#jongho au

The music really added to the ambiance of the night to come. The ritual of getting ready for a night out with friends is sacred when you want to look your best, and who cares if people think it’s selfish or arrogant. Looking good can equal to feeling even better and that’s the emotional confidence everyone should strive toward. However, with the music playing softly in the background, and my dark red tone outfit with matching gold accessories hanging on the closet door waiting for me, tonight felt like the night to remind myself and everyone "i am Latina and im proud of who i am".

But raking my brush through my sopping wet hair, water all over an old pajama top thrown on after the shower, curl cream and leave-in conditioner covering my hands and bathroom vanity, it began to feel like an over-stimulation nightmare. "Ugh! This is about to piss me off it it comes out bad" I half yell and grunt to myself, looking in the bathroom mirror, scrunching my hair to high heavens. My straightener, conveniently in the top drawer, right where i left it last almost 4 months ago. "Why are we yelling?" Jongho comes up to the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised in curiosity. "It’s time to dry this, and if it doesn’t come out how i wanted, i’m killing them and burning these curls again before i lose my mind" exasperated didn’t even begin to explain my voice, even though i know he didn’t deserve it, I can’t help it sometimes, "I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated to the max, and I just want to feel pretty tonight". Jongho doesn’t verbally reply, but he never has to. His body language and actions alone makes up for what he doesn’t say.

It reminds me of why i fell for him in the first place. Small token actions that would make my heart race every time. Some might call it the classic ‘opposites attract’ trope and wooyoung certainly pointed it out plenty for us. I was the loud mutual friend, drinking with the group, starting the party even if i had to dance solo, singing my heart out at karaoke nights, even if i knew jongho was going to wipe the competition out with his singing. And he was the subtle, silent, protector type almost. In a friend group outing i’d find myself drifting to sit next to him, and his arm naturally resting behind me on the back of my seat. Laughing at a joke mingi told animatedly, leaning back in my seat and finding the warmth of his body closer than i realized, "oh, sorry" leaning forward again, trying to brush off the faint blush on my cheeks, whether it was from the drinks or jongho, i’ll never tell him. "No, it’s okay, you can rest" he gently whispered while maintaining eye contact with a soft smile. Whether my brain made it up or not, i swear then, his eyes were like big brown sparkly diamonds. "Oh, thanks" i replied just as softly, afraid if i said anything else, i’d say too much. Reassured, i turned back around and leaned into his side, tuning back into the ongoing conversation that had vanished when he had spoken to me so softly and warmly.

People say drunk minds say sober thoughts, for me it showed through actions. I found myself nuzzling back softly into his side, feeling too warm yet too cold, i couldn’t decide, but jongho felt so warm, snd sturdy i couldn’t help myself. I shifted and crossed my legs towards his accidentally bumping his leg. I was about to apologize until my breath caught, his left free hand gently and slowly grabs my calf and holds it on his lap. Giving me plenty of time to retract if i wanted, but instead i shift and pull both my legs up onto his lap. His hand doesn’t hesitate to pull both my legs onto his lap, hooked over his right thigh, leaving his warm hand on my knee. Tipsy myself, i lean farther into him and nuzzle softly onto his shoulder already feeling warm and sleepy. "Woah she’s getting real comfortable with you huh" i didn’t even need to look to know Jongho had sent the member a pointed glare as they mumbled an accusing ‘my bad’ right after. At this point, i couldn’t care less who was watching, my unrestrained arm wraps around jongho’s waist as i shift my cuddling to his neck instead. "What’s gotten into you y/n?" Jongho whispers softly into my ear, i manage to look up at him as he softly raises his hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, were jongho’s eyes always this pretty? And when did he smell so good? He chuckles, vibrating his chest. "pretty, i appreciate it, but i could say the same about you". My eyes shoot open, "did i say that out loud?", he nods, leaning down to my ear, "let me take you home, pretty girl, you’ve had plenty tonight," and with a slight and nod and a smile, it started a path i never thought i’d be on.

The edge was steep, served as protection barely a breath off the coast, shrouded in mist and myth. No one lived there. No one dared. But you did.

A lonesome siren remains stuck, not by choice, but by consequence. Their voice, once sweet and reckless, had long since soured into something mournful.

Forever 23. That was the age they left them, hollowed out and discarded. You had trusted too easily, loved too loudly. Men had taken your softness and carved it into something sharp. You sought comfort in the wrong arms, those no good for you, mistaking cruelty for care. 

When you finally broke, the sea took you in.

It’s said they met a sailor…A Pirate, in the 13th century. He was charming and drawn to you like a moth to flame. And you? Yuoi were bratty and naive, insolent in your charm, and far too trusting. He promised you escape and you believed him.

Eventually he’d never made it back to shore.

Now, you wait. Not for love. Not for rescue. But for the next fool who thinks they can save you. The island remains quiet, save for the wind and the occasional whisper of a song, one that speaks of betrayal, heartbreak, of longing, and a soul who was never saved.

Visitors don’t come often. Those who do are never seen again.

But is that really how the story goes?

The inn was cloaked in amber candlelight and thick incense, a poor disguise for the sour stench of spilled ale and sailors who hadn’t bathed since the last port. You stood behind the bar, waiting, for patrons to beckon the usual: “more drinks!” followed by crude gestures, slurred flirtations, men starved of softness after months at sea. Desperation made them bold. And unbearable.

You’d learned to endure. Survival meant smiling when you didn’t want to, serving drinks to hands that lingered too long, brushing off words that crawled across your skin. You were good at it. Too good.

“Excuse me, miss” came a voice behind you, low, clear, and startlingly polite.

You turned, arms full of empty glasses, and forced the usual grin. “Evening, sir. What can I get you on this fine night?”

“A glass of your finest mead” he said, with a nod that held no trace of mockery.

You blinked. No one spoke to you like that here. Never with an ounce of respect, because it’s not like you mattered.

Your smile softened, real this time. “Coming up.”

He noticed.

As you walked back to the bar, something shifted, you felt like you were being watched. It’s not like you weren’t used to being watched, but this gaze was different. It burned. It pressed against your spine, made your knees falter, you almost had to grip the edge of the counter to steady yourself. You knew it was him, but you couldn’t prove it.

Pouring the drink, you stole a glance.

He sat alone, posture relaxed but alert. His linen shirt clung to broad shoulders, sleeves rolled to reveal forearms that looked carved from stone. A doublet lay folded beside him. His trousers were tailored, finer than anything worn in this place, structured and clean. And his eyes… deep brown, warm and unreadable. They held stories, unimaginable stories for someone like you. Not the kind told over drinks, but the kind whispered in the dark, behind locked doors.

You handed him the mead, fingers brushing his for a moment too long.

“Thank you” he said, voice like velvet.

You nodded, heart thudding. What a beautiful stranger.

The days bled together, the same thread of routine. But now, there was a face you knew. He came every night and sat in same seat. Sometimes he arrived with others, men dressed like him in tailored linen and quiet confidence. Other nights, he was alone again, and he never left until closing.

You’d never seen him before that first night. Patrons came and went, faces blurred into one another. But he stood out. You needed to know why.

“What brings you here?” you asked, voice flat as you placed his ale down, harder than usual.

He blinked, startled. “Pardon?”

“I’d never seen you before. Then suddenly you’re here every night for a week.” It wasn’t meant to sound accusatory, just honest. Curiosity had a way of slipping past your guard.

He tilted his head. “Care to sit with me? If you’ve got a moment.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Give me one moment.”

You crossed the room to, headed towards the madame, weaving through the haze of pipe smoke and sweat. “Madam, that gentleman wants to talk with me. I’m sure he’ll buy more drinks if I keep him company.”

She glanced over, eyes narrowing. Then, something flickered behind them…gold and silver, like coins catching firelight. “Fine. Keep him here. Keep him drinking.”

Your chest bloomed with pride and excitement.

“As you wish.”

You returned with a fresh ale, heart thudding.

“I can spare a few moments” you said, sliding into the seat beside him. “But you’ll have to keep the drinks coming.”

“Fair trade for time with a beautiful lady.” he said, flashing a grin that should’ve felt sleazy. But it didn’t. It felt dangerous.

You adjusted your skirt, settling in. The candle between you flickered violently, as if reacting to something unseen. “What brings you here then?” you asked, wasting no time.

“Eager, I see.”

You nodded.

He leaned back, eyes dark and unreadable. “I’m not planning to stay. I’m here for… business.” The pause was deliberate. Heavy.

“What kind of business?”

His laugh was low. His gaze shifted and the warmth you’d felt from him vanished. In its place was something colder, it wrapped around your ribs and squeezed, winding you.

You liked it.

“now that’s none of your concern darling” he took a slow sip of his ale, eyes locked on yours over the rim of the cup. The candle between you flickered again, casting shadows that danced across his face.

He didn’t need to say it. You knew. His answer was enough to confirm a small suspicion.

Pirate.

Not the kind that stumbled in drunk and boastful, slurring tales of sea monsters and stolen gold. No, he wore it differently. Quiet. Controlled. Like the title wasn’t a badge, but a blade tucked beneath his sleeve.

He watched you, waiting for the push, but it didn’t come.

“You think you’re the first pirate to waltz in here?” you scoffed, leaning back. “I had a hunch but couldn’t prove it. Your type all have the same look, like the world owes you something.”

That made him laugh, a real one this time. Rich and warm but still edged with something dangerous.

It should’ve scared you but it didn’t.

“You’re mouthy.” he said, amused.

“You’re secretive.” you shot back.

He tilted his head, considering you.

You shrugged. “I’m bored. Tell me more” you ponder for a second. “You have a boat right? What does it look like?”

He smirked. “You’re dangerous when you’re bored.” You didn’t deny it. He continued “Wouldn’t be a pirate without a ship, darling,” he said, voice low and proud. “She’s a beauty, dark oak wood, obsidian features.”

“Wow, sounds amazing!” you said, your smile wide and genuine. “The feeling of the ocean must be incredible! The breeze, the motion…” You trailed off, already lost in the daydream. The idea of being on a boat, letting the current take you wherever it pleased.

Jongho tilted his head. “Never been out to sea?”

You looked confused for a moment, then shook your head. “No.”

“Not even on a fishing boat? You live in a port town.” His brow furrowed, perplexed.

You shook your head again. “Never had the opportunity. Nobody’s ever asked.” You paused, then added quietly, “I didn’t have much growing up. Just my mother and I. She worked in a tailor shop, did everything she could to keep us afloat.”

He blinked, then gave a soft whistle. “Such a shame. A beautiful lady like you deserves to see the sea.”

You blushed, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“So what’s life like at sea then?” you asked, leaning in, eager. You wanted to know what freedom sounded like and maybe one day, feel it too.

Jongho smiled, sensing your curiosity. He began to speak, painting vivid pictures with his words: the rhythm of ship life, the camaraderie of the crew, those same men who’d been with him at the inn. He told you how the nausea fades after enough storms, how your legs learn to sway with the deck, and how heavenly the sun feels when you’re surrounded by nothing but sea breeze and sky.

You listened, eyes wide, heart open.

Then he paused.

His gaze lingered on you, studying your face like a map he couldn’t quite read. “You’re not like the others.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, eyes shining, like a child being told bedtime stories of brave pirates sailing the seven seas. People usually feared him. He was in awe.

But beneath that awe, something else stirred.

A flicker of possession.

A quiet, selfish want.

He wasn’t just admiring you.

He was imagining keeping you.

“No” you agreed. “I’m not.”

The candle burned low between you, wax pooling like blood. The inn buzzed around you, but it felt distant, like the two of you were sitting in a pocket of time, untouched.

He was dangerous. You were an insolent brat. And something was beginning to stir. Something close to ruin.

It had been months since you last saw him.

The handsome stranger with the quiet eyes. Your conversation, which was brief, replayed in your mind more often than you cared to admit. You hadn’t even gotten his name.

Pirates never stayed. There was always something shinier to chase, somewhere bloodier to be, somewhere else to conquer. You knew that. Everyone in a port town did. But still, you looked. Every night, your eyes drifted to the seat he once claimed like it belonged to him. Someone else sat there now. They were loud, greedy, disgusting. He laughed too hard, drank too fast, and tried to flirt with you like you were a prize to win. You ignored him. But the sight of him in that seat, made something twist in your chest.

You hated that he was gone. Hated that he’d left without a word. Hated that he’d taken up space in your thoughts and then vanished like mist.

But most of all, you hated that you missed him.

You moved through your shifts like a ghost, smiling when you had to, biting back the urge to scream when the sailors got too handsy. You were restless. Like something inside you was clawing to get out.

You wanted more. From everything.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d find a way to take it.

Tonight’s shift was slow, monotonous, until you heard faint chatter amongst some of the older, kinder finishing gentlemen. A rumour came in quietly, folded between drunken boasts and half-lucid ramblings. A ship had docked at the far end of the port. Said to be a ship sleek and dark, and unlike the usual battered vessels that limped into town. No name. No flag. Just whispers.

You didn’t react. Not outwardly.

But that night, you left the inn early. Told the madame you had errands. She didn’t ask questions, she never did when your eyes looked like that. You had an itch and you were going to scratch it.

It wasn’t desperation. Not exactly. Just curiosity, a need to know. You told yourself it was casual. You were just checking. Just walking past the docks to see if the sea had spit him back out.

The port was quiet, the air thick with salt and smoke. Lanterns swung gently in the breeze, casting golden halos across the mossy cobblestones. You moved like you had a purpose, but not a destination. Just a hope. Feeling brave because you had a knife tucked into your boots.

And then you saw it.

Moored at the edge of the harbour, half-shrouded in mist, was a ship that didn’t belong. Its hull was polished obsidian and dark oak, catching the moonlight like a blade. The sails were furled, but the rigging was taut, precise. No drunken crew loitered on deck. No shouting. No music. Just silence.

You stopped.

Something in your chest tightened. Recognition.

You didn’t see him. Not yet. But the ship was enough.

You stepped closer, boots echoing against the stone. A figure moved on deck, too far to make out. That same cold heat winding around your ribs returned.

Then the urge to climb aboard took over.

The dock groaned beneath your boots as you stepped closer, each footfall swallowed by the hush of the harbour. The sounds of waves crashing calmed the nerves you began to feel. The ship loomed above you. No name etched into the wood. No welcome offered.

You hesitated at the gangplank.

This was foolish. Reckless. You knew that. Ships like this didn’t take kindly to uninvited guests, but the rush that he could be aboard was thrilling enough to make you shake those thoughts. You took a step onto the plank, and you let your heart take you the rest of the way. Maybe you could hide somewhere below deck and wait for them to set sail. You started to hope they’d keep you on board…finally experience the sea. Your brain was running wild with possibilities, of adventure and new experiences, and that was all the encouragement you needed.

The wood was damp, slick with salt. Every step felt louder than it should have. You half expected someone to shout, to drag you back down, but the deck was quiet. Not empty, you could feel eyes on you, but no one moved.

The ship was immaculate. Ropes coiled with precision, sails furled tight, the scent of oil and iron lingering in the air. This wasn’t a vessel cobbled together by thieves. It was curated. Controlled.

You stepped onto the deck, heart hammering.

A man stood at the helm, back turned. Broad shoulders, dark hair tousled by the wind. He didn’t move. 

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how out of place you were, your worn skirt, your trembling hands, your foolish hope. But you didn’t turn back.

“Take a wrong turn?” he said, turning to face you, voice low and laced with something sharp. “You shouldn’t be here, little lady.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know.” you stammered, the words crumbling as they left your mouth, your hands white knuckle gripping your skirt.

His eyes were unreadable, but they held no softness. “You don’t know?” he repeated, stepping closer. “Then let me help you. This ship isn’t for wandering little girls with shaky hands and curious eyes.”

You flinched but held your ground.

“I was looking for someone!” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

He stopped inches from you, gaze heavy, unreadable. The mist curled around his shoulders like a cloak.

“And you thought climbing aboard a ship like this was the way to find them?”

You nodded, breath shallow. “The last time I saw him he described this ship.”

He studied you for a long moment, then tilted his head. “I recognise you. The girl from the Inn?” he laughs, half in disbelief.

Another nod. You remembered him too, this man had come in with the handsome Pirate and the others, boots heavy with salt, eyes sharp. You’d watched them from across the room, laughter spilling from their table. 

“You’re either brave or stupid.”

“Both.” you said, voice steadier now.

The crew gathered slowly, drawn by the tension. Then you saw him, his big brown eyes wide with shock. “You..I didn’t think I’d see you again” he said. Something in his tone was off.

“I didn’t think I’d want to” you replied. “But here I am.” You paused, unsure if what you were going to say next was incredibly stupid or a way out. “I want to see the sea” you said with pleading eyes. “and I didn’t even get your name.” you blushed sightly.

“Absolutely not.” A tall man said, he was leaning against a pole, next to him stood a taller man.

“She’s not crew.” A beautiful blonde man said.

“She’s not threat.” A muscular man replied, closing some distance between the both of you, as if he was evaluating you.

“She’s clearly desperate.”

 “She works. She stays. She slacks, she swims.” This was clearly the captain, the man who had confronted you when you climbed aboard. His gaze didn’t waver.

You swallowed hard. Trying to contain the excitement bubbling inside you “I’ll work. I’ll earn it.”

So that was that.

They introduced themselves one by one, each name landing with the weight of something ancient and unspoken. The man who first addressed you, Hongjoong. Now stood at the helm, arms crossed, gaze sharp, watching everything without a word. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.

Wooyoung and San leaned against the mast, smirking, their eyes flicking over you like they were sizing up a storm. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, calculating. Mingi and Yunho exchanged a glance, neither of them particularly phased by your presence. Yeosang said nothing at all, his silence louder than the wind.

And then, finally, Jongho stepped forward.

His expression was unreadable, cold. You felt the weight of every footstep he took toward you, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d crossed a line, if stepping aboard had been a mistake.

“Welcome aboard, pretty lady,” he said, voice smooth, warm enough to melt every doubt that had crept into your chest.

They didn’t welcome you. But they didn’t throw you overboard either.

You scrubbed the deck until your knuckles split. Hauled ropes until your arms burned. Learned the rhythm of the ship, the moods of the crew. They watched you with suspicion, but slowly, it softened. A nod here. A shared drink there. A quiet word when the sea turned cruel.

Jongho kept his distance at first, but he did watch. Then suddenly there was a shift, He started helping you tie knots. Showed you how to read the wind. One night, when the rain lashed the deck and the cold bit deep, he handed you a blanket without a word.

You started to feel a spark begin to ignite within you. The glances lasted longer, you even began sneaking away together to have quiet conversations below deck. He made you feel safe, it felt like he cared.

And after one particular rowdy night on deck, after a feast fit for a king and enough ale to knock out even the most seasoned drinker. His hands found yours in the dark. His mouth traced your skin like he was memorising it. You whispered secrets into his chest. He had held you like he meant it.

You let yourself believe you were safe.

And the ship sailed on.

One evening, the sun beating down on the deck, warm and golden, casting long shadows across the polished wood. You stood watching the sea, taking in it’s sparkling surface, it was calm, stretching out like glass, the kind of rare stillness that made you forget storms ever existed. You leaned against the railing, eyes closed, letting the breeze kiss your skin. Salt clung to your lips. Behind you, footsteps approached, measured, familiar.

Jongho.

He stopped beside you, arms folded, gaze fixed on the horizon. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, softly, he said “You ever think about what it’d be like to never go back?”

You opened your eyes. “To land?”

He nodded. “To anything. No rules. No chains.”

You smiled, cautious. “ To truly be free” you let out a soft hum.

He turned to you then, eyes catching the light. “I want you to have it. Freedom, with me.”

Your heart stuttered. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “You belong here. You’re not like them.” 

You laughed, but it came out hollow. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough.” he said, voice low.  You looked away, suddenly uneasy.

Something in his tone made your stomach twist. You chose to ignore it. You craved him. You wanted to be by his side.

Still, the words lingered. He hadn’t said with us. He’d said with me.

You glanced at the crew scattered across the deck. San adjusting the sails, Seonghwa cleaning his blade, Wooyoung laughing with Mingi. None of them looked your way. None of them smiled.

You were here. But not one of them.

It was suddenly, painfully clear.

But again, you chose to ignore it. Your heart was too forgiving. Too hopeful.

Jongho stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your hip. “You don’t need anyone else.” he murmured. “I’ll take care of you.”

The breeze shifted. The sea darkened, just slightly.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Okay.”

He kissed your temple, soft and possessive.

Hongjoong laid the papers across the table. Maps, letters, and peacekeeping documents. He ran a hand through his hair, visibly agitated.

“The nerve of these neanderthals to ask for a peace treaty.” he muttered, jaw tight. “Afraid of becoming a target, so they pull this bullshit.”

Seonghwa leaned over the large wooden table, the document, assessing the situation. “They want access to the left passage. But why? There’s nothing there.”

“Exactly!” Hongjoong snapped. “Either they know something we don’t. Which I doubt. Or they’re just stupid.” He let out a sharp exhale of breath. “a fucking peace treaty with terms and fucking conditions.” He said almost to himself. He dropped into his chair with a sigh, the wood groaning beneath him.

“We can grant them access to the left passage, no problem.” he continued. “In return, we get a hefty payment and fewer headaches in the western quarter.”

He then added, a little too casually “And as a gesture of good faith… they can have the girl. Show them we’re serious.”

Mingi, lounging nearby, nodded. “I like your thinking, Captain.”

Jongho’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, get the girl?”

Hongjoong didn’t flinch. “As much as we don’t need this treaty, Jongho, it’s leverage. If they spread word that we’re cooperative, we gain leads, influence. It’s mutually beneficial. We’re not doing this out of weakness or for less bloodshed”

“She’s not part of this” Jongho said, voice low.

“She’s not crew.” Seonghwa added, matter of fact. “She’s a guest. Temporary.”

Jongho’s fists clenched at his sides. “She trusted us.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, eyes sharp. “She trusted you. That’s not the same thing.”

The room fell silent.

Outside, the sea whispered against the hull, as if it already knew what was coming.

Months passed, and everything began to feel normal. You formed relationships with the crew, friendly, fulfilling. It seemed like they finally saw you as one of their own. You learned new skills, discovered secrets, even began gossiping with the others over late night watches and shared meals.

Everything felt right.

But beneath it all, a quiet dread stirred. A small seed in the pit of your stomach, sown and beginning to grow.

You didn’t know what it would become.

Later that night the sky was bruised with storm clouds when they led you to the dock of an unknown destination.

You didn’t understand at first. You thought it could possibly be a supply run. You walked beside Jongho, your fingers brushing his, heart steady in your chest. The crew was quiet. Too quiet.

Then you saw them.

The enemy ship. You recognised them from a bloody encounter from a while back. Black sails. Rusted steel. Men with cruel eyes and hands that twitched near their weapons.

You stopped walking. Digging your heels into the ground. “What is this?” you asked, voice tight, feeling your throat start to sting.

Jongho didn’t look at you, but he did take the time to shove you forward. Now you were stood between the two crews,eyes darting around paranoid and terrified.

Hongjoong stepped forward, his expression carved from stone. “A treaty” he said.

Your stomach dropped. “And I’m the offering?”

No one answered.

You turned to Jongho, eyes wide. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

He swallowed hard. “It’s just until things settle. You’ll be safe.” Liar. You thought

“Safe?” you spat. “With them?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at the boards beneath his feet like they held answers.

“You promised me freedom.” you whispered. “You said I belonged here.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” he said, voice barely audible.

You laughed, bitter and broken. “You had a choice. You just didn’t choose me.”

The enemy captain stepped forward, grinning. “We’ll take good care of them. Right guys!” cheers erupted from the other clan. Your stomach clenched.

You felt the hands then, rough, unkind and grabbing your arms too tightly, pulling you toward the ship. You kicked, screamed, fought, digging your nails into the man’s arm, nails piercing the skin, scratching like hell. Your nails now covered in blood. Everyone watched you, tears streaking your cheeks, the weight of every wrong decision pressing down on your chest.

No one stopped them.

Jongho didn’t move.

You locked eyes with him one last time. “I hope the sea swallows you whole.” 

And then you were gone.

Dragged aboard a ship that smelled of blood and rot. Thrown into a cell. Stripped of dignity. Used. Bruised. Broken.

But not forgotten.

Because the sea remembered.

And soon, it would answer.

Once you were dragged aboard, they led you down a narrow staircase, the air growing colder with each step. The light dimmed, swallowed by shadows, lit only by oil lamps that flickered against damp wood and rusted iron. At the bottom, a small cell stood waiting, Iron bars framing a straw-lined floor, a single chain bolted to the wall like a threat. The walls dripped with condensation and the scent of mildew thick in the air.

This was now your home. No words were spoken. No explanation given. Just the sound of the lock clicking shut behind you, sealing your fate in silence.

Your time on that ship broke you. Bruises bloomed across your skin, fingerprints etched into your thighs, your arms, your face. They grabbed you like property, whispered filth into your ears, made you a slave to their whims. You became frail. Hollow. A ghost in your own body.

But you held on.

You told yourself it was temporary. That Jongho would come. That the crew who laughed with you, drank with you, touched you like you mattered. would fight for you.

They didn’t. You realised the last few months with them was nothing more than a show, a facade. You went to be sick, but your body was filled with nothing.

You were traded like coin. Left in the arms of enemies who saw you as nothing more than leverage. Jongho didn’t fight. He didn’t scream. He didn’t come.

So you stopped waiting.

You became hostile. Violent. You spat in their faces, clawed at their throats, shattered plates and bones alike. You refused to play house with criminals. You refused to be soft. They didn’t like that.

After an altercation with a crew member, his breath sour, his hands rough. You were left lifeless on the deck. Blood in your mouth and salt in your lungs. You had fought like hell. But it wasn’t enough.

They tossed your body overboard near a jagged island, thinking the sea would finish what they started. But the ocean didn’t devour you, it cradled you.

The waves wrapped around your broken form, pulled you into the deep, sheltered you from the rage above. And there, in the dark, something stirred. The sea stitched you back together, not with flesh but with fury. Scales shimmered where skin once bled. Your voice became a weapon. Your eyes, a curse. A siren.

You didn’t rise from the water. You became it.

The ocean didn’t just mend your wounds, it built you back up, bone by bone. Breath by breath. It filled your lungs with salt and song, replaced your heartbeat with the rhythm of the tide. You were no longer a human who had been betrayed. You were vengeance incarnate.

Your skin shimmered beneath the moonlight, kissed by scales and shadow. Your voice, once soft and pleading, now carried the weight of storms. It could lull a man to sleep or drag him screaming into the abyss. You learned the language of the deep. The whispers of drowned sailors. The lullabies of forgotten wrecks. The sea taught you how to hunt. How to haunt. How to sing.

You sang for every bruise. Every stolen breath. Every promise broken beneath deck sheets and moonlit lies.

Then you took action. Ships began to vanish. First the men who took your life, you made it slow, painful and taunting. Next men who sought pleasure in port towns never returned. Their vessels found days later. Stories of your actions started to spread like wildfire.

You found HIM years later, his ship cutting through familiar waters, bold and unaware. He stood at the bow, wind in his hair, eyes scanning the horizon. Still as beautiful as you remembered.

He seemed peaceful, happy. Until he saw you.

A flicker beneath the surface. A face he thought he’d long forgotten.

You rose slowly, deliberately, emerging to the surface. Your black eyes met his. Recognition bloomed. Then terror.

He stumbled back.

Of course that’s how the story goes. That’s how the myth of the siren’s song came to be. You lured one of the most powerful pirate crews to their death. Eight men swallowed by the sea, their ship never found, their names etched into tavern whispers and sailor prayers.

The sea cradled them now.

Eight men, scattered in the water like offerings. Their limbs moved slowly, not from exhaustion but enchantment. The song had drawn them in, soft and sweet, like honey laced with poison. They didn’t fight it. Couldn’t.

Jongho floated closest, his eyes locked on yours. Salty water clung to his lashes. His lips trembled.

You swam to him, the water parting like it knew you. Like it feared you.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

You reached for him, cupping his face with hands that no longer felt human. Cold. Smooth. Scaled. He flinched, but didn’t pull away.

You tilted his chin up, meeting his gaze.

“Y/N?” he whispered, voice barely audible over the waves. “Is it really you?”

You laughed. A jagged, manic sound that echoed across the water.

“Yes, yes! it is!” Your smile was cruel. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was enough.

“oh cat got you tongue?” 

His breath hitched. You leaned in, Jongho’s hands rise, hesitating at your waist. Not to pull you close. To hold you back. your lips brush his.

He hesitated but you didn’t. The kiss was cold. Final. A seal on the fate he’d chosen the moment he stepped into the sea.

When you pulled away, his eyes were wide. Not with love. With fear.

You smiled, flashing him your teeth, sharp and dangerous. Terror took over his features.

Then you sang.

The song rose again, no longer sweet. It was mournful now. A dirge. A lullaby for the damned. The waves surged, wrapping around you like silk. You let go of him, letting the current take him deeper.

Jongho reached for you but the ocean was faster.

You disappeared beneath the surface, voice still echoing, still calling.

And the crew began to sink.

One by one.

You listened to their screams and watched their struggle.

They say you sang from the rocks, hair tangled with seaweed, eyes glowing like moonstone. This part was wrong…oh so wrong. 

They say the ocean turned black that night. That the waves rose unnaturally high, and the lighthouse keeper saw shadows dancing on the water, too graceful to be human. They say you were cursed. A woman scorned. A lover betrayed. With a voice that was honeyed and hollow. That the sea gave you power in exchange for your pain. That you sing still, waiting for the next fool to mistake longing for love. And that, that was right.

"Y/n?" You hear a soft voice calling out for you and you cringe a bit. Your senses were still on high alert so it took you a moment to process that it was your boyfriend's voice.

"Jongho?" you whimper out and then you're scrambling out of your closet, to the silhouette of him in your bedroom doorway. "Baby, are you ok?" he asks, flicking on the light. He takes in your tear streaked face and the big hoodie you're drowning in.

He immediately puts down his bag and guitar case, then rushes to your side. "Baby, shh, it's ok. What's going on?" He asks, his eyes wide. He knows that look, and that you only wear his clothing to bed when you're having an especially bad night.

He is rubbing your arms as he pulls you into his chest, looking around the room. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you lean into him, inhaling his scent.

"Did you have a nightmare?" he asks, kissing the top of your head. "Mmmmm" you mutter and he draws you over to the bed. He sits down and pulls you into his lap, concern washing over his features.

"Why didn't you text or call me?" he asks and you just melt into him, winding your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. "Didn't want to bother you." you whisper and he sighs.

"Babe, you can always bother me. I don't care if I'm on tour or doing something in the studio." he says, drawing you back so he can look at your face. His thumbs wipe at the tears silently falling from your eyes.

You smile at him and he smiles back, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You're not a bother, anyhow. You make me happy even when you just say good morning to me." You reach up and touch his face, then he's drawing you in to kiss you sweetly.

"I'm here now. You are safe. I'm not leaving. Look how tired you are, baby." he's cooing at you and you nod, knowing the bags under your eyes are horrid. "You've been having them since I left last week, haven't you?" he sighs and shakes his head. You bite your lip and nod, shrugging.

"It's fine, they are just silly nightmares." You say, feeling childish. "You're not silly at all, it's alright to be afraid of things." he kisses your nose and you smile wider, loving his cute side.

"You're not scared of anything." you pout at him and his face gets serious. "Oh yes I am." he says and you look at him curiously. "You are?" you ask, sincerely curious. Jongho was always so stoic and calm when it came to the scarier things you'd done together. You've never seen him afraid.

"I'm afraid of losing you, and I'm afraid of not being here when you need me." He says and you feel tears well up all over again.

"I love you." he says and kisses you again, deeper this time. You melt into him and sigh. He gently settles you on the bed and goes over to his guitar case, opening it up.

Grabbing it out and setting himself back on the bed, he pats his thigh. "Lay your head down and relax. I'll play you a song." he says, kissing the top of your head.

Happily, you curl up next to him, laying your head on his leg and stare up at him, as he starts to strum and he hums softly.

"I love you too," you whisper as you drift off, the sound of his sweet voice and the guitar chasing away the nightmares.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey....really....Y/n, you're scaring us. Seriously." Wooyoung was standing back, his arms crossed, glaring. They'd shoved you inside the apartment and San was currently trying to force ....drink? you. He was holding a cup of water and was trying to force it down your throat. You push him away with a sigh. "Stop! I'm fine, I said!" San huffs and slams the cup down on the table, making you jump.

"You didn't look fine, outside the door all in a heap!!!" He yells at you. "Shit, sorry Y/n. I'm sorry." He kneels down and pats your head. "Why do you always make me worry about you? Huh?" Wooyoung was doing big nods to back up San's statements and you couldn't help but burst out laughing. San glares back at Woo and the latter just shrugs at him. "Oh my god, really. I just got back from...my date...and well..." They both perk up, then San is frowning. "Wait, did he do something-"

You hold up your hand to stop them before they can run with it. "No no no, nothing bad at all. Actually, quite the opposite." you sigh, "You jerks! I seriously don't even know with you two, I'm so confused!" You pull your hair and put your hands in your face dramatically.

"Wait, how did we...oh yeah the dare!" Woo chirps and you nod, not taking your face from your hands. "So? It's still a date." San pipes up, petting you. "Yeah see, that's just it. I'd convinced myself that it wasn't actually a date. I mean, yeah it was but like...I don't even know. I guess I'd tried to keep the excitement down, you know?"

A door slams behind you and you hear voices coming in. San just keeps petting you, his lower lip pouted out, nodding along in overly dramatic understanding. "Mhm, I get it, you haven't gone out with anyone in a long time, Y/n. You're like, all dusty and dried up like-" You put your hand over his mouth before he can say anything else. "Ew stop, don't be mean." Woo is cackling behind him and you roll your eyes. "Anyhow, despite your long hiatus, how was it? Fun? Did you make out??" San rattling on when you hear the voices from the door come closer. "Who made out with whom now?" Mingi says, bouncing over and plopping down beside you. "Ohhh hoooo...!" You can hear Yunho and you cover your face again.

Just when you were actually thinking about how nice it was living with these guys, they remind you of how nosy they can be. "Oh stop, it's none of your business if I did or didn't make out with anyone. Can we not talk about my date....? Did you all eat? Can I make you something?" You latch onto the idea and bounce out of your chair, going about pulling out random things as they all protest behind you but not one of the denies being fed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finishing up the dishes after everyone has been fed, you find yourself soaking in a hot bubble bath. The guys had all decided to disperse and do their own thing, with San and Woo heading out to do god knows what. Mingi and Yunho wouldn't come barging in or cause a bunch of chaos this late, so you could actually relax completely and take in the days events.

Some low music playing, the lights dimmed and the floral scent of the bath water has your eyes hooded. Were you actually thinking of going on another date with Yeosang? You'd been so conflicted about everything that you'd torn your mindset in two trying to figure out how to act, so you weren't able to truly get a vibe from him all night. You were too concerned about being friendly and not thinking too much about romance.

Then he'd ended the night with that sweet kiss and a proclamation of interest in you.

Of course, you were curious and interested too. I mean, just the other day, you'd admitted in your mind that you've developed a crush on the quietly gorgeous man. And besides, it's not like Seonghwa was vying for your affections, despite-

Wait...why were you even thinking about him again? You pout and grunt, sliding your body down into the bubbles until just your eyes and nose were poking out. This would be a great opportunity to have some fun alone time too with yourself, but it was ruined because you had no idea who to fantasize about.

"WAHHHHHH! GRRRR!" you yell out and splash around in frustration.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week had passed since you'd had your date and Yeosang and you had exchanged some very nice texts, but nothing about a follow up date yet. You figure he is likely waiting for you to make that decision, but between school and work, your life had been busy. He'd mentioned also having a very tight schedule so you weren't in any rush to push it at the moment.

Walking in the door after a particularly hectic day, you sigh and go into the kitchen without looking up at the antics coming from the living room. Probably some online gaming thing, you think, putting the few groceries away. "Hey, if anyone can hear me, should I make something or did you already eat?" you yell.

"Hmmm....whatcha cookin, sexy lady?" You hear as big arms wrap around you from behind and you're lifted off your feet with a squeal. You'd know that voice and that teasing tone anywhere.

"JONGHO!!!!!" You yell and immediately turn around and launch yourself into his arms for a big bear hug. He doesn't disappoint. "Hahaha, missed me, then?" You just grin and hug him again, then pull back to look at him. "Nah, not at all." You pretend and he smiles even bigger.

"Wooooah look at you, have you been working out?" You ask, squeezing his arms and sizing him up. It'd been almost a year since he'd gone off to study and train his vocals and you'd missed him dearly. A part of you felt finally complete with all of your closest friends nearby now. Not gonna cry, you think, smiling and squishing his cheeks.

"Just a little." He says and you both smile. "Well, crap. I didn't pick up anything special to cook, I had no idea you were coming back!" You yell, looking around. "Hm, we were thinking that we'd all go out and grab something, maybe have a few drinks to celebrate. What do you think, Y/n?" The rest of the guy had all come into the kitch. They are all nodding at you. You take in all five handsome faces.

Nothing sounds better as you smile at all your guys looking back at you. "I'd love nothing more!" You say and bounce off to get ready, their laughter following you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Y/n, I heard that you went on a date finally?" Jongho asks as you bring your attention back towards him. You'd all gone to dinner and now you were walking into a bar/club of some sort that San and Wooyoung had begged everyone to go to. You'd think they'd be exhausted from all the dancing in the practice room, but there they were, running off to let off their endless amounts of energy.

"Yeah...." You sigh. "It's...complicated." His eyebrow raises at you. "Complicated? How so? Let it out on me, Y/n." You puff out a breath and look around. Yunho and Mingi had gone off to get drinks, San and Woo were off dancing. It was just you two.

Out of all the guys, Jongho was the more mature, even though he was slightly younger. He'd also been the most calm when it came to talking about issues, making you feel as if he were truly listening to you and understanding what you needed, and it really helped you through some of the rougher patches.

Making the choice to share since it was just the two of you, you let him in on the dare, the date, and how confused you'd felt since it'd been a long time. You didn't mention Seonghwa or those thoughts but you alluded to other factors giving you pause. Luckily, in Jongho fashion, he seemed to understand and didn't pry at all.

"So let me get this straight. Those idiots suckered you two into a date with each other, where you had a great time. But you're wary because you hadn't let yourself actually open yourself to the idea that the man, who you mentioned was attractive to you, was actually interested?" You nod. "And furthermore, he initiated contact with you, to back up that interest. And expressed a desire to see you again." You nod once again. "Hmm.." Patiently you wait for his thoughts. He made it all sound so simple.

"Well, you're definitely leaving something out but I am not going to ask. But whatever that thing is, it must be dealt with instead of buried... Y/n, I adore you and I'm saying this for your own good, ok?" He looks at you with care and you nod, listening intently. "We've been friends for a long time and I've personally seen the damage you can put yourself through just to punish yourself. I just want you to realize that you're allowed to be happy." You feel tears sting your eyes and you nod, looking down. He definitely got you so well. He tilts your head up by your chin and smiles at you. "Hey look though, I'm here now and I won't stand for you to say rude things about my friend, so be nice to yourself." You snort and you both laugh. "You're so cheesy."

"Yeah, yeah. But really, just go with it. See where it ends up, at the very least, maybe you'll have another friend to add to your collection of us handsome guys! But I think he's actually interested, from what you said. Guys don't normally end a date with skinship, let alone a kiss if they don't want to see you again romantically."

"Oh hey, drinks!" Jongho interjects, ending the conversation and you turn to greet the guys.

Only to be met with the dark eyes of Seonghwa standing with them, right behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why does it always seem like he's glaring at me? You think, sighing. He was the last person you wanted to see. Unconsciously, you grip onto Jongho's arm for support.

"Oh hey." You say, just trying to play off that you weren't just complaining about things to Jongho and you had no idea if he'd overheard. "Hey." He says right back, his eyes holding yours for a moment. "Oh Hwa, this is our friend Jongho, the one I told you about! He just got back, that's why we'd decided to come out. Glad you could come meet us!" Yunho chimes in, introducing the two. Jongho half notices you clinging to his arm but doesn't push you away.

You slowly let go and take a drink from Mingi, who puts an arm around you. "Good to be back together, huh Y/n?" He smiles down at you and you nod, smiling back. "Yeah, really nice. Why is he here?" You say out of the side of your mouth and Mingi's brows furrow. "Huh? Hwa? I dunno, we were all discussing something in our work chat group and mentioned a friend coming back and that we'd be out. We invited him, naturally. Why?" He asks and you shake your head. "Oh no reason, just curiosity!" You almost yell and take a large drink from your cup. "Oh...ok." He says, frowning then shrugging and moving on.

The night goes on, and you continue to drink, chatting with your friends and doing your best to avoid looking at Hwa for too long. You'd gotten a text from Yeosang earlier letting you know he was going to be gone for the next few days so your idea of inviting him out was squashed. Everyone had gotten into their own discussions about life abroad for Jongho, work related issues for Seonghwa and the others, San and Wooyoung bragging about their dancing and Woo proclaiming he'd found his true passion.

Watching everyone so involved in conversation, you decide to go get yourself another drink and take a few moments away from all of them. Coming out of the restroom, you stop and just collect your thoughts. "Woo, tipsy.." you think and shake your head. Making your way to the bar, you feel yourself getting into the beat of the music and ponder what cocktail you'd like to order yourself. While you wait for the bartender dealing with the crowd, you sway your hips along with the beat.

"Yeah baby, keep moving those hips, daddy like." you hear close behind you and a hand is touching your lower back, far too low for your liking. "Eh?" you say, turning too quickly and pulling away. "Oh c'mon honey, don't stop the show. I'm enjoying the view" he winks and you resist the urge to pop the guy right in the nose right then.

He's much taller than you but not very big. He just looks like one of those club crawling guys, far too much hair gel and teeth too big, like a predator. "Gross. No, go away." You say and turn back around, dismissing him. "Hey hey hey, now. You're up here lookin all pretty, dressed that way, swaying those plump little hips. Don't act like you don't want some attention, maybe a little more.... Lemme buy you a drink, baby."

Pretending to gag, you cover your mouth in a mocking way. "Oh dear, you're so cliche, I'm gonna puke." You roll your eyes at him and go back to ignoring him again. "Listen, bitch. I'm just tryin to be nice, tryin to give you some attention. You're not even that hot, all alone here at a club, looking for someone like me to get some drinks out of. Ain't I right?" His hand is back on your lower back. He sneers at you and it must be the drinking, the pawing at you or maybe just his words that are so disgusting that you can't help yourself. You spin back around and stomp directly on his foot with the heel of your shoe.

The satisfaction of his reaction, cursing and spitting in pain is slow lived as the bastard grabs you by the arm and hauls you towards him, fury in his eyes. "Fucking slut, you bitch, Ill--"

"The fuck you will! Get your fucking hands off of her!" You hear and Seonghwa's enraged face is behind the guy one moment, and the next, you're being pulled away and turned towards someone's chest. "Hey, Y/n, how's it going? You ok? Let's get you a drink, nothing going on behind us, nothing at all." You look up at Yunho and he's not even looking at you, glaring over your head. He turns and waves the bartender over, ordering you something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa watches you walk away, frowning at the little bit of swaying you're doing. You seemed to be more drunk that you were the other night at the party. He wasn't sure about your tolerance but you'd seemed to be able to hold your alcohol well that night. Tonight you weren't even looking at him or talking much.

He'd heard something about a kiss and then you latching onto the new guy, Jongho. Unsure why he felt so irritated yet again in your presence, he just shakes it off and goes back to the conversation.

"Hey, where's Y/n?" Wooyoung asks, him and San having finally come to chill out and hang with everyone. "She walked off a bit ago, probably bathroom." Yunho says and Mingi stands up, looking around over everyone's heads. Seonghwa's eyes are drawn to where Mingi was looking as he says, "Ah there she is. Too far away to call," then he frowns and yells "YAH! Fuck, Y/N! No no no, don't-" as he notices the guy pawing at you and your gestures conveying all that needed to be known.

Seonghwa is already on his feet and moving before Mingi can yell your name, Yunho right behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Trash." San says, Woo echoing him, "Total trash." You were back at the table, nursing your drink and rolling your eyes at them. "Oh c'mon, I could have TOTALLY handled myself, did you see me?" You flex and giggle, taking another sip.

"Yeah, you handled it well alright," Mingi frowns at you, trying to grab the drink from you. "She's drunk, just ....Y/n...stay at the table huh? What's gotten into you? You don't normally drink like this." Yunho asks, worried. "Ha! Not drunk!" You exclaim and smile, "I can outdrink any of you!" You chug the drink in your hand before Mingi gets the glass from you. "Oh boy. Anyhow, where did the other two go?" Mingi asks and looks around.

"Sorry guys, had to take out some trash." Jongho says and plops back down, Seonghwa behind, his face clouded. San grabs Jongho's hands to study them, then Seonghwa, who looks at him confused.

"Is he alive then?" He asks and Jongho just smiles. "We had a nice talk with him in the men's room then I hauled him to the bouncers. He's gone." Everyone glances back and forth at the two men, then at you. You're just swaying along to music and humming, smiling at everyone.

"You're so much trouble, Y/n!" Wooyoung throws his arm around you and laughs. "I LOVE YOU TOO, WOOWOO." You yell and kiss his cheek, drawing a peal of laughter from San. You turn towards the laughing man and grab him to kiss his cheek as well, before exclaiming loudly, "MY SANNIE BOY, I LOVES YOU!"

"Yeah, total trouble. Let's get her home." Jongho says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thump thump thump.

"uhhh.....stop....making the noise." you murmur into your pillow, annoyed.

Thump thump thump thump......

Your eyes slowly open and you realize the noise is in your head, rhythmically throbbing. "Ew, hangover." You mutter and pull the blankets over your head. What time was it?

Peeking at your phone with one eye, you see the time is 09:42am. Ewww too early.....

After trying to close your eyes for a bit to see if you can get anymore sleep, you give up and pull your aching body from the covers. Stumbling out to the bathroom, you walk in and wash your face off, then brushing your teeth. Definitely needed some Tylenol.

Walking out into the kitchen, eyes still half closed, you grab water and guzzle it, suddenly realizing how parched you are. "Thirsty?" You hear over your shoulder and almost spit out the water, knowing the voice immediately.

Seonghwa is standing there in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His hair is mussed and he has sleepy eyes. And he's taking your appearance in as well. Then you realize. You're standing in your kitchen, wearing just an oversized tshirt, a pair of fluffy socks and not much else.

Before you can even think of what to say or how to escape or even how fucking embarrassing this is he blurts out:

"So are you still in love with me or do you hate me? You couldn't seem to decide last night."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Pab*

And there was another one??

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you get up and walk towards your window, going to inspect just what might be disturbing your very much needed peace. 

You proceed to open the window and are met with the crisp night air and a slight breeze which brushes against your skin. You look out, and then down, but there’s nothing strange to catch your attention.

“Pshhhhh.. Y/N~”, you hear a voice whisper out to you from your right, and your head jerks right towards it, eyes landing upon… Jongho?

“Jongho!!??”, you shout in a whisper, eyes wide in surprise and your heart skipping a beat. Are your eyes playing tricks on you? Have you finally lost your mind thanks to that damn essay?

He shoots you a sheepish smile, “Could you let me in? I’m kinda struggling here..”—and that’s when you realize he is crouched onto the branch of your tree. 

Your heart beats just a little bit faster as you move away from the window to give your boyfriend access, but mostly due to him hanging onto your tree the way he currently is. You know he’s strong, but things could still go so wrong, so fast.

As Jongho carefully crawls through your window, you quickly stretch your hand out towards him, and he takes a hold of it for extra support. Once he’s safe inside your bedroom, he proceeds to take off his shoes while still holding your hand. 

“Hi baby~”, he croons, bringing your hand up to his lips and pecks the back of it. This guy…..

“Jongho, what the fuck—“

“Hey, watch your language. Your parents are downstairs sleeping, you’re gonna wake them up!” he warns you, and you shoot him an incredulous look.

“Me? I’m going to wake them up?”, you scoff at him, “Jongho, you can’t just show up to my house without any previous notice. Do you know what time it is!? Why aren’t you sleeping?” you ramble, a bit shaken up by the fact that your boyfriend was actually here right now. 

Jongho looks at the ground while biting his cheek to keep from laughing, but a chuckle escapes, causing you to frown. 

He can’t help it, you’re just too cute when you get flustered and scold him for the silly things he does. 

He then looks up and pulls you towards him, letting go of your hand and opting to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly. He rests his chin on top of your head, and muffles “I just missed you, is all”, into your hair, and then kisses the top of it. Now this made you melt, and you were sure that your heart forgot to beat for a couple seconds. 

“I missed you too”, you reply with a small smile on your lips as you leave a chaste kiss on his jawline.

Last week had been hectic for you, spending your free periods at tutorials which your teachers offered, and lunch in the library working on upcoming assignments. After school was much the same, as you would drive straight home as soon as the release bell rang to lock yourself away in your room, studying into oblivion. You barely got to spend time with Jongho, as the moments you saw him in the hallway or lunchtime were short and rushed. So it was fair to say you missed him, because you did. You really, really, missed him.

And so did he; he missed the scent of your sweet, delicate floral perfume which makes him feel as if flowers are blooming in his lungs every time he hugs you. He missed your voice and bright laugh, which has his heart burst whenever he hears it. He missed your long, soft hair, and how it feels between his fingers whenever he runs his hands through it. He missed your pretty, pink lips, which somehow always taste like strawberries and have him want to have his against yours forever. 

He missed you—everything about you—and he couldn’t spend another week—hell, second—without seeing you. Even if it were for 10 minutes, he had to see you. Properly.

You two stand there in each other's arm for what feels like 2 seconds, when in reality has probably been 5 minutes, taking each other in, before you hear footsteps up the stairs. Shit.

“Jongho, fuck, ah—oh my gosh, get in my closet! I think my parents are coming upstairs, oh shit“, you blurt out in a whisper, so fast that Jongho was slightly impressed. Grabbing his hand you pull him towards your (much too small) closet and push him in. 

“Hey, no noise. Understood??”, you command him, before closing the door. 

Jongho hums, signaling that he understood you, and you rush to sit at your desk and open a textbook, pretending to be studying. There are two knocks on your door before it opens, and there stands your father.

“Y/N?”

“Hey dad”, you smile sweetly at him, “I thought you were sleeping”, you say.

“No, but I am going to bed now. Just wanted to check up on you first.”

“Oh ok”, you reply, hearing your heartbeat in your ears.

"What are you working on?”, he questions you, looking over to the book in your hands.

“Oh, you know…just some last minute studying,” you nonchalantly answer, and he hums, acknowledging your answer.

What’s he doing?, you think to yourself, is he stalling?

Your father then walks towards your bed and sits on the edge of it, facing your closet. Shit..

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”, your father asks you. 

“Hm?” you hum quickly, taken by surprise. 

She’s caught off guard, Jongho thinks to himself; He instantly knew by the way you answered your father, and by the slight quiver in your voice. 

He can only imagine how you look, eyes wide and probably playing with your necklace, the one he gifted you for your one year anniversary, which you never took off. Every time you got nervous you would play with the music note charm, a reminder of him, and Jongho guesses that you are nervous right now. He can just tell.

“O-oh, nothing, I just realized how late it is now.” you respond immediately, recollecting yourself from being caught off guard by your father’s question, and you eye the clock on your bed stand.

“Oh, what a lie,” Jongho thinks to himself, and a small smirk forms on his lips.

He knows why you are nervous; you’re uneasy because he is in your room, late at night, and your parents don’t know—you don’t want them to find out, especially your father. Just imagine what a messy situation that would be! Your father would think all the wrong things, and you would probably be grounded for life and prohibited from seeing Jongho ever again. You really don’t want to risk that.

“I should go to sleep,” you mutter, letting out a fake yawn, and right when you say that is when Jongho somehow realizes that your father is sitting across from where he is hiding.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Jongho’s mind is running wild, and he’s thinking of all the possible scenarios.

Please leave…please please please, he repeats to himself, becoming stiff as adrenaline pumps through his veins.

Your father stands up and hums, and Jongho hears this.

Is he facing me?? Shit, is he going to open the closet? Fuck, oh god, help me,

Jongho's heart races and he’s almost positive that your father can hear it. God, his heart is about to jump out of his chest by how hard it’s beating. It could probably be heard miles away.

“You should”, replies your father, “goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Night, Dad,” you respond, and Jongho hears your door close, signaling your father’s disappearance. Finally.

After your father left, you wait for five minutes to pass, just to make sure that he won’t disturb you once again. 

You sigh in relief and stand from your chair, walking towards your closet. You then open it and find before you a very flustered Jongho, who stands up immediately upon seeing you and dramatically falls into your arms, knocking you over.

A small squeal escapes your lips as you topple over onto your bed and Jongho follows, landing on top of you. It’s not your fault your boyfriend is 10x your size.

Your faces are centimeters apart and your dumbass boyfriend leans in to peck your lips. 

“You are such an idiot, Jongho!” you exclaim, which causes him to burst out laughing, his face scrunching up in pure entertainment.

“No, no, I’m not playing around”, you say, biting your lip in an attempt to keep a straight face. Why is it that every time this boy smiles or laughs you can’t help but do so too? His smile was making you feel warm and your heart dance, and god, you hated that right now because you just want to scold him for doing something so immature and—

Jongho leans in again and captures your lips with his, having all your thoughts halt. 

Your chest feels on fire, and your eyes flutter closed. You appreciate the feeling of Jongho’s plush, soft lips against your own and relax underneath him, taking it all in. How could you have nearly forgotten how wonderful it feels to kiss this amazing boy before you???

Your lips mold perfectly together, and move against each other’s so exquisitely it’s mouth-watering. Jongho brings his hand to gently hold your chin and begins to take control, moving his lips just slightly faster and pressing against yours harder now, letting you feel how much he missed you through his kiss. You separate from him and hold his cheek softly, and he leans into it, looking down at you. 

“I really, really, missed you...” you mumble, admiring the small twinkle garnishing his eyes, “you know you have really pretty eyes?” you ask him.

He lets out a short scoff, smiling goofily at you, 

“Oh do I?” he teases, and you hum in response.

You pull his face down towards yours and hover your lips over his left eye, and he flutters it closed. You press a gentle kiss against his eyelid, and then do the same to his right.

“Very pretty..” you trail off, “looks like you got lil stars in em” you smile softly at him, and Jongho feels his cheeks heat up. 

“They light up only when I see you.. they’re lit up by the fire that ignites in my chest whenever I’m with you,” he replies back, smirking down at you, and now it’s your turn to blush.

“Stop being so poetic,” you smile shyly, kissing his cheek.

He smiles sheepishly at you, “you are my muse~” he says, and you laugh out, a sudden shyness coming over you.

“Com’ere” you say, and wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him towards you to lie down with you.

Jongho lies on his back and you roll over, resting your head on his chest and tangling your legs with his. He gently strokes his fingertips through your hair and you close your eyes, finally feeling at peace.

“Can we stay a bit like this?” you ask him, hoping he won’t leave you now.