was quiet though, a few more hours and this shit show would be finished by midnight, which meant he could go home in peace, and possibly expect some form of praise in the morning from his superiors. Speaking of superiors, he didn’t know much about the Sergeant, only that he was cold and ruthless, and incredibly gifted in the department of looks- apparently was smart too, and that he had a blackbelt- okay so maybe Wooyoung did know a lot about him, but it was all so textbook. He had no personal details on the man, only one thing, that he was married- but that was because of his wedding band that he saw the Sergeant wear in a makeshift necklace. The wedding band wasn’t even on his finger, and the only way he had seen the necklace was when the man had taken off his jacket, the ring toppled onto his shirt, earning a low groan from the man, though Wooyoung’s eyes quickly scanned the item, a simple silver band, hanging from a silver chain. He watched his superior gently tuck it back into his shirt, pressing it against himself for a quick second before sighing, as if he was afraid, he had almost lost it. That was the only glimpse Officer Jung had gotten of his superior that was not consistent with the rumours of his ruthless stature.

Opening the door to the greenhouse he stepped in, the strong scent of herbs hitting his nostrils, making his nose itch. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he walked down the isle of potted parsley and mint, looking around for anything suspicious, not that there would be anything there. Or so he thought, for the moment he stood at the heart of the glass building, looking around with his hand on his hips, and he heard a little chime- a cat? No, this place was locked and he made sure to close the door behind him, he was sure of it, which is why he was about to dismiss the noise until he heard it again.

Slowly making his way to the source of the sound, he reached for his gun, being as quiet as possible, spotting a silhouette near the roses, and pointing his gun at the intruder he cleared his throat before ordering;

“Freeze! Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”

He was ready, he was oh so ready to prove to his superiors that he was well deserving of that promotion, he was ready to take down this- woman? He was not ready for this, visibly swallowing at the sight before him he tried to not look at anything but the kitsune mask of the woman.

“Miss, are you here by accident or…”

“Oh, honey if you think only men are criminals, then you are part of the problem.” her red lips stretched into a cocky smile, shifting as she leaned against the stand, the slit of her red satin dress shifting, showing a bit more leg than what Wooyoung would consider modest, though his glance served to be more useful than perverted, the silly little shiny pistol hooked to her black net garter caught his eye, the ribbons of the material gripping onto the gun.

“Eyes up here sweetie, my husband wouldn’t appreciate other men ogling at me like this.”

“Cut the crap,” spitting he aimed at her, “Take off the mask and get down on your knees.”

“Kinky.” Was all she said before something smacked against Wooyoung’s hand like a sharp slap, stinging his wrist his gun fell to the ground as he groaned, glaring up at the smirking woman who winked at him, finally noticing the black leather whip in her hand- did they even make whips this long?

He was about to reach for his gun on the ground before it was kicked away, her heel pressing against the back of his hand, “You’re cute, I’ll give you that, but I don’t have much time, cutie.”

Wooyoung was about to tackle her, only for her to smack him across the face with the back of her hand, the rings on her fingers stinging like hell as she made a run for it, laughing like a mad woman, her chuckles echoing across the greenhouse. Growling in frustration he grabbed his gun and ran after her, he knew he couldn’t shoot around like a madman, one shot would be enough, but the leg? No, she’d bleed out. The shoulder? He was hot on her tail, the red dress hard to miss, along with the sound of the bells hanging off the tussles of her mask, his fingers just grazed her dress before she took a sharp right.

“Shit” following after he stumbled behind the shelf, only to stop at the sight before him. The woman was pinned to the ground, her wrists pinned above her head, San’s grip tight as he watched her struggle under him.  “She has…a gun” Panting Wooyoung pointed at the now fully exposed leg, her dress had bunched up against her waist as the Sergeant’s lower half kept her legs apart, his free hand reaching for the gun, though Wooyoung could swear his boss was taking his sweet time, he could swear his boss was caressing the woman’s leg, somewhat toying with the garter before ripping it off her, earning a squeak from her followed by a whine.

“Enough.” His voice boomed, gripping her face he squished her cheeks hard, staring down at her, as she instantly stilled, looking up at him, not moving an inch. It was as if she was wired to his command- to have authority such as Sergeant Choi’s would be a dream come true for Wooyoung.

“Did you grab the kitty’s tail?”

“The what?”

“The whip Officer Jung, she calls it the kitty’s tail- you didn’t read the report last week, did you?”

“I umm- I’ll go get it, sir.” With that he ran back to the original scene of the crime, acquiring the whip that she had dropped on the way, probably while running away from him. When he had come back, San was locking her handcuffs, his rough movements causing her to wince, but when he tightened it against her wrist, she whimpered- and that is when he saw his superior freeze for a second, and if it were not for his cunning fox-like observation skills, he would’ve missed how San’s eyes had softened, his hand that was on the cuff loosened its grip, “Let’s go.” That was all he said before leading the two out the back entrance, claiming that the event was already over anyway and that they had to report to no one about their departure.

.

He glanced back at the woman in handcuffs, chin in palm as she admired the view outside. It was now that he got a good look at her, with her mask in her lap, she was beautiful, no, the word beautiful did not do her justice, so why was a woman as pretty as her involved in something as ugly as this? Wooyoung frowned when San took the turn to exit, unsure of what his superior was doing

"Sergeant Choi, I think you took a wrong-"he was cut off, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, the lady still sitting in the same position, but her question caught him extremely off guard.

"Sannie, will you be home for dinner tonight? "

Did she just call him Sannie? Though San remained as nonchalant as well, "I didn't Wooyoung, don't worry." he answered only his junior ignoring the woman, this was the first time he had addressed Wooyoung by his name, what exactly was going on? Glancing at the side view mirror, San raised an eyebrow at her, she was sitting right behind the driver's seat, his seat, watching her pout and look at him through the reflection. A small whine made its way through the silent car.

"Come on Sannie~ you can't gimme the silent treatment forever?"

"Detective Jung?" his tone extremely authoritative and hard, earning a flinch from his junior, though the lady behind him just shivered, with something other than fear.

"S-sir its officer, the detective exam’s results aren’t out yet”

“You’ve passed Wooyoung.” He sighed, gripping onto the wheel a bit harder, as he pressed on the gas.

“Sir I- how, how do you know that?” he should have just been happy at the knowledge of his new title, but curiosity always got the better of this foxie, always wanting to know the answer behind the whys and the hows.

“I checked the exams- why do you think Seonghwa sent you with me tonight? They don’t send just anyone with me to such a high-profile case?”

“N-no Sir I-

Once again, he was cut off by a bratty whine, only this time she leaned forward, shifting so she was in between the two seats, her upper body leaning against the gearbox, turning to look at the Sergeant who did not glance away from the road;

“Sannie~ It’s been a week, this isn’t fair.”

"Wooyoung, open the glove compartment, there's a roll of tape there." he gestured to the glove compartment, "Tape her mouth shut for me, would ya."

"Sir!?"

"Sannie~ wait, hear me out-eep" she yelped almost as loud as the screech of the brakes, falling back as her back hit the leather with a thump, Wooyoung's own heart made its way to his mouth, ready to jump out in fear.

"Wooyoung. Tape. Her. Mouth."

As his junior fumbled with the glove compartment the Sergeant parked the car in a secluded area off the road, getting off and slamming the door shut. Wooyoung gulped as he noticed his superior’s body language, he had never seen him like this, what was he going to do with her? Should he save the woman? Were the rumours about him being a ruthless killer of ‘criminals’ going to be proven true after what he was going to do to this woman? Swinging open the car door from her side he pulled her out by her wrist, noting how she winced and looked up at him, "Sannie…you're hurting me." This caused his grip to loosen, though not enough to let go, not that she had any plans of escaping, his cold hard glare was enough to have her rooted at the spot, fumbling with her words- extremely out of character.

He had had enough of this, tonight was too close to be just a risk, she was lucky he was there, there was no way Seonghwa would let her go, and if this was some kind of sick trick to get his attention, he wasn’t interested in it, nor was he going to entertain it.

"San, I swear I was wearing my mask I-"

Her words were cut off by the sudden pressure of his lips, his body pressed flush against hers, pressing it against the car door. Her cuffed hands gripped onto his jacket and pulled him ever closer as his hand at the base of her neck gave her a little squeeze as if warning her to not test him, though a muffled giggle broke past her lips as he slowly parted, the hand on her waist pressing into her. She didn’t care about how rough he was being or how he wasn’t even crouching down properly to meet her halfway, having her stand on her toes just to feel him close, she didn’t care because at least he was giving it to her now, his attention. With their foreheads pressed together, he gazed down at her gentle features portraying nothing but innocence- false innocence, but the sincerity in her eyes was what always had his knees buckling. The sincerity of love that she had for him, letting him catch her every time, letting him into her world, into her life- truth be told it wasn't her who fell into his trap, but it was him who was wrapped around her pinkie.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, "Ummm…" Extremely baffled by what had just broken out, he had not just seen his superior fully make out with a criminal- was this legal? Well, technically no- wait was this harassment? Or no, she did call him Sannie, did they know each other?

With a slight chuckle, she stood on the tip of her toes to peck her lover's cheek, "Didn't know you were into that stuff…the audience turning you on huh, never knew my husband was so kinky?"

In an instant the tape was snatched from Wooyoung's hand and smacked across her pretty red lips as she stared at him wide-eyed, a bit confused, a bit scared, but oh so in love.

"Be a good little wife and stay quiet, no need to traumatise my junior even more than you already have."

With that he forced her back inside the car and went to sit on his seat, leaving a sweaty-palmed Wooyoung standing there in complete, utter shock - possibly turned on too- wait- WIFE? Suddenly her statement about her husband rang in his ears, she had mentioned a husband before- was he? Was this man an enemy of the law or a loyal servant of the law? Wooyoung stood there grounded, confused about what to do and what had just happened. Perhaps he had stood there a bit too long, clenching and unclenching his sweaty fists but the driver's door opened again, causing him to flinch, unsure if he was about to move to the car or reach for his gun, he wasn't sure but before he could decide his senior opened the backdoor. He watched another scene of confusion unfold before him, San shrugged off his jacket, and crouched down into the car, placing it over her torso, and tucking it around her upper body, "There, now you're all warm."

Wooyoung was dead sure he heard San chuckle, but the muffled whining was louder. Standing up straight he closed the car door and turned to look at Wooyoung, his white T-shirt clinging onto his well-built frame, the ring in his necklace glimmering under the streetlight. Just who was this man?

"Wooyoung, if you aren't comfortable with this I-"

Huffing the junior stomped to the other side of the car, slamming the door shut. Shaking his head in defeat San let out an airy chuckle, staring up at the stars, "Man, I just attract brats, I'm sure of it."

.

"You know…this is illegal right?"

They had been driving in silence for almost thirty minutes before Wooyoung had decided to slice the tension. What bothered him more was how it was only he who could feel this tension, the lady at the back was literally snoring away in wonderland and his boss was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other was resting on the armrest, casually drumming against the material.

"Hmmm? What is?"

"This. She's a criminal! We literally caught her-"

"Doing what? Looking at flowers? In a mask? It was a masquerade ball, Detective." he sighed, already using the new title for his junior, who hissed in disapproval, who was this man, where was the man of great stature and moral value that he looked up to since his trainee days.

"You know what I mean, you're becoming an accomplice to a crime and-"

"Then report me Wooyoung." he slammed the brakes, causing the younger one to squeak, holding onto the handle, thanking God that he was wearing a seatbelt, his eyes wide with fear as he looked at his superior staring dead ahead as he mumbled, "Report me if you must, but I'd be damned if any of you try to lay a finger on her again."

"Again? What do you mean-"

Once again, he was left hanging as the man got out of the car slamming his door shut, the entire car swaying in the process. He turned to look at him again when the back door opened, though he noticed the way the woman shook her head and scooted away from him, causing him to sigh, he looked so…defeated. Was she scared of him? Wooyoung's eyes flickered to the woman, his profiler skills on overdrive, what if he read it wrong, what if he was supposed to save this woman from the sergeant? He noted the way her eyes had watered, tears threatening to slip at any given moment, waiting for the last push- he still wasn't sure about their dynamics, what if none of this was consensual? She kept on pulling back until her back pressed against the door, legs pulled closer to her chest as she shook her head, heavy tears dripping down her cheeks, her mascara running like a stream, her entire form shaking, her sobs muffled by the tape- this was not the woman who had smacked him across the face, this was not the woman who had stomped her heel on his hand, this was but a mere broken, scared little girl.

"Sir-" For the third time tonight Wooyoung had reached for his gun, ready to shoot anyone who he thought was suspicious at this point.

"I won't go…I promise I won’t, he explained it to me and I- f*ck I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." His head hung in disappointment, eyes not even meeting hers, palms pressing on the seat, “I’m staying, I swear I won’t leave again.” He whispered reaching for her once more, his hand resting on her ankle, thumb stroking the skin, Wooyoung noticed the way she visibly relaxed a bit, manoeuvring to let him pull her out, he reached for her cuffed hands, pulling them over his head, their faces inches away from each other as he gave her a gentle, dimpled smile- that was new. What he did not expect was for San to completely ignore him, as the Sergeant pulled out his wife in one swift motion, holding onto her bridal style as her muffled squeak echoed across the empty street, followed by his laugh.

He kicked the door open, smiling at the little meow that resonated across the empty hallway, coming to greet her parents, she had indeed spent a week with her distressed mother and in the absence of her father, especially after witnessing the two in a full-blown argument, must have scared the little fur ball.

“Byeol, didn’t I tell you to watch mommy, while I was away?” he called out to the cat that walked beside him, making sure to rub against his leg as he slowly sat her down on the couch, reaching to scratch his baby’s head, only to stop when she gently tugged at the ends of his hair, before her fingers slowly caressed the nape of his neck, arms still looped around his shoulders. He glanced up at her sheepishly, smiling at her, “Sorry, forgot about that,” reaching up he reached for the tape, “I’ll go slow, okay?” nodding at him she looked at him determined, and ready. He did it slowly, making sure he caused minimal pain, and glad he kept the paper tape in the car, usually for their little activities, any other tape would’ve hurt more.

Sighing she licked her dry lips, looking down at her lover, “Won’t you kiss me?” she whispered before turning her head to look at the newcomer, as soon as Byeol hissed, “Nevermind, officer cramped-undies is here, he’s allergic to love.” she mumbled, glaring at Wooyoung who was glaring back at her with the same intensity.

Shaking his head at the two San pulled her arms over his head, undoing her cuffs, and tossing them away somewhere, the clinking of the metal attracting the cat that went running across the room to it. Grabbing her right hand he hummed, gently applying pressure, taking in her reaction, “Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, Sannie.” She smiled, placing her left hand over his, “I’ve been through worse.” Wooyoung noticed the way he froze at her words, his smile turning into a deep frown, glaring at the ground for a split second before shaking his head, and looking up at her with a gentle smile, “I’ll be back.” With that he stood up, gesturing to Wooyoung to follow him as the two made their way into the kitchen, that was across the hall. Wooyoung stood next to the marble island in the centre of the dark kitchen, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, watching his superior rummage through the cabinets mumbling stuff, “Ah…I told her not to change the place…tsk…this woman never listens to me…where are you…hah! Gotcha.” Like a cat filled with pride and glee after catching a mouse, he turned around with shining eyes, only to pause when he realised it was not his wife, he had turned to but his junior who wore an extremely sour expression, with the whole blank eyes and deep frown, the complete look.

Clearing his throat San looked at him, nodding as if he were grateful to his junior for not reporting him- yet. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow before pulling up the Kitsune Mask, “Care to explain?” his voice held a certain edge to it, more importantly, San knew that wasn’t a question, but an order- wow, he really did attract brats.

“I…” sighing in defeat he nodded, before gesturing to his face, “Apply this, it’ll stop the bruising, just let me patch her up first and…try to get along with her, she’s just been on edge today.” He mumbled walking out of the kitchen after placing a tube of ointment on the counter beside Wooyoung, who scoffed, she was his wife, not Wooyoung’s so why was he supposed to bear her tantrums?

San walked into the living room where she was trying to undo the strings of her heels with one hand, grumbling at the way she had tightened the knots. Placing the medicine box beside her on the couch, he gently pulled away her hand, mumbling a ‘let me’ before his nimble fingers began to work on the knots and strings, “Running in heels is dangerous.” He concluded, taking off her heels and placing them beside him, his baby girl had expensive taste, that was for sure, much like her psychotic brother- biology be damned.

“Are you going to be in trouble Sannie?” she asked, eying Wooyoung who had sat across the three-seater on the opposite loveseat, watching the scene unfold with a blank stare, honestly at this point, he was somewhat intrigued by the way his boss was swooning over his wife, the delicate intimacy making him a bit jealous due to the lack of a partner in his life. Morally, he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore, but this was a side of the Sergeant he had been dying to see, so who was he to deny the favour God had bestowed upon him?

“I don’t think so,” he muttered, opening the box to pull out her makeup wipes, he pulled one out, reaching for her face with his other hand, cupping her cheek, eyes instinctively closing, "But I swear you're in so much trouble." His warning had her eyes snapping open with a pout, though he clicked his tongue and grunted, "Hold still, close your eyes." But she grabbed his hand, staring at it, before meeting his eyes, "Your…ring…You took it off- I- did I- You- I mean we-" her breath hitched, another wave of nausea hit her, the all too familiar ringing in her ears resurfacing. "Hey- no, no, no love, look at me." He gently patted her cheek with the wet tissue, the hand she was holding onto rubbed soothing circles on her thigh, "I didn't remove it, just wore it here" Pulling back he plucked out the necklace from under his shirt, "See, " holding the chain up for her to see, the ring dangling off it, "Just kept it hidden, to keep you safe, okay? You're okay, I'm okay….we're okay." he whispered back, bringing her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her palm, watching her sniffle, "Now, close your eyes, no more crying, or I swear I'll cry", waiting for her to follow instructions, glad when she did, with that, he gently began to clean up the streaks of mascara and residue of her makeup, hand working like clockwork, impressing Wooyoung, much like how he had handled her panic attack- what exactly was going on here, how did San know what to do? Had he perhaps done this before? Why did the sight before him make him feel like he was intruding on something personal, should he leave?

"Wooyoung?" his mental debate came to a halt when his superior called him, looking at his broad back, his face still turned to his wife, smiling up at her, as she looked down at him. She was…beautiful- no, she was charming, her freshly cleaned skin radiating with an alluring glow, almost inviting- was she a siren?

"Wooyoung, if you're done staring at my wife like a perverted teenager-"

"Sannie" she stopped him, as soon as she noticed how the younger one was blushing, clearing his throat as he looked everywhere but at the couple.

"I.I wasn't Sir- I-"

"The ointment." was all San, craning his neck to glare at the man, his eyes cold and hard, swirling with jealousy- possessive huh?

"Yes, sorry, here." scurrying over to the couch he placed it in San's open palm, pausing to glance at his wife- wanting to get a closer look at what may have been his first and only interaction with an angel. Sergeant Choi did strike a deal with lady luck on this one, her features were not only soft and delicate, much like her gentle gaze, especially how she was staring down at her husband with endearment that had him almost vomiting, but her overall persona had changed, not like the devious little being he had encountered at the greenhouse.

"There." Pulling on a cute bow he looked up at her with a smile, "Go change, dinners on me tonight." Standing up straight he side-eyed Wooyoung who stumbled back at the sudden proximity of the taller man, he didn't realise he was standing so close to the two. Cupping her face his thumbs caressed the swollen area of her undereye, her eyes closing at the gesture, nodding when we whispered gently "Go."

With that she was gone, leaving the two men alone, Wooyoung standing there looking somewhat guilty- even though he wasn't part of any of the crimes committed tonight.

"Come on, you want chicken flavour or cheese-flavoured ramen?" San asked, calling him over his shoulder earning a sound of disapproval from his junior, "What?"

"You're going to feed your wife instant ramen?"

"I was going to feed you too, but if you'd rather be ungrateful then who am I to force you."

"Sir?"

"What?"

"Let me cook. Please."

That's how Choi San found himself sitting at the barstool at the kitchen island, somewhat glad how big it was, his wife was right, the bigger the better- for kitchen appliances, mind you. On the opposite end of the countertop, Wooyoung was silently chopping vegetables, done with carrots, green onions and now the cabbage, this couple ate well, and had good taste in produce as well- Wow Jung Wooyoung, so much for begging God to let you know more about your boss, should've asked for something else instead, like a million bucks or something.

San admired the way the younger man was working, he knew Wooyoung was a hard worker, but his skill and expertise amazed him, also made him realise he attracted brats, but those brats knew how to cook.

"Who is she?" Wooyoung asked, sliding the diced cabbage into the strainer, "What are you involved in please tell me now, I'm at the ripe age of my youth so I can jump careers unlike you-"

"I'm literally only three years older than you."

"My point exactly."

Shaking his head in disbelief San signed, resting his chin on his palm, "You really are something else, huh?"

"I've been called worse, Sir."

"She's…Kim Hongjoong's sister." he began only to stop when Wooyoung slammed the butcher knife onto the board, "THE KIM HONGJOONG? HEAD OF MATZ? THE SOLAR DRAGON? THE MAN WHO KILLS WITH JUST HIS GAZE??? THE SAME MAN YOU ARRESTED- how- HOW DID YOU GET HIS SISTER TO MARRY YOU?" His shrilly voice echoed around the kitchen as San rubbed his temples, God was testing him today.

"First of all, yes, not biological, the two grew up at the same orphanage and secondly, I did arrest him but no one knows she's his self-proclaimed sister- well, other than Seonghwa" he mumbled, pulling off his necklace and staring at the ring,  "I remember being like you, believing in the system, believing in the goodness of people, that those who are innocent are never wronged- I was a fool, this entire system is whack and for some reason, fate decided to send me a stray that was abused enough to convince me about how wrong I was."

Wooyoung watched him in silence, placing the dirty dishes in the sink as he turned on the electric stove, "I… see." was all he said, waiting for the water to boil, "Do you have garlic paste?"

"In the fridge, I think." San pointed at the fridge before sighing, "How much do you know about Hongjoong's mission?"

Opening the fridge the man stared at the neatly stacked containers of food, all untouched, if San didn't come home for a week, why was there so much food there? Was she…waiting for him? Making him dinner every night? The knot in his stomach twisted a bit too tight as he sighed, closing the fridge, “You were undercover for a year, by the end of it, you captured the Matz leader and most of the gang."

"Did you know Kim Hongjoong came to me himself?"

"What?"

"Exactly," exhaling he pulled the ring out of the chain, slipping it back on his finger, all snug, where it belonged, "I started the mission as an undercover agent. I was part of an underground fight club, one of the many Hongjoong owns- Django." he nodded to Wooyoung who was adding strips of meat to the bowling broth, "It was fine, the usual bullshit, took me a few months to even get recognition, but one thing was for sure, everyone feared Hongjoong, everyone but one person- his advisor."

"And… that was her?" he asked, deciding to take out the side dishes she had packed away in the fridge.

"Yeah…" Reaching for the mask he admired the details, memories flooding back, "We never saw her face, this mask was who she was, she was quick and agile as a cat, but Hongjoong's favourite. She was also my meal ticket to her brother. After a match I was about to leave when I heard a scuffle, honestly, I was going to leave but the bell" Shaking the mask the bell resonated in the kitchen, and the only other sound present was of the boiling broth, "I knew it was her so I went to check, a few guys had cornered her, I don't know why, maybe she was tired that day, maybe they were physically stronger, but while one held onto her the other reached for her mask and that's when I snapped, all I remember was my hands were bloody and before I knew it I was being taken to meet Hongjoong."

"You saved her?" he asked, as he opened a few cabinets, before looking at San who pointed at the one at the far right, "Plates and bowls are there. Cutlery is in the drawer." With a thankful nod, Wooyoung motioned him to continue.

"Yeah, I did. I was assigned as her bodyguard. I wanted to be Hongjoong's but usually, where you'd find her, you'd find Hongjoong and the other way round." he took a deep breath, “Either way, I realised this little cat burglar was more than just a petty thief, she was his eyes and ears, his map maker, she was Hongjoong’s prized possession. I gained a good number of business details, the only problem was that I also began to learn about her, and how she’d be at school during the day- only a handful of people had seen her face and somehow, I had made it to the list.” Chuckling he placed the mask down, looking at Wooyoung who was busy setting the cutlery, “the first time I had seen her without her mask, I swear I froze up, I never thought I was religious but when I saw her, her gentle eyes to the slope of her nose to her flushed cheeks, I was sure of one thing, God really did make angels and I had just seen one in the flesh.” Wooyoung paused at the statement, only mere minutes ago he had held the same sentiments, but something else got to him too, which he bluntly put forth, “You fell for her?”

“Hard…I fell hard.”

“So …did you like…”

“No” he shook his head, “I was a hot-headed officer on my way to a promotion, like hell, I was going to give in to her, I entertained her fantasies but…never took any advantage of her, she made it difficult though,” he chuckled before sighing when Wooyoung sat down across him, plating the dishes, “I was at the precinct one-night when Hongjoong came over, offered a deal, he said, and I quote;

‘Congrats f*cker, you have my sister wrapped around your finger and she won’t let me make an example out of you, so I come with a deal, take me in- but remove her from all your papers, she never existed- ya got me?’

I didn’t think Seonghwa would agree, but even Sergeant Park Seonghwa was looking for a promotion, so we agreed, The next day we raided the HQ and got a good chunk of their top men, including Hongjoong and she was nowhere near in sight.”

“So you married her after?” Wooyoung asked, placing a bowl of rice in front of San who shook his head.

“No, I hated her, I felt like it was wrong, even if she wasn’t directly involved, she was being protected by the law. But who was I to argue? I remember, a few weeks later she came to see me at the precinct, I remember ignoring her and walking out, she literally followed after me, told me she was going to start on a clean slate, and that she could change for me.” He sighed, staring at his soup, cabbage soup, wow, maybe he should invite Wooyoung over more, “I feel like that was my fault because the very moment I told her that the sight of her disgusted me, every inch of my being hated her- she looked…so scared that night like she had lost her purpose.”

Frowning at him Wooyoung mumbled, “But…she wanted to change!”

“I know, I was a d*ck, I was arrogant, the youngest detective in the precinct, the golden boy, and she did change, went to school regularly, got her degree, hell she even got a decent job- she approached me again after that,” he sighed, before reaching to grab her plate, adding a good portion of rice and meat.

“Did you…you know, accept it?” Wooyoung asked before stuffing his face with the kimchi his wife had prepared for him, man an angel that can cook.

“No.” placing her plate down San glanced at the clock, she was gone for almost 40 minutes, must’ve been in the tub, “Worse, I led her to the worst night of her life, I broke her. We met at a club, by accident of course, I never went to clubs anyway, but when I got promoted to Sergeant, Seonghwa was simultaneously promoted to Captain, and they took us to celebrate. I met her there, she was out with some friends- she approached me, sweet as ever, though I bit back, told her to get lost, that I wouldn’t even care if she even disappeared off the planet.”

Wooyoung visibly winced at the choice of words, truly amazed by the harshness of his superior, especially after witnessing the love he had for his wife, waiting for him to continue.

“I lost her that night, only saw her getting in a cab with her friends, saw the guys too- honestly I thought to myself that night ‘so much for I love you San’. But that was my fault, I should’ve noticed how her eyes were clouded, I should’ve seen how her so-called friends were carrying her stumbling form, how they were handling her, how the guys were touching her.” He paused before letting out a shaky breath, “The next morning I remember reading an online article about another horrendous case, only this time, I knew the victim. I went to Seonghwa, the first thing I could do but he had beaten me to it, he had taken the case to the superiors who had shut it down, you know why?” he asked Wooyoung.

“Because it involved rich kids?”

“Not just any rich kids, Minister Lee’s useless son and his friends- honestly, I was more horrified by the fact that the girls were in on it, the case was closed before it even reached court. I couldn’t let it go though, I tried to contact her, but she wouldn’t even let me see her at the hospital, the nurses told me to leave and when I pushed my way through…I saw not my angel in her glory, but someone whose wings were ripped off- the way she looked at me that day, it’s like she could see through me, with the same disgust I showed to her for several years.”

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do, I went to Hongjoong.”

“Did he…”

“Beat me up? Yeah, the man runs the prison too, and I was foolish enough to tell him that I had met with his sister before the crime, and while he was busy breaking my fingers he asked me this one question, ‘Who does your system serve? A rich kid with STDs or a civilian girl trying to rebuild her life?’ I know that was all it took for me, for Seonghwa, that’s when we realised this is more than just some way of life, no, we were wearing the badges of honour, but we were on the wrong side.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, he beat me up so bad I was knocked out when I woke up, I remember Seonghwa standing by my hospital bed, asking me, ‘Do you want to do the right thing?’ and I said yes. The next thing I knew as soon as I could walk again, I was at her apartment, she didn’t let me in though, but I never stopped, I’d go there each night, sit outside her door, listening to her cry at the other end. One day though, when I was about to ring the doorbell she opened the door, looked up at me, and asked me, why I’d come every night and honestly the only explanation I had was, that if there was one person, I’d give up everything for, it would be her.”

Sighing he chugged down a glass of cold water, “Things were…okay, Seonghwa and I became part of the crew, unofficially of course, we still did our jobs, she still went to work, we bought an apartment together, lived together, did everything’s couples would do. One night she asked me if I’d still love her if she took back what they took from her, she wanted to burn out the fire and there was only one way…”

“What did you…say?”

“I said I’d protect her either way.”

“So…his son didn’t technically…”

“No, he didn’t decide to end his life, she did.” He shrugged, “Who was I to stop her, I am merely her husband and her bodyguard.”

“Wait.” Wooyoung cleared his throat, “So…why did you two…I mean- what- this entire week? Why’d you fight?”

“Oh- that!” shaking his head San sighed, “Obviously Hongjoong wasn’t done with his act of vengeance, I told him it was stupid and reckless and rejected the idea, it's been years and we needed her to not think about it anymore. Though I was supposed to assign two officers for tonight’s duty, and then last week my maps were missing, I suspected it was her, that she gave them to her brother and we fought…she was angry, I was scared of losing her again and well things escalated- I didn’t believe her, until last night, that’s why I removed Officer Song as your partner for tonight, even if Hongjoong wasn’t involved, I didn’t want to risk any chances of her being there- I knew she stopped after she took his son’s life, but knowing how the two crave for blood of the rich, I needed to be sure I’d keep her out of any danger”

“Sannie!” she called out, the padding of her bear feet echoed across the floor as she came running into the kitchen, both men turning to look at her, though Wooyoung instantly looked away, clearing his throat and San sighed, “Where are your pants?”

“Pants?” tilting her head, a bit confused she looked down at her usual sleepwear, his shirt, it was big enough, covered her till her thighs, plus she was wearing her undies, “Forget that- look, did you know Joong’s gonna come visit us tomorrow?”

Choking on his spit, Wooyoung turned to stare at her wide-eyed, what did she just say?

“What???”

“Kitten, what are you saying,” gesturing for her to come closer, she sat down beside San, eying the food before showing San the food, “Apparently Minister Lee’s house caught fire- crisp like burnt chicken I hear,” she giggled before turning to smile at Wooyoung, that smug smile reminding her of a sly cat, “Didn’t know you could cook.”

Forcing a smile Wooyoung muttered, “I can, Mrs.Choi.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Anytime.”

“Holy shit…” San sighed, “Seonghwa is gonna have a stroke, I swear- did you- did you do this??” he turned to look at her, sighing and reaching to grab her empty glass and filling it with water as she shook her head, “No, of course not, I told you I didn’t even know the layout of his house.”

“Then what were you doing there?” he asked, finally, the right question Wooyoung thought to himself.

“Because I knew you’d be there.”

San felt like his heart was about to combust, wanting to fall into her palm, letting her squeeze it to her contentment, like a little girl with her favourite teddy bear.

“I knew you’d be there.” She smiled, leaning closer to grab his hand and admire the wedding band, right where it belonged, right where they belonged. Wooyoung could only smile in disgust, this act of pure, blind passion making him envious.

“Oh, he did text me though.”

The two men looked at her, waiting for her to speak up, but like any persistent, stubborn feline she had them wait, only continued when San poked her side, earning a giggle, “He said he wants to meet Offic- sorry- Detective Jung. Seonghwa approved of him too.”

“WHAT?” Wooyoung shrieked in disbelief earning a sigh from San, “Well, welcome to the team brat.”

“WAIT NO! I”

She giggled leaning over the table to smile at him, San’s arm instinctively wrapping around her frame, pulling her into him, “It can be our little secret~”

seonghwa stands when he sees the two of you, embracing you with a tight hug before looking at yeosang. you never though you’d see the two of them together, the sight strange as you watch them interact. seonghwa holds out his hand and yeosang shakes it firmly. you can see the gears turn in your best friend’s head as he embraces his hand. it’s similar to the look you’re sure you gave him when you first met. you all sit down, you across from seonghwa and yeosang next to you. they exchange greetings as the waiter comes and places menus in front of you.

“you’re cold yeosang,” seonghwa says after a moment, looking at you briefly. “you’re just like y/n. no gloves?”

“naturally cold,” yeosang murmurs. you haven’t noticed before, but the set of yeosang’s shoulders are a bit tense. likely due to the topic of conversation. you decided together that it would be best to speak to seonghwa about his… condition, in person. depending on how the conversation turns, you want to tell him tonight. not in the restaurant.

“pick what you wanted?” you look at seonghwa, and he mulls over the menu. you envy him in situations like this - he’s quiet, but he never lets the lull of silence bother him.

“yep, the usual.”

oh, maybe not this time. the silence is almost painful.

“i’ve gone here a few times,” yeosang speaks up, glancing over the food. “the last time i came the hamburgers were delightful. fries a bit too soggy for my taste,” he sighs, frowning. “at least the chicken i ordered was crispy.”

“chicken it is then,” you nudge him.

the waiter comes back as you place your orders.

your hands are folded in your lap, holding yourself back from biting your lip. seonghwa wanted the two of you to come for a reason, and though you don’t expect it to be said immediately once you’ve sat down, the anticipation is wearing you down.

“i’ve known birdie since we were kids,” seonghwa begins, taking a sip of his soda. “she probably told you already, but we’ve been best friends since then. it was just recently when i realized that i love her in a romantic sense.”

“she has,” yeosang says simply.

“and you have no problem with that?” seonghwa’s brows furrow as he looks at yeosang. “nothing at all?”

“it might be surprising given the amount of time we’ve been together, but i do love her. and i have no issue with her loving someone else while being in a relationship with me,” yeosang shrugs. “all i want is open communication - if her feelings change or if yours change if we decide to move along with this, we just speak about it. it’s difficult, but that’s how something like this can work.”

seonghwa stares at him, “you’re serious about this? you're willing to share someone you love?”

“hwa,” you frown.

he sighs, “it’s just. i don’t want… i didn’t think i’d ever agree to anything like this,” he whispers. his fingers drag along the indentations of the wooden table, tongue dragging along his lips. “i thought you’d be with someone else and that’s true, it happened. but this?” he looks between you and yeosang. “it… i don’t want to be an afterthought. i don’t want to be treated like someone that could be thrown away. and it might be stupid of me to say anything like this because i know you better than i know myself, birdie. i know you wouldn’t hurt me that way. but it scares me. it fucking terrifies me that one day you will decide that this was stupid and give up on me after some time. that’s what i’m worried about most.”

yeosang does not respond, knowing it’s your chance to speak this time.

“i know how hard this is to wrap your head around,” you say, gaze glued to his face, though he does not meet your eyes. “when i finally confessed to yeosang, we both knew that i haven't moved on from you, and despite my own insistent yeosang encouraged me to settle my feelings before pursuing something with him. and at the time i could imagine my life with him, i really could. but having you not there with me, i don't think i'd ever move on from you, seonghwa. feelings are very fragile, and the very last thing i'd ever think of doing is hurting you. i love you, and i want this to work. between us.”

seonghwa does not say anything, likely digesting the words you say the food arrives moments later. all of you that the waiter for the meal.

“i know my words are less impactful since we are not well acquainted,” yeosang takes a small bite of his fries. “but i would like for you to know something, if i may.”

seonghwa nods.

“when y/n and i arrived here, no, just before, she spoke to me about you. explained your emotions, how you react to certain things and phrases. told me of your likes and dislikes, of topics to tread lightly on and to be aware of. she didn't even want me to hold her hand when we arrived out of fear it would turn you off.”

the temperature in the room grows, your own face warming. he does not mean to embarrass you but you can feel the emotion manifesting.

“she was afraid when i spoke to her about you, when i asked questions. corrected me when my assumption about you was incorrect, scolded me when i said something out of line. these conversations, these little talks between us – from that alone i could tell that y/n loves you more than she even knows. and you and i both know she is kind hearted. her heart is full of love. she loves you truly, without restraint.”

yeosang passes seonghwa his fries, “it would be a shame to not try, at least. see if it is comfortable. we all don't have to be together each time we meet. you can meet separately if it feels strange to have me around. our relationships with one another will be separate.”

“are you interested in men?” seonghwa asks him. yeosang's sweet cheeks lift at the question.

“i don't have a preference, i just enjoy people. but if you wonder if i am attracted to you,” yeosang glances at you for a brief moment. it is something he does often to see if you are uncomfortable. the expression on your face must be neutral enough for him to continue. “you aren't bad on the eyes. i don't anticipate a relationship between us, though. my heart is occupied by y/n right now.”

there is a bit of silence that simmering between the two of you.

“i don’t want to jump into anything right away,” seonghwa starts, thanking yeosang for the fries. “even though i did confess to birdie right when we both met again, i didn’t really know the circumstances of what’s happened over these months. i do, though, want to continue something with her. and seeing as you’re both okay with that, i am too. we can just take it slow, then?”

you can’t hide the smile slowly rising on your face, the softness in seonghwa’s eyes forming as he takes in your expression. “we can,” you agree.

“and you don’t have to not touch each other while i’m around,” seonghwa adds in, chuckling when he sees your movements still. “it doesn’t make me uncomfortable in the slightest, you know.”

“i didn’t want anything to be too much,” you admit beneath your breath. yeosang slides closer to you almost immediately after seonghwa’s blessing, a snort escaping your lips at his enthusiasm. “way to play it cool.”

“i like touching you,” yeosang shrugs.

the night slows down after that, small banter back and forth between the three of you. seonghwa warms up as the hours pass, and soon enough the employees begin cleaning up the cafe, a signal for you to leave. yeosang takes his hand in yours as you stand, the cool temperature of his hand making you shiver. seonghwa follows by your opposing side as you walk out, the cold night more than chilling. the lump in your throat is massive as you look at seonghwa, knowing that you have to tell him what yeosang is. that you can’t hide it from him if you want this to work. yeosang knows this as well, thumb rubbing small circles into your palm.

“seonghwa, before we move things forward there’s something else you need to know,” you start, grip tightening around yeosang’s hands. “it’s important.”

the familiar worried look settles in his eyes as he looks between the both of you. things were moving forward so well, it hurts that you need to bring this up at all. but you trust seonghwa, more than you trust yourself. he wouldn’t tell a soul what he knows if you didn’t want him to.

“better to let it out in the open,” he says slowly.

“would you…” you trail off, gaze moving just behind seonghwa. yeosang steps forward as seonghwa turns around, his hand leaving yours. the sight is hard to watch.

the man’s hands wrapped around the woman’s body, pulling her into him. from a quick glance it would just look like they’re wrapped in a lover’s embrace, but you can see the dark shine on her neck, the way his hands are still around her, the limpness of her body. if she is not dead she is soon to be. even in the night you can see how pale she is from where you stand.

“what’s going on?” seonghwa asks, looking at you. you're unable to respond, yeosang leaving the two of you by yourselves. you can remember how he told you there were no vampires around, rarely do they ever even appear in your town. so seeing one so blatantly suck the life out of a person in front of you allows dread to slide over you. seonghwa takes a step forward but you grip his forearm so tightly, you’re sure to leave a bruise. he looks down at you in confusion, eyes widening when he sees the fear on your face.

“y/n, you have to let me go help-”

the sound resonates around the two of you. your heads whip in the direction of the crime, the woman’s body slumped against the pavement as the two vampires fight. it’s too fast for your eyes to keep up, but you do see it. the wooden stake shoved into yeosang’s chest and sticking out from the back. seonghwa is as stunned as you are, your heart dropping when you see his injury. another loud crack echoes through the air. yeosang falls to his knees, hands pressed against the ground to hold himself up. he moves again, slow enough to see him collapse in the nearby park, hidden behind the thickened bushes.

you let go of seonghwa and run over, first glancing at the woman on the ground. her eyes are open and glazed over, life no longer with her. seonghwa is just behind you, stopping for a moment to gaze at the woman's body. there's nothing the two of you can do – but neither of you reach to dial the police. you move near yeosang, but seonghwa is first.

“birdie, what the hell,” his hand wrapped around your forearm is steel, brows furrowed tightly as he holds you behind his body. his gaze has not left the crouched over body of yeosang, the hole in his chest slowly closing. you watch as the parts begin to mend, muscles stretching across the gap, ribs forming in its absence. the sight itself is gory, your own eyes elsewhere as yeosang dry heaves. it is ironic to say that your own heart is breaking looking at him, but you cannot describe it any other way. you push past your fear and begin moving toward him again but seonghwa does not lose strength in his hold on you.

“hwa, let go.”

“you’re not getting near him. he’s not… he’s–”

“seonghwa. he’s not human, i know,” you interrupt his stuttered words. his head turns immediately to look at you, eyes flicking between yours. hurt and confusion mix together. his hold loosens enough that you pull away from him, crouching next to yeosang. his hand reaches for yours and you grasp it without another word, lips pressed against the back of it. you don’t think of how it’s coated with blood or how it’s not his. no. all you do is wait and watch. his shuddered breaths, trembling lips. eyes closed.

“what’s going on?” seonghwa has not moved from his spot but he has not backed away either, watching the two of you. “is he some type of experiment?”

“a vampire, just like the one that attacked that woman,” you say. “we were going to tell you hwa, until it happened. it was going to be easier to explain.”

“not sure anything like that is easy to explain, y/n,” he moves closer. you hear him crouching down next to you. he is afraid, that you can clearly see. but he does not leave your side, eyes stuck on your crumbled partner. “is he… will he be okay?”

“yes,” you murmur. “i think so. i hope so.”

“is there nothing we can do? to speed up the process?”

it’s surprising how easy he is taking in this information. you glance over for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand that touches yeosang’s free one. their fingers are entwined, seonghwa’s trembling in his hold.

“blood, probably,” you whisper low, hoping that yeosang is too focused on his healing to hear you say it. “but i don’t think–”

“no,” his tone is hoarse as it escapes his blood coated lips, head shaking slightly. “no.”

“no then,” seonghwa says. “we wait?”

yeosang slowly nods. “yes.”

and that is what you do. hidden in the moonless night, tucked beneath the tree seonghwa and you used to rest when you were children, staring at the man you love mending himself.

–

it takes a little more than a hour before yeosang is able to stand up on his own. seonghwa and you help him to his feet. he does not waste any time in letting apologies spill from his body, chest heaving. you silence them with a small smile and a shake of your head. seonghwa shuts it down well, lifting yeosang’s arm to let it wrap around his shoulder. he assists him with walking to yeosang’s car. you climb in the backseat first, helping seonghwa lower him down to the seats, his body lying horizontally, head resting against your thighs. your fingers push his blood soaked locks away from his face, unable to control your own trembling. he turns his head slightly, pressing a small kiss to your pants.

“i’ll be fine, pretty.”

seonghwa climbs into the front seat. he adjusts his mirror to focus on the two of you. your eyes meet in the reflection, your worried gaze meeting his identical one. it is something you love about him. how easy it is for him to care despite the circumstances. he asked you just before if he should call the police but both yeosang and yourself denied the request. there's no way to explain what happened tonight. nothing that would end up letting the three of you leave without question. seonghwa drives slow, apologizing each time the road hits a bump. yeosang murmurs no need as he does it, eventually making it to his complex. the two of you pause for a moment, thinking. how could you bring him through the lobby when he looks like he’s walked out of a murder scene?

“garage has a private entrance. the key is in the glove compartment,” he gestures forward. seonghwa reaches over and takes it out, quickly opening the driver’s door to help yeosang out. the movements are quick as you do so, cameras around the garage increasing your worry. you enter the elevator, seonghwa passing you to the key. you glance at the two of them before shutting the doors, turning the key and hitting the top floor.

yeosang snickers at you, head resting against seonghwa’s shoulder. “you know what they say about vampires not being seen in reflections? works here too.”

“i can see you in the mirror, yeo,” you frown.

“if i let you, yes,” he takes in a long breath, clearing his throat. “i’m able to hide myself enough that outsiders cannot see. so, the guards would just see the two of you carrying around an invisible person. i only suggested the garage because it would be too hard to explain carrying a body they cannot see. i wonder how it would look,” he chuckles, his cough overcoming it. seonghwa and you exchange a worried look as the elevator ascends.

“i’m fine,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “just a blood bag and rest. you can leave once you drop me off. the both of you.”

“no.” “absolutely not.”

yeosang does not protest, but you can see the disgruntled expression on his face. once he's stable enough, likely after a few more hours, you know he's going to scold you for hanging around while he's like this. it wouldn't be the first time you've run away. but you cannot do such a thing now. your mind would wander if you left him in this apartment. if the attack was truly random maybe you'd be less worried. nevertheless, he's one of your loved ones. you'd never forgive yourself for leaving him alone. and with you staying, seonghwa won't leave. not until he understands everything that's happening.

the elevator doors slide open, your steps matching their slow ones as you enter the apartment. seonghwa helps guide yeosang to his room with instructions. you enter the kitchen, opening the fridge door. the bags line each shelf, cold to the touch. does he want you to warm it up?

“this is true, then?” the stool slides against the hardwood floor as seonghwa sits, eyes on the open refrigerator. “he's really a vampire?”

“as real as he'll ever be,” you play the bag in the microwave, hitting the timer. “i was as shocked as you are now when i found out.”

“and it doesn't scare you?”

you hold your tongue. does it? before, you were downright afraid of being in the same room with him. you've grown used to his true nature, your love superseding any uncomfortable feelings that appeared. but are you still afraid, deep down?

“it did,” you admit, keeping the bag closed. you stare at it, thinking. “but i love him, hwa. if he were a secret dragon or a shape-shifting hybrid creature i'd still love him.” and that is true. there is no hesitancy in your voice. you love him. you tuck the bag beneath your arm, giving seonghwa a quick squeeze on his arm before entering yeosang's room.

he stares at the ceiling, chest rising and falling slowly. he somehow looks paler, the warm amber lamp shining on his skin. he tilts his head, blinking slowly as he smiles at you. you take the bag out of your hand, placing it in his. he pauses as he stares at it, nail tracing around the outline of it.

“thank you,” his tone is low. “you didn’t… when you saw the woman, you were calm.”

you see her sullen, cold face in your mind as he mentions it. it makes your throat tighten a bit, but it's not an unfamiliar sight. “seonghwa and i, before we had our current jobs, we were in medical school. cadavers were something quite common to see. the only reason why i didn't freak out,” you admit. “i doubt i’d forget anytime soon, though.”

“i'm sorry y/n,” he places the bag to the side of him, hand reaching for yours. you lift yours with ease, letting him entwine your fingers. “i should have told you to leave. i would have been fine alone, i let you see it. i could have done something quicker –”

“you're not blaming this on yourself, are you?” you stare at him in confusion. “you didn't cause her death, yeosang. this isn't your fault in any way.”

“i thought, when we left the restaurant, the smell outside was vaguely familiar. it smelled of death. i pushed past it because i thought it was just me imagining things. if i truly, truly let it settle this wouldn't have happened. i could have saved her.”

“listen to me carefully,” you lift your free hand, resting it against the side of his face. his eyelids close. “you are not at fault, yeosang. this is not your fault. you didn't kill her. you tried your best to save her. you almost died trying, yeo,” your gaze moves to his chest, the open wound merely a smaller hole now. “you did everything you could. sometimes it just doesn't work out the way we want it to.”

“the vampire is still out there,” he whispers.

that is true. wherever it came from, it still roams the streets. and if what yeosang believes is true truly is, there's nothing stopping him from feeding on more innocents. soon enough the murders will raise suspicion, grow fear in the community. it worries you that's for certain.

“there's nothing to be done right now unless you're well.”

his lips tilt downward a bit, but he doesn't say anything to deny your words. “you can go for the night if you'd like, pretty.”

“i'm staying,” you reach for the bag around him, placing it back in his hands. “i'll be in the living room with seonghwa. bother me anytime you want.” you go to stand, but yeosang's grip on your fingers does not loosen. “yeo–?”

“not just my apartment, y/n. if this… if all of this is too much for you, i wouldn't blame you if you decided to leave me.”

“i’ve told you before-”

“and i’m asking you again.” he interrupts you, eyes unblinking. “i love you, and i know this relationship we have will put you in danger. just because i rarely am around vampires does not mean someone won’t appear in the future. i’d never want to put you in harm’s way, and i need you to know now that that will happen. i’ll try my best to protect you, but there may be a time that i won’t be able. i need you to think about this, carefully. i wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night to think it through, and if it takes longer than the night i’ll understand. just, don’t say yes because you care for me. think of your future, of what you’ll be risking if you stay.”

you lean down, lips pressing against his birthmark. “i will. get some rest, okay?”

his nod is shallow, letting go of your arm. you give him one last look before closing the door completely, locking it behind you.

seonghwa sits on the edge of the couch, mindlessly clicking through the channels. his gaze shifts to you once you enter, bored eyes brightening as they move to yours. “is he alright?”

you sit next to him, adjusting yourself on the couch. “he’s as good as he can be. hopefully better tomorrow.”

he nodes slowly, “are you okay?”

that’s a more difficult question to answer. “he was there for me when i let myself drown in my sorrow. i drank so much a few months ago. it made me forget what i lost. seeing him right now, so defeated, i just don’t know what to do to help him. i feel stuck a bit, you know?”

there is no question why you did that, how you ended up that way. it was your own heartache that thought it would be best to mend yourself with alcohol. you’d never blame it on seonghwa and he’d never suggest doing so. but you can see in his eyes, how they grace their gaze on you, how the lump of his adam’s apple tightens as he swallows. you reach over, hand covering his own, a small pinch of skin between your nails.

“it’s better now.”

he nods slowly, lids fluttering. “i hope so.”

“yeosang helped with it,” you say again, gaze subconsciously roaming to his closed bedroom door. “it was a lot to deal with on my own and he was there to pull me out of it. i haven’t touched alcohol since.”

“i’m glad he was there for you,” seonghwa holds your hand, playing with your fingers. “i hope i can be there too.”

“you’re here now even though you don’t need to be,” you say simply. “you're scared of him but you haven't said anything to discourage me. you're scared, and you're still here. i went through a lot back then seonghwa and i have so much more to work on, but i won't do anything like that again. you're here for me, and i will not leave you.”

he takes in a long breath, eyes closing. “i know. but it's nice to hear you say it, birdie.” he tilts his head to look at you. “all we can do right now is wait and see if he needs anything. i can tell from knowing him for a day now, he seems a bit stubborn.”

you frown, “takes one to know one.”

he snickers, tongue dragging across his chapped lips. “ha ha.”

-

“now there’s two of you i have to deal with?” wooyoung stands there, arms crossed as it flicks between seonghwa and yourself. yeosang did warn you before you slept that he may be dropping by since he told him of the incident, but you didn’t expect it so early in the morning. dawn just breaking. you barely slept, a couple of hours of sleep obvious in the way you stand. seonghwa stands slightly in front of you, unmoving as wooyoung enters the home. his eyes meet yours, questions in their gaze, but there’s nothing to really explain from your side. you know wooyoung as well as he does.

his hair seems a bit longer since the last you saw him, pulled back from his face with a hairband. he throws down the duffle bag on yeosang’s couch, rubbing his face. “you saw the fuck, right?”

with brows knotting together, “excuse me?”

“the immortal, the nightwalker. vampire, whatever. you saw him?” wooyoung turns to look at you, eyes flicking up to seonghwa. “both of you did?”

“yes-”