THE SWEET LINGERING OF 2014

When Jun turned eighteen, he celebrated it in the practice room surrounded by his twelve brothers who were undoubtedly more excited than he was. Being the fourth oldest in the group, it was almost like there was a routine now when their members were about to have their soulmark coming of age. He doesn’t quite remember how they established the tradition but it was probably something that Seungcheol, Soonyoung and Jihoon had done – as the overall leaders.

He remembered when Seungcheol had turned eighteen and Jun felt overwhelmed for him; it wasn’t the easiest being the oldest of the group and being the person that everyone looked up to. Turning eighteen was sort of a milestone for them, to know what to expect when they too turned eighteen someday. 

He remembered how Seungcheol had blown out the candles on top of the cake set out for him by the staff and looked around as twelve pairs of eyes stared at him.

“Do you feel anything, hyung?” He remembered Seungkwan, who was normally scared of the older boy asking, making Seungcheol shake his head before he paused mid-shake.

Seungcheol's brows furrowed as he let out a groan, holding his head in his hands as the members scrambled around him, asking him what was wrong. “I just got a sudden headache.” Seungcheol managed to mutter out before Jun saw the staff noting it down onto their tablet.

That was the start of the routine: with Seungcheol getting the Pain Soulmark, Jeonghan celebrating next and getting a number written on his wrist and Joshua who thought he was markless, had shrieked in the toilet finding a faint silhouette of a handprint on his chest. 

Jun fiddled with his fingers as they wrapped up practice in the green room, looking at the cake that the staff had prepared as the rest of the members were buzzing with anticipation, more specifically Soonyoung.

“Jun!” Soonyoung exclaimed, making the former jump in surprise as the energetic boy grabbed both his shoulders. “Are you excited?”

Jun opened his mouth to respond but Soonyoung had already breezed past. “I can’t believe you’re getting your mark today and I’ll be getting mine in 5 days time!”

Jun blinked as Soonyoung continued to ramble on and on about how excited he was for the mark and how he couldn’t wait to meet his other half. He managed to tune the boy out as he glanced towards Chan and Minghao at the side who were staring at the older boy with amusement and unamusement respectively. The latter glanced at Jun, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if the older boy was okay. Jun let out a tentative smile and nod, not wanting to alert the younger boy of his nerves.

Jun watched as Minghao’s eyebrows furrow, seemingly not believing him but lets the topic drop as the staff gathered the boys, placing the cake in front of Jun. Jun glanced at the cake, nerves pricking the edges of his skin before he felt someone brush up against his side. He turned to see Minghao sitting to his right, placing a hand on his with a reassuring smile, stopping the unconscious fiddling of fingers that Jun was doing.

“Don’t be nervous.” Minghao whispered to him in their native tongue. “You’ve been waiting for this day for ages.”

He was right.

To say that Jun was excited to get his mark, would be an understatement. Ironic, he thinks, even as he grew up in a slightly broken home where his parents had gotten divorced when he was two years old. His father and mother got married knowing that they weren’t soulmates, almost as if they were trying to game the system. His mother told him that they were happily married for a while before his father had found his actual soulmate and that was the end of their marriage. He remembered her comparing it to a ticking timebomb. They loved each other but they didn't complete each others' souls.

He remembered how much pain she was holding even as she decided to raise him on her own, challenging every social norm as a single mother before fate finally brought her soulmate to her. Bumping into each other at a supermarket that was actually out of the way from where his mother normally goes, a true meet cute if you asked him.

Fast forward many years later, they’re happily married and Jun has never felt more loved.

He snapped out of his thoughts as the members began to sing happy birthday, making him give a small smile as he made a wish and blew out the candles right as the clock struck twelve.

“Do you feel anything?” Soonyoung burst out before yelping as Jihoon smacked the back of his head, hissing at him to calm down. Jun began to search his limbs for marks, words or anything that would be an indication that he has a soulmate. Coming back blank made his heart sink. He couldn’t be markless, could he?

He felt Minghao press more into his right side, a hug it seems as he watched the members quieten down upon seeing his reaction.

He takes a sharp inhale. “I don’t feel anything.” he softly said as he fiddled with his fingers, silently cursing himself.

He wanted to be strong for his younger members, especially because he knew that the thought of being markless scared the maknaes more than they’d like to admit, especially Chan. 

He plastered on a fake smile, swallowing his emotions before taking the plastic knife and cutting into the cake in front of him. “It’s fine,” he muttered out. “It might be something that can’t be seen or felt… I think I just need to be patient.”

The tension in the room was palpable. The members glanced at each other as Jun pretended not to notice, his heart wrenching slightly as he wished that he could cut the tension with the knife in his hand.

Jun felt himself going on autopilot, continuing to cut the cake as his head swirled with doubts. Why didn’t he get a soulmark? Was he just not fated to have a soulmate? Was there something wrong with him?

He felt his spiral halt when he felt arms drape around his shoulders, as someone leaned on him. He peered up to see Seungkwan hanging off him, almost nonchalantly. Seungkwan raised an eyebrow at Jun’s staring before nudging him, urging him to continue to cut the cake.

Before he could, the knife was plucked out of his hand making Jun peer up to see Seungcheol, who nudged Jun out of the way to sit in front of the cake.

“Move.” Seungcheol said, nudging Jun away again as he continued cutting from where Jun left off. 

Jun blinked at the older boy before a plate was shoved into his hands. “Eat your birthday cake Jun!” Jeonghan singsonged, sticking a fork into the cake. “You know it’s bad luck if the birthday boy doesn’t eat his own cake first?”

Jun managed a weak smile at the older boy before he noticed words appear on Jeonghan’s arm: a sign from his soulmate. Jeonghan glanced at it, a small smile on his lips before placing his arm behind his back, away from prying eyes.

“Oops, made the missus mad.”

“You shouldn’t even be lying so much in the first place.” Minghao muttered, bringing a piece of the cake to his mouth. “The poor girl probably has so many numbers and words staining her skin everyday.” Jeonghan flicked his forehead, making the younger boy yelp before turning back to Jun.

“Better eat up, otherwise the lie would be for nothing.” Jeonghan said pointedly, but Jun could hear the faint fondness in his tone that could've been missed if they hadn’t spent the past two years training with each other.

Jeonghan took a plate before skipping towards the other end of the room, no doubt to tease (read, infuriate) his soulmate by lying so that he can talk to her. Jun peered at the cake in his hands before looking around the room to where all his members sat.

Seungcheol, who was cutting the cake while talking to Joshua, who was helping him to plate them whilst nodding, invested in their conversation as he passed the plate to Jihoon without even looking at him. Jihoon then passed it to Mingyu and Chan, who were sitting in the corner eating the cake with Vernon and Soonyoung. Mingyu, Chan and Soonyoung were talking animatedly while Vernon watched them, smiling at their comments.

He peered to the other corner of the room where Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Seokmin were, cracking jokes before his eyes ended up at Minghao who was leaning against him and Seungkwan who was hanging off of him. He watched as Minghao fed Seungkwan a piece of cake before feeding himself some and Jun smiled fondly as his thoughts calmed down.

Maybe he wasn't destined to have a soulmate but fate was kind enough to send him something else, something better. It sent him twelve brothers who really knew him in their heart and they really knew his soul. He felt the lingering of something on his tongue, some sweet thing that he couldn't name as he felt his heart swell at the information that he had just digested which made his smile grow even wider and softer.

Minghao nudged him. "Are you okay?" he asked softly in their native tongue as Seungkwan turned towards him as well. Jun nodded, using his fork to cut through the cake and placed it into his mouth tasting the sweet cream of the cake before turning to the two younger boys and giving them a smile.

"Never better."

However, even as the taste of the cake faded, Jun remained oblivious to the sweet taste on the tip of his tongue.

THE ACCOSTED MALA TASTEBUDS OF 2016

The moment the clock struck midnight on your eighteenth birthday, you swore your soulmate hated his tastebuds.

To your parents, turning eighteen was on par or even more important than turning twenty-one. Soulmates was all your parents ever talked about, how they were friends turned lovers when they both had turned eighteen. Their only wish was that you and your siblings could experience the same. So, when you were on the cusp of turning eighteen, they pulled out all the stops.

“Mum,” you started, staring at the wall of decorations and table filled with presents that looked like it was one more present away from collapsing on the floor. “I think you might have gone a tad bit o–” Your older brother immediately covered your mouth before you could finish your sentence. “—outdone! She meant outdone mum! It looks amazing!” Your brother finished for you, giving you a side-eye that said ‘proceed with caution’ which made you roll your eyes at the older boy.

Your mum breezed at your brother's comment. “Thank you dear! Just trying to make sure your sister gets the same party that we did for you last year!” She exclaimed as she made her way to the storeroom to possibly get more streamers.

You silently mourned all the lost trees before turning to your brother, crossing your arms. “You didn’t need to step in Chris.”

“And let you ruin mum and dad’s best day ever?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Yeah right.”

“You do know it’s my birthday right?”

“Yeah but you don’t care as much about this as them, so let them have it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Unlike your parents, eighteen really didn’t mean that much to you, you were going to be bound to a stranger for the rest of your life which meant that the next few years of your life would be going on dates, questioning if this was the right person or if the soulmarks match up and if they didn’t, it was inevitable that there's either no second date, or a break-up.

You practically didn’t really believe in soulmates either. Why did the universe have to decide who was the best person for you to match with? Why couldn’t you make the decision yourself?

“Besides,” Chris continued, taking a seat on the streamer draped couch. “You are their one shot right now at proving their stories are true.”

“You’re talking as if you aren’t turning nineteen and that Hannah and Lucas are not going to have the same celebration when they turn eighteen.”

“But,” Chris pointed at you to emphasize his point. “You’re their only shot right now.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother. "And whose fault is that huh?"

Chris feigned an offended look and exasperatedly gasped as you plopped down onto the couch next to him. “What?!”

You smacked his shoulder as he let out a yelp. “Don’t ‘what’ me,” you said, continuing to hit him despite his protests. “If you didn’t decide to join the label, you’d probably have found your soulmate by now!”

Your older brother Chris was also known as Bang Chan to the rest of the world. Having been musically talented since young, it was almost inevitable that he would end up becoming an idol in Korea. That meant crushing your parents' dream of him finding his soulmate early as he was still a trainee and that meant that dating was a huge no-no.

You were happy for him, you truly were. Being his younger sister, you had first dibs on listening to all his garage or attic produced music and you couldn’t be more proud of what your brother has achieved, especially with his upcoming debut.

What you weren’t happy with was the fact that while your parents were struggling with the news, Chris had the awesome idea to throw you under the bus in his stead. He stated that it was the reason you were born a year after him, making you the perfect candidate to live out their stories which turned their attention onto you.

You felt like throwing him under an actual bus as soon as he had suggested that.

“I’m sor- ow - sorry, can we plea– OW, stop assaulting me with the pillow!” Chris yelped out as you kept hitting him with the pillow. “I should be using things other than pillows for the pressure you put me under, its too much!” You spat out, hitting him a few more times before he caught the pillow and ripped it out of your grasp.

“Okay! Okay! I get it.” Chris said, dodging your movement of getting the pillow back. “I’m sorry for putting you under this much pressure but,” He shot you a look. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious as to what your soulmark is.”

“You know about my thoughts on soulmates Chris.” You said softly, sinking back into the couch as you eyed the decorations sprinkled across the family living room. “I just hate that my life feels like it's predetermined just because of this person that I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with.”

You couldn’t bear to look at your brother although you could already feel his eyes on you as silence enveloped the living room. “Maybe you aren’t scared of the person,” Chris started slowly, making you raise your head to meet his eyes, “but more of the uncertainity that comes with it.”

His tone was soft but his words were firm and hit harder than you thought it would. He had a point, he always did. “Don’t be scared, the universe decided them for you, whoever it is, they are meant to be half of your own soul. I was scared when I got my soulmark too.” Chris said softly, his fingers tracing the half tattoo on his forearm. “But they will love you for who you are, and what you will become. You’re amazing and they will definitely see all those trademarks too.”

Your nerves dissipated little by little as your brother's words sunk in. “Thank you Channie.” you breathe out as you give your brother a side hug. He gave you a side smile, hugging you back as he used his other hand to ruffle your hair.

“Can’t wait to see who will actually match this gremlin energy of yours.” He joked which made you let out a scoff, playfully giving him a small smack on his side as he continued to laugh before he abruptly quietened.

You peered up at him and your heart sank a little as you watched him stare at the half tattoo, his eyes filled with hope and longing. You felt a little guilty for chastising your brother so much, unlike you, he didn’t have a choice of taking steps to finding his soulmate unless he meets her at the label or through shoots. He would need to actually wait for fate to take the reign and bring her to him.

You reached out and grasped his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “You know,” you started slowly, giving him the time to lock eyes with you. “I read somewhere that if you trace the soulmark, your soulmate can feel that you're thinking about them.”

Chris stared at you, his eyes widening slightly. “Did you just quote a soulmate myth?”

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly as you attempted to glare at your brother. “Don’t push it.”

His face broke out into a mischievous grin. “Look at you, Miss I-Don’t-Believe-In-Soulmates.”

You groaned at his words as you gave him a shove. “Shut up!”

He chuckled a little more before looking straight at you, his grin softening into a soft smile. “You really think she can feel it?”

You mirrored his soft smile. “I’m sure she can Channie. I’m sure you’ll feel it when she does it too.”

Chris gives you a smile back before bumping your shoulder. "So, tell me about the internship!"

Your grin got wider at that, making you sit up straighter, fully facing your older brother.

Ever since you could remember, food had been a big part of your life, almost like how music was apart of your big brothers. Like how producing and music came easy to him, baking came easy to you.

Baking had been your safe space for as long as you could remember. When you were younger, your mother had been trying to bake a red velvet cake for Chris's seventh birthday. Being six and looking up to your mother, you wanted to try it as well. Your mother relented after you had begged her multiple times and was shocked when you were a whiz in the kitchen.

You could crack eggs, take measurements as if it was written in your blood and mix with the hands of a master baker. You were a natural and that was where you fell in love with it.

From that experience, was where you earned the nickname, Red. Part of it was because you were a whiz in the kitchen, but the main reason was because your parents had caught you, dead in the night, the day after your brother's birthday, stuffing your face with the remaining cake. With all the frosting all over your mouth and having eaten almost half of the remainder, it was endearing to say the least.

As you grew older, you opened a food blog, upon Chris's request as a way for him to keep tabs on your food journey even when he was in Korea doing his music. You learned how to take proper pictures, what were the right words to use for describing the food you were making, how to hook people to the blog as well as how to put a touch of yourself in all the baked crafts that you created.

Which lead you to this exact moment.

Two months ago, Gourmet Traveler posted that they were looking for an intern for the summer break that was willing to learn all that they had to offer. Being a huge fan since you were young, you spent many late nights perfecting your CV, perfecting every blog post that you had as well as preparing a video to state why you were the perfect fit for the role.

You spent the better half of your exam period, checking your emails for a response and upon seeing the ad receive almost over 2000 applicants, you were almost sure that you didn't get it. You were a bit upset at first, it was definitely your dream to get in but Chris called you, gave you a pep talk about how they didn't know what they were missing and it made you feel a lot better.

However, when you were lazing around on call with Chris, animatedly talking about the plans you guys had when he came back for your birthday, a 'ping' was heard from your laptop. You lazily walked over to it, clicking as you hummed, listening to Chris talk about how you guys should go get frozen yogurt when he was back. You giggled and was about to agree until your eyes landed on the new email that just came in titled 'Congratulations' which was from the magazine company in-charge of Gourmet Traveler.

Your eyes widened as you open the email, screening through the email before letting out a squeal, startling your brother who dropped the phone on his face with a 'thud'. You heard him let out a muffled curse as he was about to start scolding you, but you immediately turned the camera around to the acceptance letter making his own eyes widen as you both started shouting together.

Which lead you to this moment.

"It's so fun!" You squealed out to your brother, squeezing his hand tighter. "They brought me along to interview one of the new home bakers the other day and let me put in some of the questions that I thought we should ask!" You say, recalling the look on your managers face when he had approved the ideas. "I also got to write my own mini-section for the article coming out this weekend!"

Your brothers eyes widen at that. "Red!" He shouts out, "That's amazing!" He nudges you with his shoulder. "I guess we know what we're doing this weekend!" His eyes sparkle, full of pride, as he pulls his hand away from yours, starting to count.

"We need one for each of us as a keepsake, we also need to buy one extra for us to keep in a frame." He rambles, listing it off on his fingers. "OH! I'm sure Dad, Mum, Hannah and Lucas would also like a copy! And the guys! They were so happy when you got the internship so that's," His eyes widen, "Fourteen copies!"

You laugh, choking slightly on your own saliva from laughing so hard as you shove your brother.

"You're such a dumbass!"

Chris lets out an exasperated gasp. "How can you say that?!" He shoves you back, "Is it wrong for me to be proud of my baby sister?"

You roll your eyes, the smile never leaving your face as he grabs your hand again with a sincere smile on his face.

"Seriously though," He starts, looking at you, his eyes shining with pride, "I'm really proud of you Red."

Your heart swells, squeezing your joint hands before the lights turn off making you jump with a small yelp. You turn towards the kitchen to see your parents bring out a cake with the candles already lit, slowly singing happy birthday. A smile made its way onto your way as you glanced at the clock.

23:58pm

You took a deep breath as your parents put the cake in front of you, your brother's hand anchoring you as he gave it yet another squeeze before letting go for you to have your moment. Your heart thundered in your chest as you looked at the beautiful homemade red velvet cake in front of you that makes a smile appear on your face.

“Make a wish darling!” Your mum exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts as she clapped her hands together. 

You glanced at Chris who had a reassuring smile on his face before glancing back at the cake and closing your eyes, briefly making a wish before you opened them and blew out the candle right as your house was filled with a ding.

Your parents looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as you shifted nervously under their intense gazes.

“Do you feel anything Red?” Your dad asked, shifting excitedly on his feet. You nervously checked the underside of your arms before moving to your legs and shaking your head.

“I don’t–”

As soon as you said that, your face started burning up as a sharp burning numbing sensation hit your tongue making you gasp out. You immediately shot out of your seat as the sensation took over your tongue, making tears start to well up in your eyes. Chris was out of his seat, eyeing you, his face filled with shock.

“Red?! Are you alright?”

You wanted to scream at him, saying that of course you weren’t alright but sarcasm was definitely not the right approach while you were midway dying from the burning sensation.

“Water!” You managed to choke out, urgently gesturing to the water jar sitting on the family table. Chris immediately grabbed a glass, pouring like his life dependent on it, turning around to pass it to you. You grabbed it out of his hand and inhaled the water, feeling the burning sensation start to subside with each gulp you took.

Chris had given you a few more glasses before the spice fully subsided as you collapsed back on the couch, your eyes slightly rimmed with tears and slightly red. You watched your parents nervously glance at each other as Chris passed you a tissue paper to wipe the stray tears from your eyes.

Your tongue felt numb from the spice that had overtaken all your senses as a sourish aftertaste soon followed making you smack your lips as your face scrunched up slightly in disgust of the aftertaste. Swirling more water in your mouth in hopes to get rid of the taste, you turned to your parents.

“What was that?” you croaked out to them as they were shifting slightly uncomfortably from where they’re standing.

Your mum cleared her throat. “Well, sweetheart,” she started, as you watched her brain slowly piece the words together, “it seems like you have a taste soul mark.”

You froze, your hand stopping from dabbing at your eyes, looking between your parents for confirmation as to whether either of them were joking. When all you were met with was seriousness, you felt a heavy sigh flow up from your throat as you frowned.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me–”

“LANGUAGE!”

THE RED OF RED VELVET OF 2016

Jun felt himself collapse on the floor as soon as the video stopped recording. Catching his breath, he jumped slightly, hearing a soft 'thud' beside him before chuckling to himself at the view of his starfished team leader.

Minghao walked over to the two and sits down opposite Jun, an unamused expression on his face as he shakes his head at Soonyoung's antics.

"One of these days," Minghao muttered out, "You're going to hurt yourself really bad by collapsing like that." Soonyoung, who was still starfished on the floor, lets out a grunt in acknowledgment at Minghao's words but makes no further comment.

Chan who was the only one left standing after the intense practice, ran a hand through his hair as he kept slowly rehearsing the moves, slowly correcting himself, little by little. Jun watched in adoration, as their maknae continued to nail the choreography with ease.

Being in the performance unit was definitely something he was meant for but it didn't make the extra dance practices or intense choreography easier to get the hang off. Sometimes he was envious of the other two units, the hiphop unit just needed to look like they were having fun on stage and the vocal unit just needed to look ethereal. Them, on the other hand, needed their choreography to look flawless which meant extra practices and extra dances to remember.

Chan continued to hum the beat of 'Highlight' before walking over to his three hyungs, plopping down in between Jun and Minghao. "I think we're almost ready for the music video recording." Chan chirped up making Jun smile, despite still catching his breath. He was always envious at how much energy their maknae had, even after all those extra steps, Chan looked like he wasn't even panting.

Soonyoung sat up slowly. "Yeah and then tomorrow we need to figure out how to do the 13 member version for the concerts."

Minghao lets out a low groan. "You couldn't wait to drop that news tomorrow or something?" Minghao chastises lightly. "Couldn't just let us have the peace for the night?"

Soonyoung clicks his tongue. "As performance leader," he gives Minghao a cheeky grin, "I cannot."

Minghao rolls his eyes at the older boys antics. "Can't believe you're older than me." He muttered. Soonyoung lets out a scoff, about to retort when Minghao notices Soonyoung's eyes sparkle a little before changing, the dark brown slowly turning to a maroon red.

"Your eyes changed colour again." Minghao nonchalantly points out, gesturing towards his eyes making Soonyoung's eyes widen, any remarks dying, as he whips out his phone to document the change.

"Are you any closer to figuring out what it means?" Chan asked Soonyoung, who was still typing ferociously onto his phone. Soonyoung absentmindedly shook his head.

"No," He muttered out, still engrossed as he scrolled through his notes. "It's driving me insane! Like I can't believe I have a soulmate and I can't even communicate with them like Minghao can, all I have is the darned colour changes. Its almost as if the universe just doesn't want me to find—"

Minghao slaps the back of Soonyoung's head before he has the chance to continue making the older boy yelp in pain. Soonyoung shoots glares at Minghao, "What the hell was that for—"

Minghao raises a finger, silencing the boy before gesturing to Jun who was sitting there, quietly with his legs crossed. Soonyoung's eyes widen in understanding, gnawing on his bottom lip. "Sorry Jun." he mutters out making Jun glance up and shake his head slowly, a weak smile on his face.

"It's alright." Jun said softly, shrugging a little, "I'm used to it."

Even after two years, Jun was still the only one unsure if he had a soulmate or not, everyone else had gotten something on their 18th birthday except Chan whose birthday hasn't passed yet and was just a few months away. With every new soul mark that the group celebrated, Jun's hopes dimmed more and more.

After being told to not give up two years ago, Jun had done everything in his power to figure out what soul mark he had. He went onto his ipad in between practice sessions, just to read up on published articles of late blooming soul marks. He picked up some books in the library about the different types of soul marks that have been documented so far, each more unique than the last. Hell, he even tried to force the soul mark to happen by pinching himself after seeing Seungcheol's soul mark or even doodling on himself after seeing Seungkwan's but drew blanks everytime.

Maybe he was really unlucky and he really was going to be the only one without a soulmate.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the three younger boys share a glance, a silent conversation between them before shooting to their feet, shocking him.

"I think we're done with practice today." Soonyoung states, stretching a little before holding out a hand for Jun to grab. Jun stares at the hand, side glancing to the two other younger boys before looking at Soonyoung, his eyebrows furrowing. "Don't we have another hour of practice today?"

It was true, the staff had booked the the practice room for eight hours today and left them around two hours ago, trusting that they would practice till the time was up. Soonyoung was normally the one in charge of the timings, being the performance leader and never let the group end earlier for any circumstance even with Chan's constant whines of wanting to end.

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. "Well," he clicked his tongue, "I was being nice and offering but if you're that concerned," his eyes twinkled with a mischievous sparkle, "You can stay and practice by yourself."

Soonyoung starts to slowly pull his hand back, making Jun's eyes widen, grabbing onto it and pulling himself up. "No thanks." Jun chirped out making Soonyoung roll his eyes, a small smirk making it's way onto his face.

"C'mon." Soonyoung said, putting an arm around Jun's shoulder before glancing at his other two members, a smile on his face. "Let's go to get some food."

The four of them walked out of the practice room, up the stairs and onto the street which was buzzing with ambient noises. They talked about everything under the sun, random little tidbits and inside jokes filled the moments until they stopped at a familiar neon signage.

Jun blinked, not even realizing they had ended up outside his favourite Chinese restaurant. His eyebrows furrow before looking towards the other three boys, one eyebrow raising in question. "I thought you guys wanted to try the new Korean jeon place that was having that one for one deal?"

Soonyoung simply shrugged. "We changed our mind." Jun stared at him in disbelief, clearly not believing his answer but was pushed through the doors of the restaurant by the tiger boy before he could press even further.

"Good evening— Oh! It's you four!" The owner of the restaurant greets them, with a warm smile on her face as the four boys bowed, mirroring her expression. "Where are the other noisy nine that are normally with you all?" She teased, as the boys took their seats at one of the tables near the window of the store.

"Are the four of us not enough aunty?" Soonyoung whines out, making the old lady laugh as Minghao and Chan roll their eyes at their older hyung while Jun just shakes his head, a little embarrassed at their leader's antics. She pat Soonyoung's head. "Enough, enough," She says, soothing the boy. "It's just livelier when all thirteen of you are around."

Mrs Yang, as she told the boys to call her, was a lady in her sixties who had opened this restaurant after she moved from China twenty-odd years ago. Mrs Yang had opened the restaurant with her husband after they had been unable to find jobs in the corporate world and opted for their restaurants to be a 24/7 shop for those who just needed the comfort of a hot bowl of food.

The boys has stumbled across the restaurant before their debut, looking for food at the weird hours of the morning. She had welcomed them with open arms and for Jun, this place was like home far away from home.

Jun enjoyed the food so much that he found himself coming back to the restaurant whenever he felt down or just needed a hot meal that wasn't out of his budget. When Mrs Yang had learned about their debut, she purposely made a special menu for them that cost less than what other patrons paid.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan tried to argue with her about it but she was stubborn to say the least as she threatened them with the idea of lowering the prices for the thirteen of them even more.

She rounded the table to Jun and Minghao's side. "How are my two favourite boys?" She asked, in their native tongue making the two look at each other, a knowing smile on their faces.

"We're good." Minghao replied in Chinese before gesturing towards Jun, "Jun here really wanted to eat your food today."

Mrs Yang looks right at Jun, meeting his gaze before analyzing him.

"Thinking about her?"

Jun gave her a weak smile before looking back at the menu, analyzing it as if he didn't already know what he wanted. The night of his eighteenth Birthday, Jun sneaked out of the shared dormitories, needing to clear his head from the day. Having had practice the whole day, Jun didn't really have time to dwell on the fact of his soulmate and threw himself into the practice, making sure his moves were perfect and didn't really rest the whole day.

The other boys were worried, for sure. He saw the small glances that they gave each other when he was the first back on his feet after the breaks, they saw how he sweat a little harder than the rest of them and how he was unusually quiet, not a single mischievous comment coming out from his mouth.

Minghao and Seungkwan didn't leave his side for majority of the day and when Minghao had appeared in their shared room in his sleepwear with Chan no where to be seen, he knew that the members had a small meeting about him.

That's how he found himself back at the restaurant, drinking a hearty bowl of beef noodle soup, sitting opposite Mrs Yang. The restaurant was always quiet in the dead of the night. Mr Yang working hard to prepare the next set of ingredients needed for the wave of 5am customers who typically worked the night shift while Mrs Yang minced chili for their special chili oil, cut spring onions for garnish or plucked the heads off of bean sprouts.

Tonight she was doing the latter, slowly making her way through mountain in the left while she disposed the headless ones on her right, the heads throwing them into the plastic bag beside her.

She hummed along to an old Chinese song that flowed through the speakers of the restaurant that Jun recognized. It was one of his grandmother's favourite songs that used to play in the house when he was younger. It was at times like this that he missed his home in China and the food only amplified it more. He swallowed his emotions as he downed the last bit of his noodles, placing the bowl on the table with a soft 'thud' alerting Mrs Yang.

She gave him an easy smile, peering into the bowl, "Wahh," She said, the smile on her face growing bigger, "I guess we don't need to run the bowl through the dishwasher with how clean your bowl is."

Jun let out a weak laugh at the joke, sparing her a glance before going back to stare outside the window as he watched one or two cars whizz by.

Mrs Yang's eyes soften watching the forlorn boy who looked like he was close to breaking. She looked towards the kitchen where Mr Yang was standing, glancing between the two of them with a curious look twinkling in his eyes before gesturing towards her making her nod.

Jun was brought out of his thoughts when Mr Yang placed a small serving of a dessert that Jun wasn't expecting to see was placed in-front of him. His eyes widened, before looking between the older couple, his jaw dropping, "Nian Gao?" Jun sputtered out, making the older couple's eyes twinkle with delight.

"Happy birthday my dear boy." Mrs Yang said softly as Mr Yang placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Didn't think we would forget your birthday did you?" Mr Yang asked, his eyebrow raising, "We're old but not that old." Jun immediately shook his head, panicking slightly making Mr Yang let out a hearty laugh as Mrs Yang tsked at her husband, hitting his hand lightly.

"Don't disturb the poor boy like this on his birthday." She chastised her husband but there was no malice in her tone making Mr Yang laugh harder. Jun stared at the couple, longing in his veins, smiling a little sadly at the sight before looking down at the sticky cake in front of him.

The couple shared another glance at Jun's silence before Mrs Yang reached over the table and grabbed his hand that was resting there. "Want to talk about it?" She asked softly.

Jun swallowed. "I don't think I have a soulmate." He lowly admitted, his heart clenching slightly. The older couple were quiet for a beat at the confession before Mrs Yang's eyes hardened slightly on the boy. "That's nonsense."

Jun blinked at her stern words, "Everyone has a soulmate boy." She said, sternly locking eyes with Jun, "The minute you stop believing in that is when your soul doesn't long for them anymore or it feels complete without them next to you."

She raised an eyebrow at the young boy, "Do you truly feel like that?"

The question knocks the wind out of Jun's lung as he finds himself staring at her, his mouth open and closing like a fish before he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He really thought about it, her words striking him hard.

"I don't," He manages to answer making Mrs Yang nod her head. "Then she's still out there, longing for you as well."

It's crazy how those few simple words made Jun's doubts all disappear but she was right. If he didn't have a soulmate, he wouldn't feel this upset about not having something he didn't have in the first place. He wouldn't feel like something is missing from his life.

Mrs Yang gave Jun's hand a small squeeze. "Blow your candle already my dear boy." She said, pulling her hand back, "Make a good wish."

Jun smiled at the older couple who stared at him, their eyes filled with adoration and pride before he made a wish. He wished upon every single star in the sky that he would find her.

That's how they ended up here, the Yangs' had been helping Jun out by giving him hope and also checking with all their soulmate doctors that they knew. They always had something new to give Jun but with the search getting harder and harder each day, they were coming up short during his last recent visits.

"I always am." He answered, a reply to Mrs Yang's question, "I don't think she ever leaves my mind."

Mrs Yang gives the boy a sympathetic smile, reaching down and giving his hand a squeeze, "Good, as long as you don't give up on her." She says, her words a little fierce before turning to the younger Chinese boy.

"And you?" Mrs Yang asked. "Has she communicated with you?"

Minghao gave her a small smile. "We're trying," He mutters back softly, tugging at his sleeves to show the dark words of his soulmates thoughts on his arm, "Hard with the time difference and the language barrier but Shua hyung and Vernon have been helping me."

Mrs Yang gives the boy a toothy smile at that. "Good boys." She says, her smile widening at the thought of Joshua and Vernon. "I'll pack some extra food later for you to bring to them." The two boys give her an appreciative smile and thank her in Chinese before Mrs Yang clapped her hands.

"Right!" She said in Korean, getting the rest of the boys attentions, "I got a treat for you boys tonight." She gave them a wink with a promise to be right back before disappearing behind into the kitchen where she talked in fast Cantonese with her husband.

The four boys glance at each other before laughing to themselves as the couple loudly talked to each other. Not even twenty minutes later, the table was filled with various different dishes that the older couple whipped up making the four boys salivate.

"Dig in!" Mrs Yang said, clapping her hands as the boys eagerly began to dig in. "Woah!" Soonyoung gasped out after taking a spoonful of soup, "This is so good." Mrs Yang nods, her smile filled with pride, "It's Mala Tang," She said proudly, "Mr Yang and I thought it would be good for us to add it to the menu since Minghao and Jun mentioned liking it."

Jun took a sip of the soup and let out a sigh of contentment. "Really tastes like home Mrs Yang."

"I'm glad." She says, giving him a huge smile and patting his head gently.

They share stories with Mrs Yang about their recent practice and their upcoming concerts, Soonyoung sometimes getting out of his seat to dance the dance for her making Minghao shake his head at his antics as Jun and Chan laughed at their leader.

She clapped her hands as Soonyoung finished his one man show of 'Highlight'. "Bravo!" She cheered as Soonyoung took an exaggerated bow making Chan laugh as Minghao sighed and Jun smiled in between bites.

He quietly listened to Soonyoung animatedly tell Mrs Yang about his ideas for the thirteen member version of the song, placing more chili oil in his mala tang spoon as the clock struck 10pm. He took a sip of the soup, loving the spice and numbness on his tongue before it totally dulled in record speed, replaced by the strong taste of water.

Jun jumped in surprise, confusion flooding his features as he stared at the spoon as if it had offended him, which it did. "What in the world?" Jun wondered aloud before placing more chili oil into the soup before taking another spoonful of the soup and put it into his mouth.

Minghao who heard his murmurs, glanced at him, his eyebrow raised. Jun felt the numbness and the spice hit his tongue again before it was once again doused with taste of water.

"Not spicy enough for you?" Minghao asks teasingly as Jun frowned at the bowl getting the attention of the other three people at the table.

"No," Jun started, confusion still etched into his features, "I keep tasting water for some reason after drinking the soup."

Minghao's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?" He asked. Jun shrugged, "The mala taste of numbness and spice is there for like a second but then it gets overwhelmed by a really strong water taste." Jun said, taking another sip of the soup. He scrunches his nose in confusion as he tasted more water, the more he clicked his tongue.

Soonyoung at the other end of the table made a face before his eyes widened in realization as he turned to Mrs Yang who smiled as the gears turned in her head at Jun's words.

"Look's like your soulmate has finally found you." Mrs Yang said, making Jun tilt his head in confusion before it hit him. Chan and Minghao let out gasps as it hit them as well. Jun felt his heart thunder in his ribcage as his eyes widened.

Soonyoung rushed out of his seat, rounded the table and hugged the boy, squeezing him tightly as Minghao reached over to grab Jun's hand, "I told you so." Minghao said, in their native tongue, squeezing the boys hand.

Jun felt tears swarm his vision as his taste buds came to life, tasting the sweet taste of cream cheese frosting and chocolate cake on his tongue.

Red Velvet Cake.

He had finally found you.

10 YEARS LATER

"Fuck." You curse under your breath, running through the city in your heels was surely not the way you wanted to start your morning. It wasn't like you meant to sleep through all three of your alarms, you had stayed up to the early hours of the morning, working on your newest article for the magazine.

After you had graduated from high school, your old manager during your internship had called and offered you a position with the magazine after loving your work so much. Hence, you were known as the culinary and food expert at the Gourmet Magazine.

"Hey Mina," You greet as you brisk walked through the company glass doors. Mina, the receptionist looks up from her computer before giving you a bright smile, greeting you with your name as you gave her your card to scan you in.

"Long night?" She asks, glancing at the time on her computer making you give her a weak smile as you shrug, "You know how it is when we're wrapping up articles." You answered tiredly, making her nod her head sympathetically.

Mina had been the receptionist at the company since you started working full-time here. She was always around and she somehow always had the brightest smile on her face. She was also one of your closer friends in the company, always having an extra coffee for you whenever you were working late and always brought you donuts or other forms or sweet treats. She was quite literally your life saver.

"I hope the article goes well," She says softly, passing you back your card as you give her a warm smile, thanking her before she open the gantries for you. Your heels click on the marble floor as you press the button for the elevator, taking it up to the fifth floor.

You briskly walked in, dumping your stuff on top of the table of your cubicle before sinking into your chair, letting out a sigh of relief as you check the clock. Five minutes to spare, you roll your shoulders, finally catching your breath before a head peaked over your cubicle divider.

"There you are," Nari teased making you roll your eyes, a smile on your face as you came face to face with your cubicle sharer. "Was wondering if you were going to make it for the special meeting today or not."

You huff out a scoff, "And risk getting my ass handed to me by Minho?" You mutter back, shaking your head, "He would kill me if I missed the meeting."

Nari rolled her eyes at that, "As if." She scoffed, "You're literally his favourite journalist in the field. I think he would rather choke on his own guts before chewing yours out." You scrunched your nose at the image, "Gross." You said making Nari laugh.

Nari had joined the same time as you as a fellow intern for the food magazine. The two of you had solid portfolios and because management couldn't choose, they decided to offer both of you the spots. You and Nari became friends pretty quickly even though she was a year older than you were and the two of you chatted about everything under the sun. After the internship was over and the two of you finished high school, you were both on boarded together and have been working as cubicle besties since then.

Your phone buzzed making you glance at it before fishing through your bag for your laptop and the hard copy of your article and column for the week. "C'mon, you menace." You called to Nari, "Let's go see what Park wants before he hands us something bad for being late."

Nari appears beside you in record speed with her own laptop and hard copies in her hand, "He loves us too much to actually do that." She says, a mischievous grin on her face making you roll your eyes. "Well, let's not actually give him a reason then."

The two of you continue to chat as you made your way into the meeting room, where your magazine manager, Park Minho already stood. Beside him, sat his personal assistant, Lina who had a frown on her face as she was typing up a storm on her laptop in front of her, her fingers flying across the keyboard at record speed.

As you and Nari pushed open the glass door, Minho looked up before grinning at the sight of you two, "There are my two favourite food journalists!" He announced, doing an exaggerated arm opening movement making both you and Nari roll your eyes at his antics.

"Don't let Terry hear you say that," Nari teased, as she took a seat at his other side. You flashed Lina a grin who flashes you one back, tiredness etched into it before she went back to typing on her computer.

"Well, if Terry's articles and food columns actually hit 1500 views over the weekend," Minho began, eyeing the two of you with an easy grin on his face, "He shall get that spot then."

Your eyes widened as you looked at Nari who had a similar look on her face before looking back at your manager, "We hit 1.5k views?" You asked in disbelief making Minho nod as he flashed you both grins of pride, "Yep! Just over the weekend!"

You and Nari high-five each other, the smiles on your faces not dimming, "Was this what this meeting is for?" Nari asked, her eyes still sparkling making Minho shake his head, "Firstly," He pointed towards the papers on yours and Nari's computers, "I need to collect your columns and articles for this week."

The two of you share a look before passing them to him, he flipped through them briefly before passing them to Lina who tucks them into her file beside her. "Secondly," He starts before gesturing towards the projector screen, "The higher ups have been super impressed with the work that you both have been putting in and they recently wanted to offer you an assignment that is specially catered to the two of you."

You and Nari glanced at each other before looking back at the screen as Minho changed it to the next slide. Upon reading the words etched onto the slide, you felt your blood run cold.

"Food for the Soul: A Soulmate Assignment?" Nari asked, her tone ecstatic as you just stared at it with your mouth open. Minho nodded his head eagerly, seeming not to notice both your expressions as he continued, "Since both of you have a soul mark related to food cravings or taste, the higher ups thought that they wanted to create a series where you look for your soulmates through the foods and see if you can find them."

He flips to the next slide, "Of course, the trip is also fully-paid, you just need to inform Lina and I of the location you think your soulmate is in and we will get you the accommodations as well as give you money for you to spend to write the series."

Minho finally turns to you and Nari who have different expressions etched onto your faces as you just stared blankly at the projection screens, "Of course, we have to work out a timeline, what your series will actually entail but this is the basics of the assignment." Minho finishes, with a satisfied grin on his face as he takes a seat back into the rolling chair of the meeting room.

"Any questions?" He asks making Nari shake her head with a huge smile on her face before he turned to look at you who still stared at the board, a million thoughts running through your head. You felt faint.

After the incident of your eighteenth birthday, you held a huge dislike for your soulmate and his taste buds. You were aware that you and your soulmate definitely didn't live in the same country with the amount of times you would wake up with the taste of Americano on your taste buds before you even had your first cup of coffee and the amount of times you would eat your late dinner with the taste of toothpaste on your tongue.

At the start of your journalism journey, it was difficult to say the least. For every single assignment, you had to work around the times when your soul mate was having his meals so as to not have it clash with the food that you were writing your reviews for.

You had learned that the hard way when you were tasting the cakes of the newest rising bakery in town, only to almost spit out the delicious creamy cakes when you taste the sour and spicy taste of some fish dish that your soul mate was having. Safe to say, you worked your absolute hardest to give the bakery the best review it could ever get and business was still booming to this day.

You had tried to make a schedule for when your soul mate eats his meals and he was consistent for a while but within a month or so, that schedule will change sporadically throughout the month leaving you to just shred the schedule and go "fuck it", to try to find other workarounds. Which of course, there weren't.

This lead to your certain distaste for him and his taste buds as he never really had anything sweet and opted for every single spicy or sour food he could find his hands on. However, as much as you didn't like him or the idea of him, he was… sweet sometimes.

He must've gotten a schedule down for you, because unlike his outrageously sporadic schedule, you kept your meal times to a certain range in the day and it only strayed sometimes when you were in the middle of assignments or on work trips.

Because for the week during your periods, he ate milder stuff and kept to a proper schedule like it was clockwork. More sweet stuff than spicy or sour and sometimes he would sneak a chocolate during the middle of your day which made you smile as you taste the creaminess on your tongue.

You would be nice as well and eat something spicy during the week after, during one of your meals as a quiet 'thank you' to which he always replied with either another sweet chocolate or something sweeter. Still, that didn't mean you were okay with having a soul mate, he was normally a blip in your imagination until your tongue tastes something unfamiliar which makes you frown and curse him out even more.

Now you were expected to make a series to force yourself to find him? The biggest assignment of your career where you get to travel for 3 to 4 months and it was all to find someone that you didn't want in the first place.

You gnawed on your bottom lip before feeling Nari nudge you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You eyed her before realizing that all three of the people in the room were staring at you. You cleared your throat before straightening up, flashing Minho a weak smile.

"Sorry, spaced out there for a moment." you say, looking between him and Lina, "What did I miss?"

Minho gives you a curious look before clearing his throat as he gestures back to the presentation, "Well, I was just saying that you and Nari have a week, you can brainstorm with each other or separately and decide what your game plan is and where you think your soulmate is."

He peers at his watch before tapping it with his fingers, "Right, Lina and I need to run for a meeting with the Chief." He said, standing before pushing his chair and shooting the two of you a bright white smile, buttoning his suit jacket. "If you two have any questions, just shoot them into my inbox!" He says cheerily as Lina stood by his side, her signature frown still on her face as she gripped her laptop and files like they were her lifeline, which they probably were.

With that, he gives the two of you a wave before stepping out of the room. Nari turns to you as soon, her excitement radiating off of her. "I can't believe this!" She all but squeals as she grips your hands in hers, her eyes twinkling.

"A paid assignment to go find our soulmate!" She said, her tone dreamy as her eyes glazed over a little, "It's almost like a dream come through!"

You manage to give her a weak smile. "Yeah." You mutter out, your eyes moving downwards to stare at the scratch marks on the wooden table as the faint taste of kimchi fills your tastebuds.

"A dream come true, alright…"

You stare at blinking cursor on your screen, the blank document reflecting the opposite of every single thought in your brain before you groan out in frustration. You push your laptop off of your lap and onto your bed as you sink further into the pillows.

It had been almost a week since you had your meeting with Minho and you were nowhere close to drafting up that working plan for him about finding your soulmate. You felt like a zombie the past few days, sure you were present in the meetings, there for your discussion sessions with Nari but it felt as if you were on autopilot for all of them.

You half-heatedly listened to Nari as she explained to you her idea. Nari, like you, had a food related soul mark but for her, it was related to what her soul mate was craving at different times. They didn't taste each others food, but whatever her soul mate was craving, Nari found herself craving the same thing. It didn't matter who craved it first, the two of them ended up having the same meals anyway.

If you had gotten that soulmark instead, you felt that it wouldn't make a difference because he would've craved an immense amount of spicy and sour food and you weren't sure that your tastebuds could handle more than one meal of spice or sour foods a day. It just wasn't in your system to have it.

As she animatedly told you her plan, how she thought that her soulmate was situated in Italy, he always had a certain craving for different Italian foods such as pizzas and pastas and how he seemed to also crave a certain Italian wine.

You envied her a little bit, she had a plan and she wanted to meet the man that was part of her soul. You on the other hand, felt a pit in your stomach whenever you felt someone ask you about your soulmate.

You had been on a few dates here and there, with people who hadn't found their soulmate yet either but nothing ever truly stuck. You were committed to your work and you definitely didn't stand in the other persons way when the date eventually went eastward when they found their respective one.

"Don't worry," They used to assure you as they paid for your drink. "I'm sure he's out there looking for you as well."

You weren't sure about that. As much as you haven't been trying to find your mysterious man, he also wasn't making it easy to pinpoint where he was on the map. Your parents had given you a journal for your birthday, something cheesy with stars on it and titled it 'Your Soulmate Journal' for you to document everything related to your soulmate for you to find them. They had also given one to your brother for him to document the certain feelings he felt when he touched the mark or whether it glowed brighter and in which direction.

You used it to document the food he ate instead. Sometimes if you wanted to wing the assignments, you used the food journal of his tastes to get ahead, to get the variety that you normally wouldn't eat yourself. It worked for a while but at the end of the day, you felt guilty for your soulmate. You didn't want anything to do with him but you were using him to get ahead, so you stopped and just documented what he ate, trying to find a pattern, just to satisfy your parents every time you saw them for Sunday dinners, just to say you were trying.

You glance at the journal on your desk and sighed, getting up to take it before flipping through it.

18/9/2017 Loser boy ate the spicy numbing food again. Been talking to Minho and Nari about what the foods were to try and get more info. Admittedly, maybe he has taken the hint from the amount of water I keep dousing my tongue in after he eats the food, but he's been getting a milder one. Either that or I'm getting better at eating his god-awful spicy food.

25/12/2018 Found out what the hell that spicy food is. Nari came into work and brought an extra portion of lunch for me today. It smelled good but as soon as I tasted it, it felt like my tastebuds were tasting him. She told me its something called Mala tang, something she had discovered in the city and it was to die for. I agree with her on that considering I nearly died from it during my birthday but I didn't mention that to her. I thanked her as my stomach did flip flops as I ate quietly. The food wasn't bad but considering my low spice tolerance, I definitely can't eat this everyday. My question to my loser boy, why the hell do you?

You grimace as you recalled the last memory before flipping a few more pages.

10/6/2019 Is today his birthday? It could be a coincidence but he had cake just now. Not that he hasn't had cake before. But it's always on this specific day. I flipped through the last three years of entries and I think it is. He had three different kinds today… Chocolate, Vanilla and Strawberry, all filled with cream. It felt like he ate a lot more sweet stuff today than normal. Maybe he was trying to communicate with me?

18/10/2021 I fucking hate him. I thought I had his schedule down, but I somehow woke up at 4am in the goddamn morning, because he decided to eat Mala Tang again. He put extra spice this time though. Is he doing it on purpose? I would normally only taste mint now but I'm tasting so much food, its annoying. I've tasted Mala Tang, some kind of sweet and sour pork and some kind of black pepper beef. I fucking hate him. I hate that he made me hungry at 4am in the morning.

29/6/2022 God, hes been eating at weird timings again. The last time it was like this, it lasted for a few months where I'd wake up with different food tastes in my mouth. What does he work as? A food taster? Some moonlighter? Why does his food schedule go haywire every few months? The only conclusion I can come up with is that he travels a lot. There's no other explanation. Unless he hates me which I can't blame him because I hate his tastebuds.

You flipped through it more until you came to the most recent one which was a tally.

Tallied results: Korean food - 6890 times Chinese food - 3568 times

You internally groan, just looking at the first two. You weren't stupid. He was definitely in Korea from the amount of times he had eaten Korean food over the last few years that you had documented. But he seemed to take a liking to Chinese food, considering that he eats Mala at least twice a week from your count.

You glance towards the framed polaroid on your desk and frown a little more. The picture of you and your older brother Chris, stares back at you making you sigh. You had an inkling for years that your soulmate was in Korea, which was why you never really traveled there with a fear of running into him on the street, breaking this little bubble that you were keen to keep.

You knew that Chris was disappointed. Your parents traveled there to visit him as least once every quarter with your siblings but you never went. It started with small excuses at first, like you can't take leave from work, you needed to finish the article, you were traveling for a work trip, et cetera.

Chris also hummed in understanding but you could see the look in his eyes that he knew you were lying to him and that you were keeping something from him. He just didn't press you enough to figure out what you were hiding from him.

You stared at the polaroid for a beat longer before sighing and pulling out your phone. Checking the time and doing the mental math, you went into facetime and hovered over the call button on his contact. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth before deciding 'fuck it' and hitting the button.

His ringtone rang once. Twice. Thrice.

As you started to second guess yourself and hovered over the disconnect button, the ringing stopped and changed to 'connecting'.

Your eyes widened but before you could calm your nerves, Chris appeared on your screen with makeup on with a concerned expression on his face.

"Hi-" You managed to say before Chris interrupted you.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, urgently making you stop and frown, "What—"

"Is something the matter?" He asked again, before rattling even more. "Did something happen with mum and dad? Wait- no then you would've called an ambulance first. Is it Hannah? Or Lucas?"

"Chris—"

His eyes widened, "Oh my god! Did you just get fired?? Is that why you look so worried?? Do you need money??"

"Chris." You called, getting a little more frustrated but he payed you no mind as he continues on rambling.

"Well, we didn't plan for this but we can go to Plan Contingency B! Where you move to Korea with me and then we can figure out the rest of the stuff. Let me call my manager and then we can have you situated her—"

"Christopher Chahn Bahng!" You exclaimed, making him pause at the mention of his full government name, looking at you as his face pales even more.

"Oh god! Is it worst than that?" You wanted to slam your head into the wall at your brothers expression.

Before he could launch into another spiral of rants, you spit out, "Chris, I need to talk to you about my soulmate."

At that, he freezes, his jaw dropping open.

You never talk about your soulmate willingly since your eighteenth birthday. Your parents or siblings always had to pull it out of you whenever you met up with them for dinners or on calls. You never brought it up first, considering it to just be a small blip in your life, much to your parent's disdain.

You stayed silent, letting the initial shock sink in as well as letting his brain process.

"Chris?" You call out softly after counting to hundred in your head, "Can I continue?"

Chris closes his mouth, taking a swallow before nodding, "Er, yeah." He clears his throat as he sat up straighter, "Sorry, I wasn't expecting that."

"Neither did I when you started your full rant about contingency plans." You quipped back making a small flush appear on his cheeks, "When you call me in the middle of the night after my concert —which you normally never do, a brother can worry."

Your eyes widen at that, "Oh shit!" You mutter out. He shakes his head and holds up his free hand before you could even begin to apologize, "You can apologize by telling me what's got you awake at 1am in the morning when you have work tomorrow."

You took a deep breath before you told him about everything, the assignment, how you thought your soulmate was in Korea and how conflicted you were about everything. Chris just listened, never interrupting you as he shuffled around his hotel room, dressing down for the night after the concert. The only times he spoke was to ask a few questions here and there, just to clarify and piece the story together better.

"So," You breathe out, finally catching him up on everything, "What do you think?"

Chris was quiet for a moment, his makeup now fully removed as he sunk lower into his bed, "Is that why you haven't wanted to visit me the last few years?" He asks, softly. Your heart drops at the question before you give a small nod, "I knew the chances of me bumping into him were small but," You shook your head, "I just didn't know if I wanted to meet him yet." You hesitate a little before admitting, "Or if I was even ready to meet him."

Silence enveloped the room as the two of you digested everything that you had talked about before Chris sighs over the phone and runs a hand through his hair.

"I understand." He finally says, giving you a small smile and a shrug, "It was your anti-soulmate defense system talking," he says, a slight tease in his tone before it drops, "But this might be a good thing you know?" He says gently, "You were going to have to face him eventually and meeting him might give you a better piece of mind Red. You need to give him a chance."

You nod, rubbing your eyes, "I know," you mutter out, "I just didn't think it was going to happen so soon."

Chris nodded, empathetically, "I know Red," he whispers out, "But running away from him isn't going to work forever. I think this might be the universes way of telling you to face your fears."

You heave out a sigh before rolling over onto your back, your hand reaching out to grab your pillow before cuddling it, "I didn't think that my biggest assignment of my career was going to revolve around him Channie." You softly admit making him frown as he stared at you through the phone.

"I'm sorry Red."

You shake your head as you feign a brave smile, "It's okay." Your voice wavering slightly as you try to reassure him (and yourself). "I need to finish typing up my game plan."

Chris visibly hesitates and opens his mouth to say something but rethinks it and just nods.

You bid him goodnight and was about to hang up when he calls out to you.

"Red?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

He chews his bottom lip, "Would you like to stay with me when you come?" Your eyebrows furrow at the suggestion, "Is that even allowed?" You ask making him shrug, "I probably need to talk to my manager about it but Jeong-in probably won't mind if you bunk with me plus…" He trails off, hesitating slightly making you raise an eyebrow, "Plus?"

"It'll be nice to live in the same house again, that's all." Chris softly says making your heart clench slightly at the tone of his voice making you relent, "Alright." You relent, giving him a small smile. "Check with your manager and we can plan from there."

Saying that the next few weeks felt like a fever dream would be the understatement of the century.

If you weren't at home, you were at work pulling different all-nighters to wrap up the remaining projects, interviews and articles you were assigned to write before this assignment. If you weren't at work, you were at your parents house having family dinner where they would ask you countless amount of questions about your proposal which you always answered halfheartedly or with an awkward edge in your tone.

If you weren't at your parents house, you were at home, writing and rewriting your soulmate assignment proposal as if it was the last thing you will ever work on— which it might be if Minho kept asking you to rearrange or add more things to give your assignment a little more pizzaz.

As if it wasn't bad enough, the icing on the cake was that your soulmate's eating schedule had changed for the umpteenth time, which caused you to have zero appetite to eat upon tasting whatever spicy or sour poison your soulmate had chosen to have right before you woke up.

You know you shouldn't be blaming your soulmate who was none the wiser about the situation that you found yourself in but you couldn't help it. Not when suddenly, your whole life just revolved around him.

Your work, your family dinners, hell, even your sleep schedule dependent on him. So, by some act of pettiness (and sleep deprivation), you decided to fight back with an ample amount of sweet things whenever the first drop of spice or sourness hit your tastebuds.

You retaliated with that for a few days until it seemed that he picked up that you were angry with him which he answered by eating cleaner food, food that didn't linger in your mouth which made your heart clench slightly, feeling guilty that you had taken your angst and frustration out on him.

So when Nari's jaw drops open upon seeing what you were eating during a normal Tuesday lunch, a week before you fly off, you sort of feel the urge to crawl into a hole and rethink your lunch option.

"Are you eating Mala?" Nari asks, her eyes fixated on the instant noodles you were about to shove into your mouth. You stare at her, your mouth agape, the food about to enter as you peer down at your lunch option before looking back up at her and shrug, using the chopsticks to put the food into your mouth.

"Wanted to see what the hype was about." You state as nonchalantly as you could even though you could feel your cheeks burn, as if you were caught doing something forbidden. "Plus, he was nice during hell week for me."

Nari stares at you as if you had grown a second head, "Did your period come early?" She finally asks, making you choke on your food as you stare at her, absolutely flabbergasted by her comment.

"No—" You choke out, taking a few sips of water to calm yourself down before continuing, "You can't ask me that in the middle of work! What the hell Nari?"

"Well!" Nari sputters out dropping her lunch on the table as she takes her seat opposite you, "I have the right to question if you're acting strange!"

You roll your eyes at her dramatics, picking up one of the ingredients with your chopsticks, "You're crazy." You mutter out, eating the ingredient making her narrow her eyes at you. Knowing that she heard you, you return it with a teasing smile making her scoff at your antics.

"Are you ready for next week?" Nari asks, opening up her lunch, a stir-friend special from the Chinese place down the road. You swallow your food before nodding as you take a sip of your water, "Yeah, just wrapping up the article on 'Milan's Bistro' and the special column on my take of 'Charles Boyle's Pizza Ratings' for the Writer's Takes, which should be published this Friday if Minho gives me the green light." You say making Nari chuckle slightly at your column for the 'Writer's Take'.

"Did you start rating some pizza places out of twelve then?" She asks making you give her a mischievous smile, "Of course," You exaggerate, "What kind of connoisseur would I be if I didn't use his famous metric system as a fellow food enthusiast?"

Nari laughs at your words making you laugh along with her before the two of you converse about her columns and articles she has left.

"Did Minho finally agree with your proposal?" She asks you towards the end of your meal. You hummed out a 'yes' making her let out a sigh of relief, "I thought he would never accept it." She states, recycling her takeout container as you let out a tense exhale.

"I didn't think he would either." You mutter out, turning to the water cooler to refill your bottle. "Can't blame him though, this proposal was definitely the worst one I've written by far for all the assignments that I've done."

Nari frowns at your words, "Don't say that." She sternly says making you shrug, unapologetic, "It's fine Nari, really." You assure her as you plaster on a small smile, locking eyes with her concerned gaze, "My heart just isn't into this assignment as much as it should be and he knows that, which is why he was pushing me to give it my all."

"Still," She argues, her frown deepening making you shake your head, "It's something to not want to find your soulmate but being forced to find them for the sake of your job." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry that you have to go through that."

You felt guilt sink in a little at her words.

You had shared your experience with Nari around your fourth brainstorm session when she was concerned about why your document was still semi-blank. You had hesitated to share with her but after taking a glance at her concerned face, you told her everything.

Still, after everything that had been going on, you realized that you weren't as against meeting your soulmate as you thought you would be. How he was thoughtful when he shouldn't be. How he always knows when you were heading to bed by eating a little sweet treat before you brushed your teeth to give you just that little burst of serotonin. How he always knew when you were having a hard day by the amount of coffee that you drank and would pop a mint before you did because he noticed that you did that everytime you had finished your coffee, not liking the lingering taste in your mouth.

It almost felt like he was apologizing for all the times he knew you were pissed off at him because of his irregular eating schedule. However, you were still a woman of your word and having to dedicate your life to someone who was written for you in the stars, just didn't sit right with you.

So you just gave Nari a shrug. "It's alright." You mutter out, grabbing your water bottle before walking with her out of the break room. "Who knows," You start, a joking tone in your words as you try to break the tension, "Maybe he's right and I will believe in soulmates after this."

As soon as Chris whips the door open for you, you collapse into his open arms, not caring whether it came off as clingy as you breath in your brothers comforting scent.

He jumped at first but slowly relaxed into your arms as you feel him let out a chuckle as he wraps his arms around you. "Long flight?" Chris asks lowly making you nod into his chest.

"Forgot how long it takes to get to Seoul from Brisbane."

He chuckles at that as you pull away, making him step aside to let you step into his shared apartment. You walk in and sigh, feeling the days weight lift off your shoulders as your brother carries your luggage in, before shutting the door close with a soft thud.

You take in your surroundings noticing how homely the apartment felt despite not having a lot of memorabilia around the living room area.

"Nice place." You call out as Chris made his way back into the shared area, right after dropping off your luggage in his room.

He shrugs, almost nonchalantly before he walks into the kitchen. "We try," He says simply as he whips the fridge open. "Want something to eat?" He asks, looking straight at you making you nod.

He pulls some stuff out of the fridge as you slide into a chair at their kitchen island.

"Where's Jeong-in?" You ask, noticing that his door was open and his lights were off.

"He's at the recording studio tonight." Chris says, ripping a packet of ramyeon open. "He wanted to get a bit of recording done for the new album."

You let out a hum of acknowledgment before you unlock your phone, answering a few messages from your parents as well as Nari and Minho who asked if you had landed. You continue to scroll, opting to answer a few work emails that were not as pressing, leaving the pressing ones for tomorrow instead.

"Checking your new article statistics?" Chris asks as he places a bowl of freshly made raymeon in-front of you making your stomach growl. Your mouth waters slightly as you nod, taking the chopsticks from him after placing your phone facedown on the counter.

"The article has 859 views concurrently and counting." You chirp happily, taking a bite of the noodles and humming contentedly. Chris watches you with slight amusement on his face as he leans against the counter. "Wouldn't have expected anything less from you Red." He says, his voice full of pride making you give him a sweet smile before continuing to scarf down your food.

The two of you indulge in small talk as you finish your food, him talking a little about his new album and giving you a few sneak peeks.

Him asking how the flight was, while you complain about the amount of non-direct flights from Brisbane to Seoul.

"It's a little insane." You say, placing your chopsticks on the rim of the bowl before pushing it to the side. "You would think that there would be more direct flights."

He chuckles, picking up your dish to rinse it off before placing it into the dishwasher. "Now you know how I feel." He teases lightly, wiping his hands on the cloth next to the sink. "You can't tease me anymore for how dead I look after every flight when I come visit now."

You roll your eyes at his words. "Fine fine." You relent, slipping out of the chair as you grimace slightly, feeling icky from the amount of traveling you had done. "I really need a shower."

Chris nods. "Your towel is on the blow up mattress in the room." He starts as he gestures to your room for the next few months. "After you shower, we can discuss about your plans for the week and how to get there."

You give him a quick hum in acknowledgement before skipping towards his room to wash the airport smell off of you. Twenty minutes later, you hum one of his songs under your breath before drying your hair as Chris scrolls through the places you had listed for your soulmate assignment.

You shut the hair dryer off before collapsing on his bed as he continues to analyze your itinerary. "So," You begin, stretching a little, "How's the itinerary?"

Chris nods, giving you a smile. "It's good but that's a lot of places to get through this week." He gives you a small look. "Are you sure you're going to be able to get through all that food tomorrow?"

You let out a sigh, trying to collapse further into the pillows. "I'm only allowed to be here for three to four months Chris." You shake your head. "I just want to narrow the places first so that I will have an easier time with the article."

"But this looks like a food suicide mission Red." Chris lets out, pointing towards the places that was listed on your spreadsheet. "You wrote that you have to get through nine restaurants tomorrow and it's definitely not cheap."

"This coming from the ever loving leader of Stray Kids, a premier fourth-generation Kpop phenomenon." You mutter out making your brother scoff as he pushes the laptop off of his lap. "I'm serious Red, don't you want to space it out a little more or remove some of the items on your list at least?"

You shake your head. "Again, I can't do that Chris." You say, feeling a little more frustrated by the second, "The timeline is already unbelievably short. Not to mention I need to write an article that means something to my soulmate. Which means I need to find the guy, and go, 'Hey, I don't quite want a soulmate but for the sake of my job, I need you to spend the day with me so that you can tell me about your favourite food and then we can go our separate ways.'" You rant as your brother watches you with an unreadable look on his face.

"How am I meant to do all that in four months if I take my time?"

Chris watches you for a beat, analyzing you as you go through your spiral before sighing and pulling you into his embrace. "Sorry." He mutters out as he wraps you slightly tighter in his arms. "Forgot how much pressure you're under to do this."

You let yourself breath a little, feeling his words hit home as you relax into his embrace. "It's okay." You finally let yourself say, slightly muffled due to his clothes, "I'll figure it out."

"You always do." Chris mutters out as you nod into his chest. "Wanna watch a movie?" He asks softly making you nod.

"Breakfast Club?" You ask, pulling your head away from his chest as he frowns.

"Again?" He groans out, as you give him a small frown in return. "What's wrong with the breakfast club?" You whine out as he shakes his head.

"I swear we've watched that movie at least once whenever we see each other." Chris quips back. "Are you not sick of the movie?"

"It's a classic."

"Deadpools a classic, but you don't see me asking to watch it whenever you bring up movie night."

You snort. "As if! I've seen you watch that at least twice whenever you're back home with us." You wave your hand a little animatedly, "Plus how is Deadpool a classic? It's a superhero movie."

"Superhero movies can be considered a classic."

"It's not old enough to be considered a classic you buffoon, although you could be from how old you are."

"How dare you?! I'm only a year older than you."

"A year closer to death you mean."

"I'll show you death."

THE BEEF NOODLES OF FATE - Week 1 out of 16

When Chris suggested that you should have a driver with you today, you had refused and told him that you wanted to explore Seoul independently and away from the spotlight which might be hard if you went in a JYP issued car.

The two times you had come with your family to see your brother's concerts, you realized how many of them knew when you would be arriving due to the cars that were sent to pick you up from the hotel. It gave you the shock of your life, seeing the amount of people waiting for you outside your hotel, wanting to get a glimspe of your brother.

Due to the fact that you were working on an assignment that caused you more migraines than any other ones, you knew that you needed a quiet day.

Now, however, you were regretting not taking up his offer.

You had forgotten to charge your phone when you had arrived home yesterday and left the apartment with low battery, only realizing after you had gotten onto the train which had been a hard walk already.

You tried to minimize your use of your phone as much as you could but by the 7th location, your phone had inevitably died.

Which leads you to where you are now.

You let out a small groan as you continue to walk down the street, looking for any signs or indicators that could get you out of your predicament. Chris mentioned that he was going to be working late at JYP and wouldn't be home till the early hours of the morning.

You had asked the lady at the restaurant for directions but unfortunately, due to your minimal sense of direction, you had gotten lost somewhere.

Judging from the clock at the 7th place you went to, you would guess that it was roughly around 10pm. Meaning that if Chris were to save you, he would only be able to in three to four hours depending on what time he gets home and realizes that you aren't there.

You hope that it was the former rather than the latter.

"At least it can't get worst than this." You mutter out to yourself before feeling something prick the edge of your skin making you look up to see that it is starting to drizzle. You let out a huff as you felt the rain pelt against your hoodie, dampening it. "Just my luck." You sarcastically mumble to yourself before you sprint down the street.

It starts to rain heavier as you try to look for a restaurant or shop that's open this late at night before you spot one in the distance. The neon sign of the restaurant acting like a beacon as you run towards it, feeling the rain soak you a little more.

A bell chimes as you enter the shop, a gust of warm air hitting you making you shiver slightly as the glass door shuts with a soft clang behind you.

You huff out a sigh as you take in your appearance, seeing the rain had drenched you from top to bottom. You were glad that you had decided to wear darker colours today before you left Chris and Jeong-In's dormitory. The smell of delicious Chinese food fills your nose as you look around the restaurant, your eyes widening at how cozy the interior looks despite it looking slightly run down.

"Oh hello!" A voice chirps out beside you making you turn to see an elderly Chinese lady with a warm smile on her face. You give her a sheepish smile as you watch her take in your appearance as a frown overtakes the smile on her face.

"Goodness!" She yells out, looking at you with wide eyes. "You're drenched dear."

You feel a small flush rise to your cheeks, opening your mouth to speak but are interrupted by her dragging you deeper into the restaurant. She makes you sit at one of the tables before disappearing behind the counter and speaking some fast Mandarin— or was it Cantonese, to the person in the kitchen before returning with a set of fresh clothes and a towel.

Your eyes widen as you stand up, sticking your arms up to try to stop her when she shoots you a stern look. "Don't argue with me on this." She says with a hard look making you shudder before taking the clothes from her with a soft 'thank you'.

She waves her hand as if it wasn't a big deal before pointing towards the kitchen doors. "There's a small bathroom just through there and up the stairs." She says, her warm smile back on her face. "If you get lost, just call for Mr Yang."

You give her a curt nod before awkwardly walking towards the kitchen through the hanging curtain. You see an older man, sitting on the stool there who shoots you a warm smile and points you towards the way you need to go making you bow before sprinting towards the tiny bathroom.

You change and dry your hair in a couple of minutes, looking at the fresh set of clothes which appear to be a K-pop groups merch, noticing the logo as you inspected it before putting it on. They must be real big fans of Seventeen to be having a hoodie and sweatpants of the group.

You walk out of the kitchen to see Mrs Yang already seated at the table you were at, a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of her. She notices you and gives you a warm smile. "Sit." She simply says. "A hot bowl of soup would be good for you, to make sure that you don't fall sick."

You feel your cheeks heat up slightly in embarrassment as you awkwardly take the seat opposite her as she takes the clothes from your hands. "I'll put these in the dryer for you so that you can rewear them before you leave dear." She says and was off behind the kitchen curtain before you could even protest.

You stare at the delicious food before tentatively digging in. Through your experience with your soulmate, Chinese food was a big staple of what you tasted almost weekly so this food should give that familiar taste.

You blew on the soup before taking a sip making your eyes widen at how amazing it was, feeling yourself get almost hungrier from just that sip. You immediately dig into the food, feeling the amazing flavours hit your tongue as you began to scoop more noodles and beef slices into your spoon.

You think you finish the food in record time as Mrs Yang appears again, a proud satisfied smile on her face as she looks at the clean bowl.

"Wow!" She exclaims as you place the bowl down with a small thud. "You remind me of a boy I know, he really loves our beef noodle soup as well!"

You give her a warm smile, feeling the soup nourish and warm you up. "I can see why, it's really good." You say softly. "Please let me know how much it is later."

She shakes her head and gives you a small wave of her hand before she takes a seat opposite you. "There's no need." She says, her warm smile never fading. "We just wanted to warm you up because you were absolutely drenched by the rain. Plus, seeing the way you enjoyed eating our food is enough payment for us."

You blush a little at her words before you take in more of the restaurant, the soft accompaniment of the raindrops hitting the pavement and the soft melody of the old Mandarin song accompanying your little analysis.

Mrs Yang abruptly stands up, startling you slightly as you watch her waddle her way over to the front door. She flips the sign to 'close' making your eyes widen as you scramble to stand up. You pause when you hear her let out a really hearty laugh, turning to fix her with a face of confusion.

"Where are you running off to dear?" She asks, a teasing smile on her face as you feel your cheeks slightly warm at that. "Erm," You point towards the sign, "Aren't you closing?"

She laughs again, waving her arms as she gestures for you to sit. "The dryer hasn't finished it cycle yet." She points out. "Are you planning to leave without your clothes?"

Your eyes widen in realization, your jaw dropping slightly as your brain races for an excuse, an explanation, particularly anything at this point. However, before you could embarrass yourself even further in-front of the old lady, she speaks again.

"Plus, Mr Yang and I don't get many customers when it rains." She says softly, reaching you to push you gently back into your chair. "We used to get these four rowdy boys coming in whenever it rains but they're too busy with their music or whatever."

You smile a little at her nostalgic tone. "Do they live in the neighbourhood?" You ask making her smile larger, her eyes wrinkling with the smile crinkles as she nods. "Something like that."

You glance at the corner of the room where the digital clock was and deflate slightly. It was only 11:45pm, which meant that Chris would probably only be home in an hour or two before realizing that you aren't there and would only roughly pick you up in three hours.

"Why the face dear?" You hear Mrs Yang asking as you meet her gaze, a frown on her face. "Well…" You trail off slightly, contemplating how to put your predicament into words without embarrassing yourself even more as you glance towards your dead phone on the table.

Mrs Yang notices your glance and makes a sound of understanding. "Ah!" She exclaims making your gaze land on the older woman. "Do you need to charge your phone dear?" She asks making you hesitate slightly before nodding slowly.

She waddles over to you with her arm stretched making you tentatively put the phone into her wrinkly hands. She calls for her husband in Mandarin making the man peer his head out through the kitchen curtain with his head tilted.

She says a few words to him in Cantonese making him gives her a firm nod, an easy smile on his face before disappearing through the curtain again. In less than five minutes, he reappears with a tea pot and two tea cups that he places on your table. The smell of the tea makes you feel slightly warmer inside as you watch Mr Yang pluck the phone from his wife's hands and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before taking your phone to the cashier counter to charge it.

You smile a little to yourself at the fond interaction as Mrs Yang takes her seat opposite you again. Mrs Yang pulls the teacups in front of the two of you before pouring the tea slowly. She places one in-front of you making you thank her quietly as you take a sip, the warm liquid filling you up as you feel warmth spread throughout your chest.

The Mandarin song changes to a slower one that has Mrs Yang humming along to it, sipping the tea with absolute delight on her face as the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. You let your eyes flit across the room once more, seeing all the different types of memorabilia dotting the walls making a small smile appear on your face.

"I really love the interior of the place." You note out simply. "Feels very much like home."

Her grin widens even more at your words as she eyes the place that she and Mr Yang built up.

"When Mr Yang and I came here thirty years ago, we felt a little homesick while looking for a job." She says, her eyes slightly glazing over as she eyes a picture behind you of a younger version of the two of them, standing in-front of the restaurant on opening day.

"After we had given up, we decided to open this restaurant instead." Her expression morphs into a wistful as she retells her story. "So when we were constructing this place, we took inspiration from our old house back in Chengdu. A few of the pieces on the walls are some of the items we brought along with us."

She points to a beautiful cyan bamboo weaved hat that was hung near the entrance of the restaurant, that looks slightly vintage but had multiple beautiful roses on them. A bunch at the side was blue, the opposite side was red while there was one giant one painted in multiple shades of purple.

"That was the first craft that Mr Yang and I made together." She says, her smile wide as she recounts the memory. Your mouth drops open slightly as you stare at the work, slightly in awe. "It's really beautiful," You say, admiring the line work of the art a little more. "I really love the roses."

If possible, her smile widens even more at your words as she nods with a slight bit of pride on her features. "Mr Yang and I spent hours hand-painting them after our wedding. He wanted the two of us to work on something together that represents the two of us."

She pulls up her long sleeves. turning her arm closer to you for you to see. You lean in closer, squinting slightly before your eyes widen in realization as you stare at the rose tattoo etched onto her arm.

The rose was almost a splitting image of the ones painted on the bamboo craft, the only difference being that it was a singular rose and the rose was split into half, one half a crimson maroon whereas the other side was a vibrant blue. You let your eyes trail along the line work of the ink, noticing that the colours diverged seamlessly together almost as if it was intentional, leaving in its trail a beautiful shade of purple.

You meet Mrs Yang's gaze, a little more starstruck as she gives you a prideful smile.

"It's beautiful." You whisper out, taking one last glance at the tattoo before leaning back against your chair. Mrs Yang stares at the tattoo for another beat before rolling her sleeves down and looking back at the bamboo craft on the wall.

"It was one of the only things we brought along with us from our house in Chengdu." Mrs Yang says, her tone full of nostalgia. "We brought a lot of other stuff as well but," She shakes her head slowly, "It's one of the only things that represent the both of us as soulmates."

You quiet down at her words, your heart clenching slightly as you digest her words. She turns to you, her expression morphing into one of curiosity. "How about you my dear?" She asks softly, her eyes glinting a little. "Do you have a soulmate?"

You feel your heart rate pick up slightly at the question, unsure of how much you wanted to share with this lady that you just met. However, upon looking at the steaming cup of tea in front of you as well as the empty bowl beside it, you realize that a little truth never hurt anyone.

"I haven't met him yet." You say softly, after swallowing your nerves and wiping your sweaty palms against the borrowed sweatpants. Her features soften at your confession as she reaches out to tug your hand into hers, giving it a firm squeeze, shocking you slightly.

"I'm sure he's out there, yearning and longing for you as well my dear." She says softly.

Her words make your mouth go try and your heart thud faster against your chest making you give her a nervous laugh. "I don't know." You say, slightly awkward as you glance towards your joint hands. "I think we're a bit too different for each other to be each others halves."

You feel Mrs Yang stiffen slightly at your words making you glance up to meet her eyes, an unreadable expression on her face as she takes you in, her eyes scanning your facial features. You feel slightly uncomfortable at her calculating gaze but as soon as you want to mention it, her expression drops to something softer as she gives your hand a squeeze again.

"Soulmates aren't meant to be similar to you dear." She says softly. "They are meant to be the one that completes your soul, fill in the gaps so that the two of you feel complete when you are together. Independently, you both will survive without each other but being together," She pauses, glancing towards the bamboo craft hanging near the door making her smile, "makes everything feel as if it was meant to be, as if it was written in the stars."

You feel your breath hitch at her words as she stares softly at you, her wistful smile never wavering as you feel your heart beat slightly harder in your chest. She pauses, as if she was waiting for your response making you swallow hard as you open your mouth to try and sputter a response together.

Before you could, Mr Yang's footsteps interrupt you and his wife making the two of you turn towards the older man who has your phone in his hand. He reaches your table in two big strides, a small smile on his face.

"Sorry to interrupt." He says, glancing towards your joint hands making your cheeks heat up slightly as you gently pull your hand away from his wife's grasps. He clears his throat before sliding your phone across the table, speaking as you pick it up to turn it on.

"You were getting a call from someone named Chris a couple of minutes ago." He says, resting a hand on his wife's shoulder as your eyes widen before glancing towards the time on your device, noticing that only an hour had passed.

You open your phone quickly to see a bunch of missed calls and text messages from your older brother as well as a few from his roommate making you let out a sigh, knowing you were going to get an earful from the older one as soon as you got home.

As if Chris could read your thoughts, your phone immediately rings, a picture of you and him appearing on the lock screen. You hesitate for a beat before sliding your thumb across the screen and putting the phone to your ear.

"Hell—"

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

You flinch slightly at his sudden outburst, pulling the phone away from your ear as his voice booms out through the phone as if you had him on speaker. You glance in disdain at your phone as he continues his rant about safety and how he was about to lose his mind before you give Mr and Mrs Yang a sheepish smile.

"Sorry." You mumble out making Mrs Yang lets out a small laugh, waving her hand. "It's no problem dear." She says, glancing at the phone as your brothers voice continues to flow through it. "Family member?"

"Older brother." You say, a slight bit of disdain in your voice as Chris continues to rant, not knowing that you were only picking up on every fifth word of every sentence he was spouting.

You give them one more smile, gesturing for a second before standing and walking towards the door of the restaurant. You compose yourself a little before putting your phone back to your ear.

"— and I can't believe you didn't even think to bring the powerbank that I got for you for your birthday! Do those presents mean nothing to you, I swear to GOD—"

"CHRIS!" You yell into the phone, making him pause mid-rant as you inhale slowly. "I'm sorry for not picking up the phone or bringing that brick of a power bank that you got for me for my birthday." You apologize, gnawing on your bottom lip.

"I'm safe and would really love a pickup please." You say slightly softer this time. Chris was silent for a moment before a loud groan fills your ears. "I'm five minutes away Red." He says, his tone still slightly tense.

You blink at that. "What?" You say, a little taken aback by his statement. He scoffs and you imagine him rolling his eyes as he mutters something to himself.

"You forget that I have your location on my phone huh?" He says as you hear the buzzing of the car in the background, not knowing how you didn't notice it before. "I checked your location when I was in the office, realized that you weren't home so I left early to come get you after I couldn't reach you."

You felt guilt creep into your veins as you process his words and let out a small sigh, knowing how much you worried him. "I'm sorry." You say again, softly and more sincere this time. Chris lets out a sigh on the other end. "You're safe." He says, repeating your words from earlier, "I'll be there in three minutes, just wait outside for me."

The two of you hang up after you agree before you turn back to the elderly couple. Mr and Mrs Yang stand near you with your bag and another in their hands making you blink as Mr Yang passes you your bag while Mrs Yang passes you a large paper one.

You take it from her slightly tentative as you peer inside to see your clothes plus a couple of takeaway boxes making your eyes widen. You whip your head up to meet their gazes, your jaw dropped open as you try to sputter for a way to say that you didn't need this much food.

Mrs Yang halts you by raising her hand and giving you a stern look.

"Don't worry about it dear," She says, "We made too much food and from your phone call with your hyung, it seems like he might be hungry as well, so share the food with him."

"But the clothes—"

She waves you off again. "Please keep them!" She says before muttering a little lower, "Lord knows we have too many." She has a small knowing smile on her face as she glances up at her husband who laughs, sharing an inside joke from what you could tell.

"Are you two big fans of Seventeen?" You ask, not being able to help yourself as you glance between the two of them. The elderly couple let out another laugh at your confusion before Mrs Yang waves her hand. "Something like that." She says, a similar tone used when she said those same words just an hour before.

A horn outside the shop breaks the warm atmosphere making you look outside to see Chris's car. You turn back to the elderly couple.

"Thank you so much for everything." You thank making the couple give you a warm look as Mrs Yang steps forward to grab your hands into hers.

"I hope you come back soon dear." She says, her eyes glinting with sincerity as she gives your hands a squeeze. "We would love to feed you again and learn more about you."

You feel your chest warm slightly at her words before giving her a small nod as a smile crosses your face. "I will." You whisper out, giving her a small nod before she lets your hands go. You walk out of the restaurant and head to Chris's car but not before giving the elderly couple another wave.

Chris's cologne immediately fills your nose as soon as you shut the door before turning to your older brother who looked slightly more disheveled compared to when you left this morning.

Before he could open his mouth to chastise or fuss over you, you beat him to it.

"Thank you for picking me up and I'm sorry, I should listen to you next time and take the car and I will bring out the pink energy brick out with me tomorrow as well."

Chris blinks at your apology before a huff escapes him, he shakes his head and places his hands on the wheel again.

"You're so lucky that I'm more relieved than mad." He says, his tone still slightly tense with an undertone of tiredness. You give him a small smile before turning to place your bags in the backseat.

"We should come back to this restaurant sometime." You say as Chris puts the car into drive and slowly pulls away from the restaurant. "I think you would like their beef noodle soup."

You see Chris sneak a glance at you, a glint of confusion in them. "I thought you didn't like Chinese food?"

You shrug, looking out the window as the streets whizzed past. "Maybe I was too quick to judge." The double meaning in your sentence wasn't lost on you. Mrs Yang's words lingering in your thoughts as they play over and again.

Were you really too quick to dismiss this person who is meant to be your other half?

In the midst of her cleaning, Mrs Yang's eyebrows furrow as she hears the bell chime again, signaling that a customer has just arrived. She glances towards the door, her expression never changing until she spots the four that she has been feeding religiously for the last ten years.

"Aigooo." She coos out as soon as the tallest of them comes closer to her, dressed in a black hoodie with a luggage behind him. "I thought you all were only going to be back the day after tomorrow?"

Jun lets out a laugh as the elderly woman pulls him into a hug, accepting it by wrapping his arms around her tightly and giving her a shining smile. "Our schedule ended early." He cheekily says, his grin never wavering. "We were craving some food that tastes like home so we asked the driver to bring us here instead of back to our homes."

Soonyoung, Chan and Minghao stand behind him, with matching grins on their faces as Mrs Yang pulls each of them into a hug. Mr Yang, hearing the commotion steps out of the kitchen, his eyes and smile widening as he sees the four familiar boys.

"Wow!" He exclaims, bringing each of them in for a hug. "You boys look like the airport didn't even affect the four of you."

The four give him a sheepish smile before the elderly couple shoos them into the center table, eager to feed them.

"What can I get for you boys today?" Mrs Yang asks, her eyes glinting as she looks between the four boys. Soonyoung, Chan and Minghao share a teasing glance, before Chan turns to Mrs Yang.

"Mrs Yang," he singsongs out, "I hope you have your amazing beef noodle soup today!" He ends his sentence with a glance towards Jun, a smug grin on his face as the other shrinks slightly, a little flushed.

Mrs Yang glances between the two of them before turning her gaze to the tallest one.

"Did you miss our food so much that you brought the three boys along with you again?" She questions, a teasing smile on her face.

Jun flushes slightly at the accusation, lifting up both his hands to wave them as he lets out a sheepish laugh. "No no." He says, trying to defend himself through his laughs.

The other three collectively roll their eyes before Soonyoung turns to Mrs Yang, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Jun's soulmate was actually the ones who brought us here."

Mrs Yang's eyes widen as her hand flies to cover her open mouth before she turns to Jun. "Oh my gosh!" She exclaims. "You met her already?"

Jun shakes his head, scratching his nape as he fixes her with a semi lovesick grin. "She was having some Chinese food earlier." He says, his grin turning more lovesick by the second. "I tasted it when she was eating and it felt like she was enjoying it. It tasted almost like your beef noodle soup."

Mrs Yang freezes at that, but Jun doesn't notice as he keeps rambling on. "So, I thought that she was trying to tell me that maybe she was thinking about me or something." He says, the tips of his ears turning pink. "I thought maybe if I have it here, we would end up having the same dinner so that she knows that I'm thinking about her as well."

Jun locks eyes with the older lady who immediately composes herself, a small grin appearing on her face that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Well." She starts, clearing her throat as she glances at the four of them. "You've come right on time! Mr Yang just made a new batch of beef soup with amazing tender slices."

She claps her hands. "I'll bring them out for you four!"

With that, she scurries into the kitchen, her heart racing as she runs through the words that Jun has just relayed to her.

It could just be a coincidence right?

She leans against the metal counter, processing the information when her husband glances over at her. He frowns, noticing her spacey look.

"Lo-po?" He asks, the endearing name rolling off of his tongue as he steps closer to his wife, intertwining their hands together. "Are you alright?"

Mrs Yang looks up and gazes into her husbands eyes, hesitating slightly before nodding slowly.

She feigns a small smile. "I'm alright lo-gong." He analyzes her face, frowning slightly.

"Are you sure?" He asks, bringing his wife closer. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Mrs Yang nods her head as she squeezes his hands in reassurance. "I'm fine dear." She glances through the kitchen curtain, looking at the tall boy who was laughing at something his members said, his grin bigger than it had been in months.

"I just hope that fate brings the two of them together."

THE SCALLION NOODLE MEETING - Week 3 out of 16

Two weeks later, you find yourself back in front of the glowing neon sign. You didn't know how or why but you felt a pull to this place that you couldn't explain.

You had tried to keep yourself busy the past two weeks. You visited almost all the different places on your list, eating tons of delicious food that tasted vaguely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Most of the time, you went by yourself during the non-peak hours, favouring the smaller crowds so that you could have some time to yourself and be able to document the flavour profiles correctly. Other times at night, you went with Chris who was determined to stick by your side as much as possible.

Today, however, you ended up cancelling all the restaurants on your agenda and you just unconsciously made your way here.

For two weeks, her words had been playing on repeat in your head. You found yourself thinking about the person who she meant, the person who was connected to your very soul. Somehow, you had started to yearn for him as well but you were stubborn, you wouldn't allow yourself to.

You continue to stare at the neon sign, unsure of whether you should go in when a voice interrupts your inner monologue.

"Are you going to stand there the whole day?"

You jump at the sound of the man's voice, whipping around to see a guy in a black hoodie, wearing a mask that obscures his face, the only thing visible being his eyes.

"God." You mutter out, glaring slightly at the man. "Do you normally sneak up on strangers and scare the daylights out of them?"

The man blinks at you before letting out a small laugh.

"Only when they're standing in-front of a Chinese restaurant, contemplating every single life choice they've ever made."

His sarcasm makes you roll your eyes. "Gee, thanks."

He gives you a shrug, his eyes glinting playfully. "You're welcome." If you could see under his mask, you were sure that he would be smirking at you. "So," The man says, glancing between the neon sign of the restaurant and you. "Why are you standing outside the restaurant as if you're contemplating life choices?"

You let out a huff, crossing your arms. "And why would I tell you, a complete stranger that?"

He shrugs. "Maybe you need someone to work through those life choices with."

You let out a huff, about to retort when the bell on the door rings and a bunch of different conversations flow out of the restaurant. You turn to see Mrs Yang, wide eyed as she stares at the two of you. You feel your face flush slightly, as if you've been caught red-handed but you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Why are the two of you standing outside and arguing?" She asks, apprehension in her voice making you give her a sheepish smile as the guy scratches his nape.

"We weren't arguing Mrs Yang." The man says, glancing in your direction before looking back at her. "We were just… talking."

He glances at you, hoping that you would catch on. You turn to Mrs Yang, nodding with an awkward smile on your face. "Yeah, just talking."

Mrs Yang glances between the two of you, entirely not believing a single word the two of you says but she nods anyway.

"Well, come in." She says, sternly as she opens the glass door wider, ushering the two of you in. "It's way too cold to be talking outside."

You and the man scurry into the restaurant, which was packed like sardines. "I'm sorry but it seems like we only have one table left." She says, apologetically as she gathers the menus for you and the man. "Mr Lim and his family are having a gathering today at the further side of the restaurant which means that we had to close off a certain section."

She glances between the two of you, clutching the menus in her hand. "Would the two of you be okay with sharing a table?"

You visibly freeze at the suggestion, eyes wide as you blink at the woman. She wants you to share a table with the insufferable man who made fun of you, five minutes ago? You didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the suggestion.

"I'm okay with it as long as she is." The man says, eyes locking with yours making your heart nearly bounce into your throat. You want to protest, to say anything against this suggestion but as you lock eyes with Mrs Yang again, the words die on your tongue.

You analyze her for a beat, taking in her dark rings under her eyes, how frazzled her hair looks compared to the first time you met her and felt a pit of guilt at the bottom of your stomach. You internally sigh, composing yourself and hoping that you will not kill this man with your chopsticks as you share a table with him before giving her a nod and the best smile that you can muster.

"Sure." You breathe out, glancing at the man again with a few daggers in your eyes as you give him a sickly sweet smile. "Let's share a table."

That's how you find yourself in a secluded corner of the restaurant, awkwardly sitting across the man, a menu in hand as you try your hardest to not accidentally kick the stranger in his legs. When you came the first time, you didn't notice how small the table was until this lanky man sits across from you.

You drag your eyes down the menu, contemplating what to order as you try to ignore the burning sensation at the left side of your head. The stranger had been staring at you since Mrs Yang had shown both of you the table before leaving, slightly frazzled as she went to attend to the Lim's gathering.

When you couldn't take it anymore, you let your eyes whip towards the stranger who jumps slightly as you abruptly lock eyes with him, a fiery intensity in them. "Why are you staring at me?" You hiss out making the stranger blink as he leans back against his chair.

"Trying to see if you made your decision yet." He says, fiddling with his mask. "It's going to be rush hour soon so we would have to wait a lot longer if you haven't."

You feel your eye twitch slightly at the admission. "Well, I'm sorry." You mutter out, eyes turning back to the menu, "it's only my second time here so I'm a little unsure of what to get."

You feel the man tug your menu down from your face, making you lock eyes with him again. "Want a suggestion?" He offers, making your eyes flit from one of his to the other, trying to gauge if he was joking. When it's clear that he isn't, you sigh, a little tired from the interaction before nodding.

"Sure." You say, placing the menu on the table and crossing your arms. "What could go wrong?"

A lot actually.

You find yourself thinking as Mrs Yang places a bowl of fried chicken in front of you seasoned with more red peppers than you have ever seen in your life. You feel your hands start to clam up and become sweaty as you inhale the spices through your nose.

"Dear." Mrs Yang tentatively says, seeing your face. "Is everything alright?"

You try to compose yourself as you wipe your hands on your jeans before locking eyes with her and giving her a weak smile.

"Yeah," You mumble out as you quick glance at the food again, "I'm alright."

If Mrs Yang weren't convinced, she doesn't say anything and just leaves you to stare at your food as your tablemate analyzes your reaction.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He bluntly states making you whip your head up to lock eyes with him.

"The food looks spicy."

"I would hope so, it's spicy chicken."

You frown at that and stare at the amount of peppers on your food again, wondering if you could will them to disappear the longer you stare at them.

"You can't handle spice." He states, the cogs in his brain turning as he watches you gnaw on your bottom lip, looking at the food apprehensively. "You should've told me that you can't handle spice."

"Well, I didn't expect to be accosted by your recommendation." You bite back, giving him a small glare even though you know it's not his fault. The stranger however, doesn't take it to heart as his eye lines crinkle at your words, a sign that he's smiling under his mask.

"Are you too scared to try it?"

You frown at his words, feeling your eye twitch as he eggs you on, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"It's hard to take you seriously when you're still wearing your mask." You say, hoping to change the topic as you cross your arms. "Why are you even wearing that anyway? Are you a celebrity or something."

He hums at your question before tugging his hood downwards, covering a little bit more of his forehead. "Something like that." He says making you stare at him, quizzically.

"What does that even mean?"

He sighs before locking eyes with you. "How about we make a deal."

You squint at him. "You're just trying to change the topic."

"You did that too a moment ago."

He got you there.

You sigh, unfolding your arms as you lean against the table. "I'm listening."

"I'll order us something different and pay for our meal if you promise to not tell anyone that you saw me here."

You raise an eyebrow at that. "What's stopping me from ordering what I want anyway and letting you starve because you refuse to take off your mask?"

He's silent for a beat as he blinks at you.

"You have a point."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the stranger, who leans back in his chair.

"But," He starts, crossing his arms, "I think you're smart enough to not pass up a free meal."

You contemplate his words for a second. You know he's egging you on, he's done nothing but be playful and egg you on since the moment he scared you outside the restaurant. By right, you should refuse, let the insufferable stranger suffer while you eat the Yangs' tasty food in front of him.

Which is why, it surprises you and him when the words that follow after was, "Fine, I'll bite."

His eye lines crinkle again before he waves Mrs Yang over and says something to her in Chinese. The elderly lady looks between the two of you, an unreadable glint in her eyes before she nods at the lanky stranger and takes the two plates of spicy chicken away.

"You speak Chinese?" You can't help but ask, making him nod.

"I'm Chinese." He says simply reaching to the side to get the jug of water that Mrs Yang brought earlier.

"Oh." You mutter out, feeling slightly embarrassed as he pours the water into your empty glasses. "I couldn't tell."

He waves you off. "It's alright, you can't really see my face and I gave you no indication whatsoever so," he shrugs, "it's not a big deal."

You feel slightly better, relaxing a little as you watch him tug his hood down again.

He cautiously looks around making a frown appear on your face. "You don't have to tell me who you are if you're uncomfortable by the way." You say making the stranger lock eyes with you as you feel a small pit in your stomach at the way his eyes keep glancing around. "I could always request for another table if you're uncomfortable."

He hesitates for a second before shaking his head. "No, a deal is a deal."

You open your mouth to retort but he moves before you can, looking downwards before bringing his fingers to his ears and plucking off the mask as if it was second nature.

When he looks up, your eyes widen as you immediately register who he was.

"You're Jun from Seventeen." You state, looking at his features as he gives you a sheepish smile.

"Surprise?" He mutters, a weak laugh escaping his lips. You stare at him for a little longer, watching his confident facade shatter slowly as he looks at you with a little more apprehension after he realizes that you knew who he was.

"It all makes sense now." You say as everything clicks in your head.

The man in-front of you frowns in confusion. "What?"

"I came here two weeks ago, drenched in the rain and Mrs Yang gave me a hoodie and sweatpants from your group to change into." You say, as your eyes flit around his face, taking in his features. "I thought they were big fans of your group but you probably gave it to them."

He stares at you for a minute. "Are you a detective or something?"

You let out a snort, as you try to keep your growing smile off of your face. "I'm just observant."

"A little too observant."

"Well, sue me then."

You roll your eyes as Jun gives you a mischievous grin.

Mrs Yang appears at the corner of your eye making you turn towards the elderly lady as she places two new bowls in-front of you two. She eyes the two of you, noticing the lack of Jun's mask before a knowing smile creeps onto her face.

Your eyebrow raises at her expression but before you can ask, she bids the two of you a good meal before rushing back to the Lim gathering.

You look down at the bowl, noticing the lack of any red peppers or flakes making you smile as you notice the bowl only had what looks like tossed noodles with a sauce, topped off with spring onions and a fried egg. The smell of the spring onions floods your nose making your mouth water slightly.

"Scallion oil noodles." Jun says as he passes you a chopstick from the side box. "Mr Yang cooks them really authentically, it's one of my favourite dishes from here."

"And here I was thinking that you like to put your own taste buds through hell for fun." You mutter out making Jun roll his eyes. You use your chopsticks to place the food into your mouth as you take tentative bites.

The immediate flavour explosion in your mouth makes your eyes widen as you taste every single ingredient on your taste buds. You stare at the noodles, a little shell shock before you shove a few more bites into your mouth.

You can't fathom how you've never eaten anything like this in your few years of being a food journalist. You've definitely tasted this flavour profile before, no doubt from your soulmate but eating it and tasting it is definitely two different things

Jun who has also eaten the noodles, gives you a smile as he chews, watching as you happily slurp up the noodles, satisfaction written all over his face.

"So," He starts, taking a sip of his water, "Since you know who I am, I think it's only fair that I know your name right?"

You give him a side-glance, in between your bites before your eyes narrow slightly as you swallow your food. "I think there's a certain irony to your statement with you being a very famous idol."

Jun gives you a small pout. "C'mon." He says, the pout deepening. "I'm already paying for your meal, the least you could do is give me your name."

You want to retort that the meal was the expense of keeping his secret but as you watch his pout deepen a little more, you internally curse before giving him your name.

He repeats your name with ease as you feel your heart skip a beat upon him pronouncing your name. You furrow your eyebrows at the pinch in your chest before shrugging it off as just a weird prickle, maybe from the amount of oil in the noodles.

"Do you like the noodles?" Jun asks, gesturing to your bowl that is already half empty.

You nod, taking a few more bites of the springy noodles, humming contently. "I don't really like Chinese food but this is really good."

The idol freezes at your words, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth as he looks at you, his eyes wide, noodles forgotten. "You don't like Chinese food?" He asks, a little baffled as he just continues to stare at you as if you just said something really incriminating.

You shrug, swallowing the noodles before taking a sip of your water. "Just had some bad experiences with Chinese food." All because of your soulmate but you left that part out, not wanting to divulge in that with a complete stranger, even if he was famous and known for being kind-hearted and a good person.

Jun eyes you for another second, a gentle curiosity swirling in his eyes. "Then why did you come here? They only serve Chinese food here."

You hesitate a little at his question. You knew it was coming but you couldn't tell the idol that you came here because of an unexplainable pull, you would sound a little strange and kind of crazy. So, you settle for half of the truth.

"I wanted to come back and repay Mr and Mrs Yang for their kindness. I was going to actually pay them the money for the meal that they gave me last week."

Jun fixes you with a look of amusement and a slight smirk before shaking his head.

"You clearly haven't seen Mrs Yang's stubborn side if you think you can just repay her back."

You frown at his statement. "What makes you think she won't accept the money?"

Jun fixes you a look as his eyebrows raise. "Did you offer her money two weeks ago after she fed you?"

"Yeah but—"

"Did she accept the payment or did she fix you with one of her motherly stares that got you to shut up?"

Your silence answers him, making him laugh as he shakes his head. "Trust me." He says, using his chopsticks to cut the fried egg into smaller pieces. "Pigs will fly before she accepts your money."

You roll your eyes at his words, a small smile on your lips as you shake your head before continuing to eat your food. The two of you eat in silence, occasionally making small talk about the food as Jun shares with you a few small anecdotes about how Mrs Yang and her husband was a few years ago. The stories make you laugh as he recounts them with an exaggerated passion, his hands moving around animatedly here and there.

"So what do you do?" He asks, polishing off his food as he grabs a tissue paper from the container at the side. "Other than stand outside Chinese restaurants and contemplate your life decisions."

You scoff before taking a sip of your water to cleanse your palette. "I'm a food journalist."

His eyes widen. "Wow! That's really cool!"

Your brows furrow. "Says the guy who is apart of one of the biggest boygroups on the planet." You say, animatedly moving your arms. "Plus, aren't you also an actor?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I mean it, you must be a really good food journalist if you got sent here for an assignment."

Your eyebrows furrow even more as you stare at the man, shock running through your veins. "What? How did you know that?"

He gestures to your handbag. "You still have the tag from the airport hanging off the third zipper."

You turn and internally curse as you see the white string and tag from the airport. You feel your cheeks heat up as you rush to rip it off, crumple it and place it into your bag to try to save yourself from a little embarrassment. You clear your throat before looking back at the idol who was trying very hard not to laugh, even with his hand over his mouth.

You send him a narrow glare (or at least try to) as you point at him. "Don't laugh."

"I'm not! You can't even see my mouth!"

"Your eye lines tell me otherwise!"

That makes the idol crack up, his eye lines crinkling more which makes you freeze, realizing just how pretty he is.

You weren't blind by any means, the minute he took off his mask, you could tell that he was good-looking even without the full-face of makeup. With your brother in the industry, you had watched every MAMAs award show that he had been apart of and with Seventeen up there as one of the bigger boy groups, you've definitely thought that they were good-looking, especially Jun who always looked like he belonged on the stage.

The idol finally calms down, his smile not leaving his face as you shake yourself out of your thoughts. "So, what's your assignment about?"

You freeze at the question, gnawing lightly on your lip as you give him a once over, wondering if you should be honest or not. He notices the look on your face, his eyes softening. "If it's too personal, you don't need to tell me." He says, his voice reassuring as he gives you a soft smile. "I just think it's really cool that you get to travel and just eat food, I think one of my bandmates would kill to do that."

You feel a small smile creep onto your lips as you relax slightly, hearing the awe in his words. "Let me guess, DK?"

He laughs, nodding. "Or maybe Hoshi." He says, leaning his elbows on the table, his posture relaxing as he realizes that you were more comfortable now as you let out a laugh.

"Sounds like him."

His smile widens "So, I assume you're somewhat familiar with my group then, if you're able to make associations like that."

You feel a bit of warmth on your cheeks as you clear your throat. "Well, my brother's involved in the industry as well, so after a while, you kind of have to know who is who after watching all the different concerts and award shows."

His head tilts at that, a look of curiosity flashing across his face. "Oh!" He says with a slight understanding, "Is your brother an idol too?"

You nod, a small sense of pride settling in your chest as you pick up your phone before turning it to face him, a picture of you and Chris as your lock screen.

His eyes widen in realization. "You're Bang Chan's sister?" He asks, gawking a little as you nod.

"Wow, I've only ever heard about your younger sister, Hannah." He says, his smile widening a little more. "What a small world, Vernon, Mingyu and Minghao always talk about how cool your brother is."

You smile a little more, thinking about your brother who was probably working his ass off in the studio right now and having the best time. "Yeah, he's the coolest."

His smile widens, grabbing the water jug to refill his empty cup, leaving you with your thoughts. You think back to his previous question, wondering if you should answer it or not. Jun has been nothing but honest with you since the start of your meal, even honouring his side of the deal even if he didn't need to. You would've stuck by your words if he had decided to not shown you and asked Mrs Yang for another table instead.

Your mouth made the decision for you before you could even comprehend it.

"I'm doing a soulmark assignment."

Jun freezes mid-pour as he turns to you, his eyes wide. "Oh, that's pretty cool." He says, nodding slightly. "Have you already met him?"

You shake your head, using your chopsticks to move your food around, letting it sop up the scallion oil. "The assignment was about to write about the places that we think our soulmate has been to based on the soulmark we're given."

His eyebrows furrow. "That's pretty vague."

You let out a snort. "You're telling me."

"Is the goal for you to find them at the end of it?"

You shrug. "All I know is that I'm here for four months, a tight schedule for sure to figure out which restaurant means the most to my soulmate." You say, the tone of your voice turning slightly bitter towards the end as you say 'soulmate'.

Jun notices, fixing you with a small curious grin. "I take it you're not the biggest fan of your soulmate?"

You slouch slightly, letting out a sigh. "Let's just say that our flavour preferences make us very very different people."

"You have something against his food preferences?"

"I have something against the fact that he's trying to kill my tastebuds in the process."

"Is he the reason why you have a grudge against Chinese food?"

You lift up your hand in mock defense. "Hey, I don't have a grudge against Chinese food." You point out, making Jun's expression morph into one of amusement. "I just have a grudge against my soulmate who puts chili oil on almost everything, as if the food needs that extra bit of spice."

Jun lets out a laugh before shrugging. "Can't say I fault him for it, chili oil is definitely one of the best things ever."

You snort, placing your last bit of noodles into your mouth, chewing then swallowing as you polish off your food. "I'm sure the two of you would get along great." You sarcastically remark making Jun laugh again.

"So, what are you a fan of?"

You ponder for a moment. "I'm a big fan of sweet stuff like cake, ice-cream, macaroons. Oh! Affogato as well." You watch Jun make a face as a shudder goes through his body making you raise an eyebrow at the man. "Not the biggest fan of sweet stuff?"

Jun immediately shakes his head. "Can't say that I am. Sugar makes me feel really ill sometimes, especially if there's too much of it. My soulmate is the biggest cake fan though, she really loves eating it."

You smile at that. "Sounds like we would get along great as well."

Jun laughs, smiling at the implication of the two of you meeting each others' soulmate when his phone rings. He glances at it before his face pales and his eyes widen.

"Shit." He mutters, staring at his phone for another beat before wiping his mouth quickly and slipping his mask on in record speed. The actions make you jolt as you blink at the idol who was moving at the speed of light, shoving his wallet and phone into his pockets.

"What?" You ask, finding your voice as he reverts himself to his pre-meal mode. He looks at you, his eyes softening a little from the panic that was in them moments ago as he pulls down his mask.

"I forgot I have practice in half an hour, so I need to get going now." A small frown appears on his face as he finishes his sentence, looking a little crestfallen that your time together was coming to an end. You blink at him, before glancing at the time, your eyes widening as well as you realize that you and Jun had been eating and talking for almost two hours.

"That makes two of us then." You say, a laugh bubbling in your throat as you pack up your stuff. "I forgot that I got an interview with the owner of a restaurant for my assignment in half an hour as well."

Jun lets out a laugh at the realization as he stands, towering over you slightly as he fixes you with a cheery smile. "Guess we aren't so different after all."

You roll your eyes as he pulls his mask back up before gesturing for you to move first. "After you."

You give him a polite 'thank you' before the two of you head to the front counter where the cash register was. Mrs Yang's eyes flit between the two of you, the same knowing smile on her face.

"How was the food my dears?" Jun's eye lines crinkle again. "Amazing as always Mrs Yang." He says before gesturing to you. "I think our food journalist will definitely be putting it in her article."

You let out a small scoff, giving him a quick side-eye before looking at Mrs Yang, your expression changing to one of adoration. "The food was lovely Mrs Yang. Please help me thank Mr Yang for the food as well."

She waves you off, a wide smile on her face despite how tired she looked from the chaos of the rush hour. "It was our pleasure to feed you." Her eyes flit between the two of you again. "Both of you."

You think back to your words to Jun a while ago and take out your purse from the depths of your handbag. "Before I forget, please take this Mrs Yang." You say, producing a few bills. The older woman fixes you with a stern look as she shakes her head.

"Dear, I already insisted the last time that you don't need to pay me." You open your mouth to protest but she holds up her hand again, her eyes narrowing slightly as her

Your mouth snaps shut at that as you slowly put the bills back into your wallet making Mrs Yang's stern expression instantly drop, replacing it with a prideful one, knowing that she has successfully won the argument again.

Mrs Yang - 2, You - 0

You glance at Jun who fixes you with a look, his eyes glinting as if to tell you 'I told you so' making you roll your eyes as Jun passes a few bills to Mrs Yang, paying for your meal and his. Mrs Yang hands him the receipt before reaching to the counter behind her and taking the plastic bag that was seated on it.

"Before I forget," She starts, giving the big white plastic bag to Jun, "I packed a few things for you and the boys to enjoy."

Jun's eyes widen as he takes the bag from her with zero protest, almost as if Mrs Yang trained him to just accept everything she gives to him — which she probably did, considering how long they've known each other.

"Thank you so much!" Jun says as he peers into the bag, his eyes flitting from one box to another. "You really didn't have to."

Mrs Yang waves him off. "Nonsense." She states. "If I don't feed you guys, God knows that you all will starve by how much dancing you all do."

Her comments make you let out a laugh which you try to cover up as a cough as Jun gives you a side-glance. He looks back at her, his eyes softening more. "Thank you."

She gives him a smile of adoration before turning to the back counter once more and producing a smaller white plastic bag which she holds out for you. Your eyes widen, about to protest again but falter as soon as you see the expression on her face.

You sheepishly take the bag from her, peering inside to see a few food containers filled with some scallion oil noodles, a few servings of spring rolls, a meat dish as well as a box of stir-fried vegetables.

"For you and your brother."

Your heart squeezes at her words, feeling warmth spread through your chest as you try to swallow your emotions. You look up, giving her a soft smile. "Thank you so much."

She mirrors your smile. "It's no problem at all my dear, I hope we see you again soon."

You nod, your grin growing wider. "I'll bring my brother with me next time." You reassure her. "He was raving about how good the beef noodles were, made a lot of his friends jealous."

She laughs as you recount the video Jeong-In had sent to you when your brother brought Mrs Yang's beef noodles to work and was just making a show out of it in-front of his members. They looked like they were seconds away from chasing your brother down the hallways of JYP if he made a single new sound and talked about how good it was and that he wasn't sharing.

"I guess I'll see the two of you soon then." Mrs Yang says as she walks to open the door for the two of you. "I hope you two enjoyed each others companies."

You and Jun glance at each other before you turn back to Mrs Yang. "It was definitely an experience."

Jun narrows his eyes at your words. "But I was an angel."

You scoff. "And I'm a multi-billionaire." You say, the sarcasm just rolling off your tongue making Jun shake his head and walk through the door.

The two of you bid Mrs Yang goodbye once more before she closes the restaurant door behind her. You turn to Jun, a little awkwardly as you shuffle your handbag onto your shoulder.

"Well, it was nice meeting you." You say, giving him a smile. "I hope you don't sneak up on me the next time we cross paths again."

Jun laughs, shaking his head a little before locking eyes with you and giving you a wink. "It'll only happen if you contemplate life outside a Chinese restaurant again."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to keep your smile off your face this time as you give him a wave before making your way to the right of the restaurant. You scroll to your itinerary when Jun calls out your name, making you turn to face him.

Your eyebrow raises as he looks at you, blinking as if he didn't realize that he called out your name, until it rolled off of his tongue. Before you could question further, Jun jogs over to you and hands you his phone. You take it before your eyes widen at the 'new contact' page staring right at you.

You blink before looking up at him, your eyes still wide as saucers as you fix him with a look of confusion. "What?" You ask as you stare at him, completely dumbfounded by his actions.

He shrugs, using his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I had a lot of fun talking to you today and," he hesitates slightly, "I want to try to change your mind about Chinese food before you meet your soulmate."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What's the catch?"

His eyes widen as he lifts both arms in surrender, the big plastic bag rustling as he does so. "No strings attached, I promise." He says, absolute assurance in his voice. "I just know what it's like to be on the receiving end of the taste mark and my soulmate has been quite pleasant with their food preferences so…" He shrugs. "Let me at least try to convince you that your soulmate isn't all that bad."

You blink at him again, slowly digesting his words before looking down to peer at the cursor, pulsing as it awaits an input.

"You don't need to!" Jun suddenly exclaims, his free hand starting to wave animatedly as he starts to ramble. "I just thought that I should introduce you to better Chinese foods that will give you a better impression of the person before you meet them and brush them off completely. I mean, as someone with a taste mark as well, I also know that food sometimes doesn't taste as it seems and—"

You interrupt him, mid-ramble by grabbing his free hand and placing his phone back into it. Jun blinks before looking at his phone to see that you sent a message to yourself after inputting your contact into it.

He turns back to you as you give him a small smile. "I'm in if it's more free food."

He blinks before huffing out a laugh, shaking his head. "Don't think that was part of the deal." He ends the sentence with a teasing chastise tone of your name making you shrug.

"Too bad, it was." You cheekily reply before adding. "Also call me Red."

Jun tilts his head to the side. "Red?" He repeats, the word rolling nicely off of his tongue. "Why Red?"

"I'll tell you when we meet the next time but, I figure it easier to call me that than my actual name, lesser syllables."

Jun eye lines crinkle, a sigh that he's smiling under his mask before nodding. He glances towards his phone before taking a few steps backwards. "I guess I'll see you soon Red."

You nod, flashing him a smile. "See you soon Jun."

PART TWO (26k)

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“Hm?” you hum, to break the silence.

“You always leave. Why don’t you stay? You’re always welcome to.”

After buttoning up your jeans, you finally turn to look at Jun.

Jun, Jun, Jun. 

It’s hard to focus when he’s sitting up in his bed, looking at you with shiny, earnest eyes. When you know he’s entirely naked underneath the covers. 

It’s always the same. 

You text Jun, or he texts you, you come over to his place when his roommates aren’t home, you let him rearrange your guts for hours, you cuddle under the covers until it gets dark out, then reality kicks in, so you get dressed and leave, convincing yourself that it’s better this way. 

You met Jun six months ago at your college campus’s local bar. Grace, your best friend, was invited to hang out with this guy she was seeing- Wonwoo, so she dragged you along, subjecting you to a dissection into how long it would take for Wonwoo, whom you’d never met, to kiss her. And what kind of kisser he would be. 

Wonwoo turned out to be incredibly handsome, so it only made sense that he had equally handsome friends. Like Wen Junhui. 

However, his personality was a tale as old as time.

I’m not into anything serious.

Haven’t you heard? He never sleeps with the same girl twice.

I like to keep it casual.

It’s not like you had to worry much about this because Jun didn’t notice you at all that whole night. The more Grace dragged you to places to see Wonwoo, the more you saw Jun, and finally, one fateful night in December, he noticed you. 

He was a lot softer than you were expecting, having a genuine conversation with you, bending occasionally to hear you better over the loud noise, looking deep into your eyes like you were the only person in the room. 

It was inevitable that you’d fall into his spell. And his bed. 

You’re not sure if you really like him, because even though he knows every inch of your body and you know every inch of his, you don’t know anything about him. What are his dreams? What does he do for fun? What is his biggest fear? You don’t know and you don’t ask.

It’s better this way.

It’s always going to be better this way.

“I have a cat.”

Jun tilts his head curiously.

“Um, he doesn’t really like my roommates, so I need to be home to feed him and take care of him.”

Jun perks up at this. “I love cats! What’s his name?”

“Peanut.”

The smile you receive is breathtaking. 

“I need to see a picture of Peanut sometime.”

You’re caught so off guard by this whole exchange that you don’t even flinch when he pulls the covers off his body, exposing himself to you before standing.

He grabs your elbow to pull you into his bare body and plants a kiss on your forehead just like he does every time you leave. He’s walking to the bathroom when you suddenly have a thought.

“Wait.”

Jun turns around.

“Do you, perhaps, want to meet Peanut?”

Peanut is the love of your life. He’s a Balinese, so he has super long cream colored fur with a mixture of dark brown around his face and paws. Your favorite features of his are his big, bright blue eyes. 

He’s incredibly apprehensive when you pull Jun forward to introduce them to each other. Peanut immediately runs to hide behind your vanity, slightly peeking his head out like he’s intrigued. You watch in profound dumbness as Jun gets down on his knees and starts meowing back at Peanut. How is Wen Junhui, one of the hottest guys you’ve ever met, this cringey? Before an ick can start to develop, Peanut slowly comes out of his hiding spot, approaching Jun like a fox on the prowl for prey. 

Step by step.

Before you know it, Peanut is curled up in Jun’s arms, purring contently. He looks at you, his big blue eyes saying one thing: I approve.

After taking your much-needed hot, steaming shower, you emerge from the bathroom to find Jun laying on his stomach, playing with Peanut, tapping his paws like a game of cat and mouse, giggling at Peanut’s tiny meows. You smile at the scene, glad that Jun is getting along so well with your cat, who isn’t even fond of your roommates. It also gives you the opportunity to observe the guy you know so little about. 

When you first started messing around with Jun, he had very long bleached blonde hair, bangs framing his incredibly gorgeous and well-structured face. Now his hair is back to its original color- black. It’s still long, parted slightly to the side, with bangs up to his sharp cheekbones. He wears small gold hoops, one on each ear, and lastly, dark brown oval-shaped glasses. When you see Jun outside of his bedroom, he’s typically not wearing his glasses, so you feel the slightest flutter in your heart that only you see him like this.

You also take the time to admire his muscular back, grateful that he chose to only wear loose gray sweatpants. Gosh, where do you even begin? Jun looks very tall and lanky, but underneath everything, he has an extremely well-defined body that you know takes lots of effort to maintain. From his chiseled abs, to his hard pecs, to his bulging arm muscles- you can’t even express just how beautiful he is.

He turns around to you, standing there ogling him, and of course, he gets a bit cocky, even flexing his biceps just for you. 

“I see you and Peanut are getting along?” you hum, curling yourself into Jun’s arms. He stares down at you with a look you’ve never seen in him. Before you know it, his lips are on yours, his big hand cradling the back of your head. It slowly starts to entangle in your hair, and you feel yourself melt into him. 

When you break apart, you feel soft fur brush against your arm. Peanut settles himself on Jun’s chest, nuzzling against his chin. The two of you let out a laugh of disbelief at getting cockblocked by your own cat. But, if you were being honest, you weren’t really in the mood. Just being with Jun like this was all you wanted. 

Draping the covers over him, you nestle into his side, making eye contact with Peanut. Jun wraps his arm around you, massaging your scalp in slow circles. 

“Is it really better this way?” you ask softly.

Jun’s hand in your hair pauses. “What do you mean?”

You shift so you can look up into his face. “Is what we have right now the best for us?”

“No, but to be honest with you, I don’t feel confident in my ability to be a boyfriend. It’s a lot of effort that I selfishly don’t feel like I can give. I just don’t want to disappoint you.” 

Silence fills the room as you process this subtle blow of rejection.

“How about this? Let’s go on a date. We can go to that new chicken spot downtown and get to know each other more?” he asks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re worth trying for,” Jun reassures you with a smile.

“Shut up Wonwoo.” You whisper through gritted teeth, although make a conscious effort to divert your attention away from the beauty that stands before you.

“You know you should….”

But Wonwoo doesn’t get to finish his sentence, Junhui’s attention turns to you both and even Wonwoo, who is generally unaffected by even the most disastrous of circumstances, sits up straight like a child who's just been caught doing something they absolutely shouldn’t be doing.

“Was that something you wanted to share Wonwoo?”

God, even the way he talks is like something from the past, it holds that same reverence of people centuries ago who used to speak properly and with authority, rather than the abbreviations and slang that everyone uses today. You’d once written lol (by accident) in an email to him and you’re certain you saw him getting a dictionary off his bookshelf to see what this strange word you’d emailed him meant. It’s just every single facet of him demands respect, be it his beauty or the way he holds himself, he’s a monolith in a world of pebbles and you can’t help being drawn in by him.

“Oh! Er…” Wonwoo frantically looks around the room hoping something might jump out at him, because he really can’t tell his boss that he was about to say ‘You know you should just fuck him in his office’, “_____! She has a couple of manuscripts by new authors that she hasn’t shut up about for weeks!”

Fuck you Jeon Wonwoo.

But then Junhui turns his attention to you and you’re presented with a hopeful smile that in all seriousness, you would enter a battle for.

“Is that true?”

You’re certain his skin is actually shimmering, not in that fresh glow you get when you’ve been in the sun or the mirror like hue you get after a particularly amazing facial, but it just shimmers like he’s glowing from within. You’re not even sure skincare could achieve it, it’s surely…..

“_____?”

Shit. The whole publishing department is waiting on your answer and you’re sitting deciding whether it’s moisturiser or genetics that causes your boss to be fucking ethereal.

“Sorry!” You blush, picking at the skin near your thumb nail, “I do have a couple that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but I wasn’t sure they’d be what you were looking for.”

“To be honest,” damn his smile for making it so hard to concentrate on a word he’s saying, “I don’t know what I’m looking for. We need something fresh yet…timeless, I suppose. We need something to shake up the industry, like…..”

“Like 1984 but perhaps a little less true to life?”

You’ve done it. Your life has peaked. You have made Junhui laugh, you’ve seen the wide smile that forms on that stoic face and now you’ll never get over it. And it isn’t that he’s unpleasant, he smiles to you all and wishes you a good morning, but you’ve never seen him laugh. And now you have and you think you want to have the privilege of hearing it every day for eternity.

“That’s exactly it _____, yes. If you have time this week, drop by my office and we’ll check out those manuscripts.”

Breathe _____. He’s asked you to stop by his office for work. The way your heart just leaped, you’d think he’d just gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.

“O-okay,” you nod, fumbling with your notebook and pen, whilst you desperately try to play it cool.

“Very smooth.” Wonwoo murmurs as he watches Junhui start talking about publishing deadlines.

“Fuck. Off.” You poke him with your pen, enjoying the way he tries to pretend it didn’t affect him.

The rest of Thursday, after the meeting, had been derailed by Vernon. One of the writers you look after as his editor and a man so annoying that in a few years, it wouldn’t surprise you if you were doing jail time for murdering him.

He’d called you in a panic, saying his creative spark had fizzled out and he was going to join a new “collective” of artists in Nepal, where he’d smoke weed and take part in group activities that would allow his creative juices to flow freely again. So, when you’d arrived at his house by the beach and discovered exactly what these “activities” included, you informed Vernon what he was actually planning on joining was a cult.

You then had to spend forty minutes with a frantic Vernon looking over your shoulder, coming down from his last high with a whole cake on a plate because of his munchies, as you checked every email from this “collective” and rang his bank to make sure they hadn’t already taken any payments. When the leader of the cult called him, not that you realised they used phones, you always thought cult leaders would have some sort of edgy system of communication, Vernon threw the phone to you in a blind panic.

Two hours. Two whole hours of your day wasted by talking to a man named Supreme Leader John the Second (presumably Supreme Leader John the First was the first cult leader) who was adamant that now Vernon was in the collective, he couldn’t leave.

It was only when you listed just how high maintenance Vernon was (he will only eat fish on Wednesdays or every third Saturday of the month, he likes to use a mixture of mouth washes and has specific measurements for said mixing and he will only eat cookies with even numbers of chocolate chips in them because odd numbers “encourage the world’s evils”) that Super Leader John decided that Vernon probably wasn’t suited to their collective and they’d actually quite prefer it if he never contacted them again.

So, Thursday had been a write off. And for most of Friday, Junhui had been in meetings with various higher ups that didn’t concern editors like yourself. But now most of the office had gone home and you were left with two manuscripts that had landed on your desk months ago, and that you’d fallen in love with as soon as you read them. They’re by unknown authors and aren’t the usual sort of thing that this company is used to publishing. All you can do is hope that Junhui likes them, if not, you’ve got yourself all worked up over the simple act of visiting his office, for nothing.

His office sits at the end of the large open plan work area, you can’t see in it as there’s a small corridor that leads into the actual office itself, but once you’re in there it’s like a dream. You’ve only been in a couple of times but each time you’ve been awestruck by the floor to ceiling bookshelves, full of books that you can tell he’s read from how well thumbed they are, and that don’t even look out of place in such a modern building. He even had special protective films installed on the windows so the sunlight coming through the glass building wouldn't harm any of his tomes, he is literally the man of your bookish dreams.

You take a deep breath, the excitement of getting to spend one on one time with Junhui mixing with the nerves of spending one on one time with him, and knock on the door.

You don’t get an answer, maybe he’s out? Maybe he’s gone home already? It is Friday after all and a man like him must have a wealth of options of things to occupy his time with.

You risk one more knock and if you get no answer, you’ll leave the manuscripts on his desk with a little note saying that you hope he likes them.

The second knock brings no response and so you slowly enter his office, the manuscripts bearing the brunt of your nerves as the paper slightly crumples from how hard you’re gripping them.

What you find though, makes your blood run cold.

“OH!” Junhui looks at you in horror, quickly hiding the cut crystal glass he’d been drinking from and trying to wipe his mouth, “I didn’t hear you knock _____! Sorry!”

You don’t reply. You can’t reply. You just stare at the man in the fine cut three piece suit, who would look as beautiful as ever if not for the red smears around his lips, that he’s desperately trying to wipe away with a handkerchief, with wide eyes.

Your heart is pounding in your ears, you’ve never felt fear like it. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee, to get away from him and whatever he was just doing and yet you can’t.

It’s like you’re frozen to the spot, nothing but fear pumping through you but your legs are cemented to the spot halfway between his desk and your way out of this nightmare.

“W-was,” you swallow, trying to collect your thoughts, “was t-that…..in that glass…..was it?”

You don’t finish your sentence, the reality of what it was he was drinking makes you feel like you want to vomit and if what he was drinking is what you think it is, you need to get as far away from this freak as quick as you can.

You drop the manuscripts and run, ignoring Junhui shouting after you to come back and let him explain. Explain what exactly? Why he was sitting at his desk, quite happily sipping on a glass of fucking blood like it was a fine wine to be savoured? For the first couple of seconds, you wondered if it was tomato juice or a Bloody Mary but Bloody Marys don’t leave a stain on your skin like that. Because when Junhui tried to wipe away the residue on his mouth, it smeared and stained. It smeared and stained exactly like blood.

You know you’re going to have to answer the door. You’ve seen vampire movies, nobody just sees a vampire drinking blood and goes happily about their life afterwards. And from the way Junhui has been knocking at your apartment door for the past ten minutes, your life isn’t going on happily at all.

On your drive home, which you just hope you didn’t hit any old ladies or drive through any red lights whilst you weren’t paying any attention, you did toy with the idea that he’s just a weirdo. He’s just a weirdo that drinks blood and that might’ve been something you could deal with. But then you thought about it, really thought about it. The shimmer to his skin, the way he talks like he’s from another time, literally everything about him completely juxtaposes everything that the modern man is. And you know it’s far reaching and anyone would call you insane if you tried to tell them, but you just know it, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Wen Junhui is a vampire.

He’s been gently knocking on your door, desperately pleading with you to let him explain but you’re not an idiot. You know once you open that door, you’re dead. You’ve always had good veins, every nurse that’s ever taken a blood sample has commented how wonderful your veins are and so he won’t waste any time in feasting on you. You’re certain of it.

You did try to google what wards off a vampire, but the first one was sunlight and given he’s chosen to work in a glass building, even if his office does have protection for his books, sunlight doesn’t seem to be a problem. And what is more, you’re not religious so why the fuck would you just have a crucifix around the apartment?

Yes. You have garlic but it’s surely not enough to ward off a whole vampire, there’s probably some equation whereby each foot in height equals ten bulbs of garlic and you’ve only got two bulbs, it’s not going to be enough. And sadly for you, you’re clean out of wooden stakes. So do you just resign yourself to being a sacrificial lamb to the hot vampire who you work for? Perhaps you could fight him off? You did self defence classes for like three weeks and you once made Wonwoo’s nose bleed when you accidentally punched him fighting off a bee, you have some fighting skills.

“LET ME IN OR I WILL BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN.” Junhui gets tired of trying to be nice and shouts through the door instead.

Shit. He probably could too, why he hasn’t already is a mystery to you.

You gather your things, hoping they’ll at least ward him off for a few seconds and walk slowly to the door, your hands shaking and wondering how long it’ll take someone to find you. That’s if he even leaves any of you, maybe you’ll be so delicious that he’ll just eat every last bit of you. Do vampires even eat people? Or are they zombies? He’s surely not a zombie, not with that haircut.

“Stand back!” You’d have been proud of yourself for that if your voice hadn’t broken a little.

He doesn’t say anything but then what are you expecting him to even say? He’s going to kill you either way, all you’ve done by asking him to stand back is give him a little run up to the killing. Fucking idiot.

You open the door and hold your hands in the air, hoping your choice of repellents work at least a little.

But Junhui just stands there, eyes flitting between your hands and the traces of a smirk on his lips.

“What are you holding?”

“DON’T COME NEAR ME! I MEAN IT!!!!!” You waggle your hands at him frantically.

“_____,” he bites his lips to hide his smile, “the whole crucifix and garlic thing is bullshit.”

“SO, YOU ARE A VAMPIRE?!” You jump back, your arms still outstretched. Part of you was hoping he was going to say you’ve got an overactive imagination and he’s on some sort of detox that rich people do.  

“Can…” he looks around the empty hallway, “can we talk about this inside?”

Your arms fall to your sides, you didn’t prepare for this, you thought he’d pounce but he’s treating this more like a business meeting.

What’s the point in saying no? He’s a vampire, he won’t take no for an answer anyway, you’re lying to yourself if you think you have a single thread of authority in anything going on here.

“Ok, but only if you stay right by the door. I want a good six foot buffer zone,” you wave your arms around yourself, showing him exactly where he can’t go, “do not come in this buffer area.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says smoothly and walks into your apartment.

Damn for a man who drinks blood, he really does smell fantastic, it’s like cedar with a mix of rosemary. It’s otherworldly, like nothing you’ve ever smelt before. But now isn’t the time to falter, you have an actual vampire in your apartment, it really shouldn’t matter that he smells nice.

“What do you want?”

“What did you think those were going to do?” he gestures to what you’re holding.

“Well. Garlic,” you gesture to him like it’s a given that garlic would help you ward him off, “and,” you glance down at the book you’re holding, “I’m not religious so don’t have a crucifix or bible or anything, this is the closest I had.”

“You think Mr Tumnus is going to help you fight off a vampire?” he smirks.

“The Chronicles of Narnia are based on the Bible,” you falter a little when you realise how fucking ridiculous that sounds, “it might’ve helped.”

He has just admitted that he is a vampire though, so you haven’t really got time to worry about your choice in defensive books.

“If you’re going to kill me, I won’t make it easy. I've got lots of salt.”

“You’re going to make sure you’re perfectly seasoned?” He raises an intrigued brow at you.

Fuck. So, the whole salt thing is a myth then.

“Salt doesn’t work either?”

He shakes his head, fighting off a smile.

“Oh, well then I give in,” you throw yourself on the sofa, “if it helps, my emergency contact is down as Wonwoo because he’s my oldest friend in the city, but don’t call him tonight. He has puzzle club with the old men in the neighbourhood and he hates being disturbed. You think you’re scary, you haven’t been on the receiving end of one of his lectures.”

Why can’t you just shut your damn mouth? Always have to drone on and on when you’re in a panic, like bamboozling whoever is scaring you would stop them from hurting you.

“I don’t want to kill you ______,”

“Oh please, don’t use the whole I don’t want to do this, I need to do this. I’ve read Dracula.”

“No,” he sits on your coffee table, chuckling at the ancient copy of ‘The Chronicles of Narnia’ that you thought would help and very much ignoring your six foot buffer zone, “I don’t need to kill you either. I just need to know you won’t tell anyone.”

“Like anyone would believe me if I told them my boss was a vampire.”

“You seem quite calm considering you’ve just found out your boss is a vampire.” He narrows his eyes at you.

You’re not calm. You’ve no idea what you are. All you know is that you’re having to come to terms with the fact that not only do vampires appear to exist. But the boss you’ve been crushing on for god knows how long, is one.

“There’s not much I can do. You’ll either kill me or I’ll have to keep it secret. I’m not being sectioned because you’re a vampire.” You say indignantly, desperately trying to get some kind of upper hand here.

“I don’t want to kill you _____. I’ve said that. But I need to know you’ll keep this secret. If not, I have to move on and you’ll all lose your jobs.”

Oh great. So now the job of every person who works for one of the biggest publishers in the country, relies on your ability to keep a secret. Something which famously, you’re terrible at. You’ve told your mom every secret you’ve ever been told and Wonwoo seems to have some sort of sixth sense for when you’re hiding something. He’ll sniff it out before you even enter the office.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you sigh, leaning back into the sofa, “I can’t be responsible for everyone losing their jobs. But…..can I have those manuscripts back?”

“Why?” he smirks.

Shit. He’s already them. Or one of them at least.

“I didn’t know…..I wouldn’t have…..oh god,” you groan, ignoring the little laugh that comes from Junhui.

“You wouldn’t have brought a manuscript about a vampire to your boss that happens to be a vampire?”

“How did you read it already? It’s been like an hour?”

“I can read pretty quickly.” He shrugs like it’s nothing.

You should probably ask him to leave but you’re nothing if not nosey and if you’re never going to talk about this with him again, you want to ask him what life as a vampire is really like.

“Go on.” He smiles.

Can he? Oh fuck you hope he can’t read minds. He’s being very calm for someone that will have been subjected to some pretty explicit daydreams you’ve managed to conjure up, if he can read minds.

“Can you?” you ask quietly, “read minds?”

“No,” he snorts, “you just look like you have questions and to be honest, I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

“Thank god for that!” your eyes widen, “I mean not that I’ve been thinking of anything weird. You know, just worried about stranger danger I guess,” you trail off.

“Could I?” He gestures to the spot on the sofa next to you.

“Oh! Sure! Do you want a drink? Although….” What the hell do vampires drink? Thinking about it now, you’re not sure you ever have seen him drink, other than the blood he was drinking earlier.

“Any b negative?” you freeze on your way to the kitchen, “I was joking _____. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Mint tea?”

“Perfect.”

He stands up to take his jacket off and you desperately try not to think too much into the fact that you’re spending time in your apartment, with your hot boss who you’ve been pining after for ages. The fact he’s a vampire should make you want to run and bang on your neighbour’s door for help, but you feel oddly at ease with him. He doesn’t seem to mean any harm to you and the fact that if you told someone, he said his reaction would be to leave, rather than hurt you, shows he truly has no intentions of hurting you.

“Here you go,” you mumble as you hand him the steaming mug of tea and sit down on the sofa next to him.

“Thank you. You’ve quite the collection of books.” He smiles and nods over to your messy bookshelves which have far too many books than the old shelves should be holding.

“Hm,” you hum, swallowing your sip of tea, “I’m running out of space for them. I know everything is going digital and people say print is dying, but I don’t know. I just like having the physical copy, I like seeing what I’ve read and the characters I’ve known.”

You turn back to him, shocked to find a fond smile on his lips.

“What?”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself. That’s what I’m always trying to hammer home to the execs, people want the physical copies of books. I understand the ease of digital things, but I still think there’s hope for published books. It isn’t the write off they think it is.”

“Can I….Do you mind if I……”

“Ask me whatever you want ______.”

Even the way he says your name makes your body tingle and heart leap. You shouldn’t still be having this reaction to him now you know he’s basically a monster.

“How old are you?”

“1941 years old.”

“That would mean you were born in….” you try to work it out, “85? Like the year 85?”

“If you’re using the current way of counting, yes. Although I was born hundreds of years before that system came into practice, before that we just used the eras of the current rulers and things.”

“So,” You cross your legs and get comfy on the sofa facing him, not realising just how softly he’s looking at you, “where were you born? Like does that country still exist?”

“It’s still China.” He nods, “But it’s very different from when I was born there. If you’d have told four year old Junhui he’d be moving around the earth in a metal box he’d have never believed you. Or known what metal was.”

You can’t imagine what that must be like. To have seen history with your own eyes.

“Did you always live in China? Or did you just recently move?”

“Recently to you and recently to me are two very different things ______.”

“Right,” you nod, a little embarrassed.

“I’ve lived all over the world,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ve seen the fall of Rome, I saw people say ‘Oh Shakespeare? He’s just a phase, he’ll be forgotten in a few years’ and I’ve seen some of the worst things mankind has ever done. You tend to have to move around every few decades or so, people grow old and when you don’t,” he smiles, though you note it doesn’t seem quite as happy as he wants it to, “you need to move on, so you’re not caught out.”

“That must be lonely.”

You sip your tea and wait for an answer, but when you look at him, he’s just staring at you with an emotion you can’t quite make out.

“No-one, not that many people have ever found out about me, but no-one has ever said anything like that. Or even thought about how it must feel to live like I do. It’s not a bad thing!” He rushes to say when he sees you looking a little worried you’d said the wrong thing.

You just nod and go back to your tea.

“Do you like the Chronicles of Narnia?” He averts his eyes to your well-read copy on the coffee table.

“It was my favourite books growing up. I think I've read them all a hundred times.”

“You know,” he sips his tea like he’s saying something totally normal, “it was me that came up with the name for Aslan.”

“What?! You’re just making that up!”

“I’m not!” he laughs, putting his tea down and picking up your book, “I was studying at Oxford University, I met Clive,” you scoff at him casually calling the author of your favourite childhood book Clive, like he’s friends with him, “at a local pub by chance. I told him I was a literary scholar, and he told me about the book he was writing and how the main hero was a lion and what he represented. But he was struggling with a name, so I suggested Aslan. I’d recently been in Turkey and Aslan is Turkish for Lion. Anyway, Clive loved it and so, Aslan was born.”

You blink at him. For someone that always has so much to say, you’re utterly speechless.

“What was he going to be called before that?”

“Mr Lion.”

You throw your head back in laughter much to the joy of the vampire sat beside you.

“H-he,” you hiccup out another laugh, “he was going to call him Mr Lion?”

“Well he did have form for it. Those poor beavers never got names did they? Just Mr and Mrs Beaver.”

You freeze. He’s actually telling the truth. You thought with a response like Mr Lion, he was just joking to calm your nerves.

“You’re being serious?”

“Yes! I named Aslan!”

“That’s fucking wild.” You shake your head.

“I have a first edition, if you wanted to see it?”

“Really? I’d love that! I love old books, I’ve never dreamt of owning any, or even seeing any, but I love the history of them. How they’ve been passed down and where they’ve been to get where they are now.”

If you could read Junhui’s mind you’d know that for the first time in a very long time, possibly ever, he feels completely captivated by you. He’s had romances through his life and people he thought he loved, but he’d never told anyone else about his “condition”, and thankfully, he’d never been found out, except for a few close shaves.

Suddenly though, he’s in a situation where someone knows his secret and that someone just happens to be one of the most beautiful and endearing women he’s ever met in his long life on this earth. It’s selfish to indulge you, and he tells himself he’s only offering to show you because you seem so interested in it, but a part of him, quite a big part is selfishly doing this because he can’t help wanting to spend more time with you.

“I’ve collected quite a few interesting pieces over the years. I could pick you up tomorrow? That’s if you don’t mind coming to my place?”

“Oh.” You sit up, a little shocked. “I-I’d really like that. You don’t mind showing them to me?”

“_____, in this life I don’t get to show many people, or anyone, this part of my life. People would ask way too many questions about where I found these things. So it’d be nice to share them with someone, particularly someone who seems to hold the same reverence for these things as me.”

“Then, yes. I’d love to come to your place.”

“Perfect,” he finishes his tea and even heads to the kitchen to clean his mug, “I’ll pick you up at 10? Or is that too early?”

“No, that’s fine!” You say excitedly, showing him to your door.

“Great,” he pauses like he was going to hug you, but instead sends you a small smile and sort or taps your arm before he heads through your front door, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Bye.” You grin and wave him off.

As the door closes, your back hits it and you can’t help the huge grin on your face. You’re spending your Saturday with your hot boss, at his apartment no less. Fuck, finding out he’s an ancient vampire might’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

You’d slept pretty well for someone who’d just found out that her boss is a blood drinking vampire, but you put that down to the fact that in the excitement of the prospect of spending time with him, you’d somehow completely blocked out that he is, in fact, a vampire. And that just yesterday you walked into his office to find him casually drinking a glass full of blood.

But now you’re waiting for him to pick you up, having been ready to go for the past hour because your nerves were kicking your ass, and you can’t help but think how incredibly stupid you’ve been to get yourself into this situation. Sure, he didn’t seem like he meant you any harm. And surely if he was going to kill you, he’d have done it last night, it makes no sense to keep you alive and give you the opportunity to tell someone what you’d found out. But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t been frantically pacing your apartment since seven this morning and wondering whether this was all some kind of trap.

This could all be a ruse to lure you to his place and keep you there. Perhaps that what vampires do, they don’t kill people straight away, they do it slowly. He might be intending to just keep you locked away somewhere in his home and feast on your blood whenever the mood takes him. And yet. You still felt oddly safe being near him last night, he didn’t speak to you with any threat, he didn’t seem to want to threaten you at all. And, if it had been a date or something, you’d have been pretty pleased with how easily you both got on, the chat flowed freely and he’d even made you laugh. Which is better than the last three first dates you’ve been on.

You check your watch, it’s only been a minute since you’d last checked it but other than picking the skin near your thumb nail, a habit your mom said would get you into trouble one day, you haven’t got much else to do. Five minutes. Just another five minutes and he’ll be knocking on your door, and you’ll be going to an actual vampire’s house. That is, if he’s on time. But you’re certain vampires generally are on time, they just have that vibe around them that they’d probably be punctual. Not that you’ve met many vampires. Although you have now met one, which considerably more than most people.

A gentle knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts and you take a deep breath before you stand up. You’re excited, you can’t deny that, but it’s like the fear you feel before a first date has quadrupled because you have absolutely no idea what to expect from this. And it isn’t even that you can call it a date, he’s just asked you if you want to see his book collection because he never gets to share it with anyone. It’s more just your boss showing you something he knows you’ll like, rather than a first date with the potential for it to lead anywhere.

“Hi,” he says softly when you open the door.

“Hello”

You’re not sure why, but you were expecting him to be wearing a suit. He just always is in a suit. You certainly weren’t expecting the 1941 year old vampire to be sweats but you can’t say you’re mad about it. He looks warm. Like he’d give really great hugs and keep you safe. Shit you need to stop this, he is literally a vampire.

“Ready to go?”

“Sure,” you close your door and walk along the corridor with him towards the elevator.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” you ponder, “a lot better than you’d think I would after yesterday.”

“Panic only set in this morning?” he smiles. How the hell can he read you so well? It’s not like you’ve spent a huge amount of time with him and yet this is the second time that it feels like he knows what you’re thinking.

“Sort of,” you admit, “you don’t scare me, not really. I think my imagination is scaring me a lot more than you.”

“I swear to you, I don’t mean you any harm. And,” he presses the button to the elevator, “you can ask me whatever you want to, I don’t mind. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

You just smile softly and nod, both of you entering the elevator and heading down to his car. You have questions. You have a lot of questions, but you’re probably better off waiting until you’re in private. The last thing you need is for any nosey neighbours to hear you ask where he gets his blood from and if he actually feeds off real people.

When Junhui parks in the underground parking lot of a large, luxurious apartment complex, you can’t help but feel a little stupid. You heard vampire and just presumed an old, pretty scary, mansion in the woods. Not modern luxurious apartments in the most affluent part of the city. This goes to show that all your over thinking is pointless, you’ve no real idea of what to expect from all of this other than your boss has shown you nothing but kindness since you found out this secret and you’ve spent the whole morning making assumptions about how he lives. 

Before you can even open the door, Junhui has rushed around from the driver’s side of the car and opened it for you. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“My mother taught me manners and I’ve never forgotten them.” 

“Your mother taught you to open a car door for people?” You challenge, hoping he sees you’re joking. 

“Well,” he grins, ushering you towards a private elevator for the penthouse complex, “no, she taught me to always let ladies walk through doors first. But I’ve adapted with the times.” 

“Is your mother still alive? Is she…..like you?” 

He pauses as he presses the button to close the door to the elevator and you worry that you’ve been too forward. Of course he doesn’t want to tell you everything about his life, he was probably just saying you could ask anything to make you less panicked. 

“She died a long long time ago now. She wasn’t like me, she never knew I became like this.” 

“I’m sorry,” you play with your sleeves, “I shouldn’t have asked something so personal.” 

You try to avert your eyes, taking a particular interest in the ceiling off the elevator but he interrupts your feeble attempts to ignore the awkwardness. 

“I said you could ask me anything you wanted. And I rarely get a chance to even acknowledge what I am, let alone speak about it. I have to lie and say my parents are back home, or they died, or whatever my current story is for the last few decades I’m in any one place.” 

“That must be tough, living so many different lives.” You nod. You struggle with dealing with one life sometimes, let alone multiple. 

“It is,” the elevator bongs and he ushers you into a large entryway, “but it’s amazing in parts. I’ve seen and done things that most people with even the wildest imagination couldn’t dream up.” 

“Like naming legendary lions?” You smile at him, handing him your coat and him hanging it up with his. 

“Exactly.” He says proudly. 

It’s only when you wait for him to put a door code in that you realise just how big this place is, just the entry way is bigger than most apartments and it’s decorated beautifully. There are a couple of modern works of art on the walls and on either side of the door are large ornate vases that are about half your height. The only other thing is an old school coat stand and shoes rack, no doubt something he bought on his travels. If you asked him about them he’d probably say something ridiculous like they belonged to an old european monarch or something. So instead you just keep your mouth shut and will yourself not to fall for the seemingly perfect vampire who’s invited you over to look at his book collection. 

“Shoes.” He looks down at your feet like your mother would if you forgot to take your shoes off in your grandma’s house. 

“Oh!” You quickly launch your sneakers off your feet, “Sorry! Do you have those like foot cover things?” 

“This is my home _____, not a museum. I just don't like shoes in the house. You don't need foot protectors and you don’t need a full hazmat suit either.” he smirks. 

“I was just checking,” you grumble, taking an active interest in the vase near the door rather than his smug face. 

He opens the door and gestures for you to go through first, his mom’s manners still at the forefront, and you slowly walk into the apartment. It’s huge, open plan and designed like something out of an architecture magazine. The walls are simple, white and clean and numerous works of art and prints line the walls. A glass staircase leads up to the second floor and you’re certain it continues up to another level after that. You’re not surprised it’s grand, he’s been alive thousands of years, he must have amassed a huge amount of wealth with that. But on the whole it just feels……..

“You don’t like it?” He must’ve noticed your slight disappointment. 

“It’s just very……normal? I-I mean not normal,” you panic, “I just mean, it looks how I thought it would before I knew what you were. Not that I think you’re any different now, I’m not prejudiced ....”

“______. Although I think this little ramble is very cute,” fuck your cheeks must be bright pink at that, “I understand what you mean. You were expecting something out of a horror movie? Or some dark dungeon where the sunlight couldn’t get me?” 

“I guess,” you shrug, “is that whole no sunlight thing not true then?” 

“None of those old myths are true. Apart from the stake through the heart, that would kill anyone. It’s pointless anyway, I can move quicker than most people can think. It’d take a miracle to actually be in the position to run a stake through a vampire's heart.”

“How quick?” You narrow your eyes at him but before you can even finish your sentence he’s gone, “WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

You spin around trying to find him, just to hear a cough coming from above you. You look up to find Junhui leaning against a grand piano positioned in front of the large windows on the floor above you, looking very pleased with himself. 

“H-how? What? I didn’t even see you move!!” 

In the blink of an eye he’s back beside you and again, you’d hardly seen it. It was like when you walk into a room and a spider or mouse quickly darts into a safe place. You know you’ve seen something but you can’t be sure. 

“So you can see why the whole stake through the heart is tricky.” 

“Damn, there’s not much point in me taking my stake out of my bag then.” you sigh dramatically. 

“I don’t think you’d ever kill me.” He says happily, moving over to the kitchen. 

“Why?” You ask, following him and trying not to get distracted by the fact he seems to have every kitchen appliance of your dreams. 

“You just said you weren’t prejudiced. Like insulting a vampire for their stereotypes was the same as insulting any human for the stereotypes they may have about where they’re from or what they do. Nobody that kind would kill anyone.” 

“Thank you?” 

“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, “do you want a drink?” 

“It depends what it is.” 

Yes, you’re not prejudiced. But you’re entirely sure you could stomach seeing him drink blood without throwing up all over his kitchen. 

“Take your pick.” He says as he throws open the door to a fridge the size of your whole bedroom. Ok, maybe not that big but it is the biggest fridge you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Why do you have all this if you can’t have it?” You ask as you try to decide what the hell you want to drink. Which isn’t easy when he seems to be stocking more options than your local convenience store. 

“Who says I can’t have any of it?” 

“I saw you drinking blood Junhui…” Your eyes widen, “I mean Mr……”

“Junhui is fine.” He smiles fondly at you. “And you also saw me drinking mint tea.” 

“So you can eat and drink like a human? But you still need blood?” You settle on an orange juice and close the fridge door, trying not to look at how good he looks leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded. 

“Exactly,” he nods, “I can eat and drink whatever I want, but I need a little blood each day.” 

“Do you go to the toilet then?” 

Fuck. You didn’t mean to actually ask that. How fucking embarrasing. 

“Most people would be more interested in the blood,” he beams at you once he’s stopped laughing, “but yes, I go to the toilet.” 

“Good,” you nod, taking a sip of your orange juice and wishing your brain would develop at least some kind of filter, “and the blood? You don’t……I mean it’s none of my business if you do……but do you? Feed off people?” 

“No,” he says kindly, “There are only a handful of us left in the world. Luckily my friend Seungkwan works for one of the top hospitals in the country. We move together generally although we don't see each other much. He supplies us both with blood from the hospitals he works in. In the early days,” he sighs, gesturing for you to sit on one of the stools near him, “when I’d first been changed, I did feed on humans. I couldn’t help myself, I resented what I’d been turned into. I hated humans because I still longed to be one. But, after those first few years, I realised I couldn’t change what had happened to me. And a whole generation had passed, it wasn’t the fault of the humans any more than it was mine. And so I found new methods, now it’s simple to avoid feeding on humans.” 

“How did you become like this?” Now you’ve started, you want to know as much as possible about him. 

“When I was growing up, we didn’t really have legends of vampires. There were stories of the undead living off humans to survive but nothing of actual vampires. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was coming back from a night of drinking with my friends and before I knew what had happened, I was attacked. I think they meant to kill me, to feed off me completely, but something spooked them and they fled. I was unconscious for days because of the amount of blood they’d taken but there was enough of their DNA in me that I was fine. Better than fine, I felt unstoppable. But I hated what I’d become, I hated that they took my life from me.”

“How did you know you’d become a vampire though? If you’d never heard of them? You could’ve just gotten better?” 

“Seungkwan found me. If I’m honest I think it was him who stopped me being killed but he’d never admit that. He’s always hated vampires who use their power to cause fear or hurt people. He’d been hunting down the last truly evil vampire, the one who turned me, for years. It took him another century until he did finally stop him. But Seungkwan explained everything. And then he disappeared. If he hadn’t…..If he’d have guided me in those first few years. It might’ve saved the people I hurt.” 

“It’s not your fault you reacted like that. You can’t blame yourself for what you did because of something you never asked for. That’s not fair, Junhui.” 

He stares at you with an unreadable look on his face and you worry you’ve been too forward, acted too friendly or something when he is still your boss and you do barely know each other. It just feels so unjust though, for him to have never asked to be a vampire and it’s not like he could help the fact he needed blood to survive. It’s like holding it against a baby that they need milk or an adult human for needing water. He needed blood to survive. 

“Sorry. You don’t need me to tell you that.” 

“Actually,” he smiles, “I did. Thank you.” 

It feels like if you speak now, you’ll ruin the moment. But is it even a moment? You feel like it is, the way he’s staring into your soul feels like it is. But maybe this is just him, maybe he’s always been kind and reserved and you’re only just now getting to know him. 

“So,” you break eye contact, hoping that might stop your heart hammering, “there’s only two of you?” 

“No,” he shakes his head, his smile broadening, “there’s six vampires left in total. Me and Seungkwan tend to stick together. Joshua and Jeonghan keep to themselves mostly, they’re living somewhere in the south of France and spend their time lounging around their pool and sleeping with whoever they please, masking it all behind being wealthy art dealers. And then there’s Soonyoung and Pearl….” 

“Pearl?” You squint at him, confused by the sudden name change.

“Hm,” he hums, smiling to himself, “Soonyoung’s wife. She recently decided that a truly organic way of life is the way forward and now they live in a yurt somewhere in South America. Her name changes every few decades, she’s happy I suppose, and that’s all that matters. They went through a lot together, she got changed into a vampire by the same bastard who created me. It took Soonyoung years to convince her to change him. They’d been childhood sweet hearts and were only a week off getting married when she changed. She agreed eventually, but she hated doing it.” 

“It’s romantic,” 

“It’s barbaric,” He says harshly, “to willingly change the person you love, to sentence them to eternity. I understand why she did it but I don’t condone it. It’s like giving someone hundreds of life sentences.” 

“S-sorry.” You mumble, a little taken aback by how his attitude changed. 

You’re sorry you upset him but honestly, it doesn’t seem that bad. He’s seen all the wonders of the world, he’s lived through history and he seems to have done it all with people he would consider his friends. You’re struggling to see what could be so bad, other than the whole drinking blood thing. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes, “it’s just it seems great and everything but you’ve no idea how lonely it is. Sure you make friends but they either die or you have to move away before they realise they’re aging and you aren’t.”

“Did you never meet anyone you loved?” The idea leaves a sour taste on your tongue but you’re not expecting a man who is nearly two thousand years old to never have been in love. You’re only thirty and you’ve got more ex’s than you’d care to admit to. 

“I did,” he says somewhat shyly, “and it isn’t like I live like a nun, I sleep with people,” you try not to grimace at that admission, “but I always have to hold myself back, I can’t be myself around them and so it never lasts.” 

“You’ve never told any of them?” Why you feel a little smug about that, you don’t know. It’s not like he’s willingly told you, you literally walked in on him drinking blood. He could hardly deny it. 

“Nope,” he says standing up, “only you. Now, do you want to see all my cool stuff?” He says, raising his brows like he’s trying to entice you into something but all you’re trying to do is forget the ‘only you’ he tacked onto the end of his last answer, and tell yourself that it doesn’t make you special. 

“I’d love to” you recover. 

“Great, follow me.” 

“This is all,” you stare at the portrait of Junhui, standing beside who he tells you is DaVinci, “I don’t even know what to say.” 

You stare around the room in wonderment. The whole top floor of his penthouse is dedicated to everything he’s collected over the years. He had to put in about four sets of codes to open the door. Not that it looks peculiar from the outside, it looks like the top floor of any other fancy home would, perfectly painted walls, ornate furniture and large wooden doors. But it’s all just a facade, only one of the doors is real and behind the real one is treasures that you’d never thought you or anyone would ever see. 

So far he’s shown you Ernest Hemingway’s lost suitcase which he swears he had nothing to do with actually stealing, he just happened to be at a bar in Paris when the man who had stolen it was boasting about it and how that man had then very sadly lost it. When Junhui had tracked down Earnest, as he called him because obviously he seems to know everyone personally, Earnest had said he didn’t want it back, it added an air of mystery to his name that would help his name and works be remembered far more than just the literature he’d had published. And so he forgot Junhui had ever told him he’d found it and Junhui now holds one of the most looked for mysteries in modern literature. 

He has Shakespeare manuscripts, which apparently “Will” had given Junhui himself as thanks for helping him get home in time for his wife’s birthday. The way he spoke about him like he was just some friend that he’d lost touch with, chuckling to himself as he told you stories about how they’d meet up after performances and argue about which actor made the best Hamlet or whether the Globe was looking a bit shabby. 

Looking through his bookcases was like looking through history, like seeing every character you’ve ever loved and known in their earliest form. No editing or altering that may have happened over the years. Your bookcases when you get home will look pretty shit when you walk in and you’re confronted with your battered copies of all his treasures. 

“You’ve seen history. Like, you’ve seen words being created. Shakespeare invented almost 2000 words you know, or at least made them popular. And you were there, it’s just so……I don’t know…..big?” you look up at a bookshelf, eyes widening when you see what looks like an ancient, probably original written copy of Journey to The West. 

You’ve spent the past hour, when you weren’t listening to Junhui telling you the stories of his life, wandering round the large room like it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. And it is the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. But Junhui, he’s seen a lot of great things. But he thinks the greatest thing he’s ever seen in his whole long life is you in this room. The way you get excited when you spot something that you can’t believe you’re seeing, or the way your eyes widen every time he mentions someone in history that always sounded more like another book character than a real person. 

He’d always thought you were beautiful, your whole aura lights up even the most boring of meetings and on the few occasions he’d spoken to you, he thought you were completely endearing. He did wonder whether there was something going on between you and Wonwoo. But then he saw Wonwoo put you in a headlock one day when you were arguing over who got the last piece of the brownie you’d bought, and that put the end to that idea. There was nothing romantic in that headlock. Or the way you bit his arm to get out of it. It didn’t matter anyway. Junhui made the decision long ago that he would never start a relationship with anyone, too many people get hurt. And he knew if he started something with you, it wouldn’t and couldn’t be a one time thing like so many of the flings he’s had over the past few centuries. 

But then you caught him drinking blood and when he’d found you (having found your address by hacking the HR records he knows he shouldn’t have been looking in), the way you’d tried to fight him only warmed his heart. He saw your books, he felt how kind and warm you were with someone that you should’ve been scared of and he couldn’t help himself. He told himself this was just because he knew you’d appreciate everything he’d collected over the centuries, and that he was just excited to show someone everything, that wasn’t Seungkwan. Who had as much interest in this stuff as a bollard. 

But he was playing with fire. And he knew it. 

“He invented most of the words he’s credited for.” 

He waits for you to realise what he’s said. And like clock work you freeze and whip around to face him. 

“You didn’t invent words,” you scoff, “did you?” you ask slowly.  

“Radiance.” 

You stare at him. He invented a whole fucking word and he says it like it’s nothing? Sure, people have invented new terms before when new things are invented. But radiance is just an everyday word. Everyone knows it and everyone uses it. 

“You invented the word radiance?” 

“Mm-mm,” he nods, “Will wanted a word in All’s Well That Ends Well to describe the beauty of someone, and I thought about the fact it brings light when you’re around someone you love. Anyway, radius is Latin for beam. But you’re radius sounds almost insulting. So I suggested radiance and all’s well that ends well.” He shrugs, laughing at his own joke. 

“Who were you thinking of when you invented it?” It’s none of your business, you don’t know why you’re asking, but you can’t help wanting to know and your mouth moves quicker than your head. 

“No-one in particular. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who made me feel that way.”

“Didn’t?” You glance at his lips. 

“Yeah. Didn’t.” He glances down at yours. 

The air suddenly feels like you can’t breathe, there’s something drawing you to him even though you know you should be scared of him. But he must feel it too, he hasn’t moved away or broken the moment and yet neither of you move closer. It’s like you’re stuck in your place but wishing that he’d take the initiative and do what you want him to. You daren’t, you don’t know whether it would spark something fearsome in him. Although the idea of him biting you makes you weirdly excited but you try to push that thought to the back of your mind. 

The sound of the buzzer for his elevator breaks you out of the moment, both of you jumping at the sound and crashing back down to reality. 

“That’ll be the food,” he rushes off, “you take your time up here, I’ll get the food and plates. I’ll shout you when it’s all sorted.” 

“Ok.” you say quietly, watching his back as he rushes off out of the room. 

He felt it. You’re sure he did. But you don’t want to bring it up and ruin whatever this is and so you go back to pursuing his bookshelves. Every other find makes you more shocked than the last but you can’t shake what just happened and the moment you just shared. Because you are certain it was shared. It can’t have just been you that felt it. 

About ten minutes later and you hear him bellowing from two floors below you. Clearly he’s not just got it in him to be quick but also damn loud too. 

“That copy of To Kill A Mockingbird,” you start as you hop down the last two steps, feeling weirdly at home in this penthouse you’d never been in until today, “it’s not actually signed is it? Harper Lee barely signed any copies. If you were in Europe, how do you have a signed copy?” 

He beams at you from the sofa as you wander over, your stomach growling at the sight of the noodles he’d ordered. He’s set it up on the coffee table so you can both sit on the floor to eat just like you would at home. It’s pretty easy to forget he’s a blood drinking vampire when he acts like any other person you know. 

“I’ve lived in every country in the world at some point _____. And I met Harper when I was working at NASA. I went to Alabama to visit a friend, who happened to be friends with her and she was kind enough to sign a copy for me when I said I collected literature.” 

You gawk at him, the drink he’d poured you half way to your mouth. But to be perfectly honest, you’re just pleased you haven’t dropped it all over yourself. 

“N-nasa……..you met…..WHAT?!” 

He tries not to laugh at you, if he’s honest he just wants to squeeze your cheeks because you’re so fucking cute, but he doesn’t. 

“I was helping with the dimensions and initial plans for the rocket. Leonardo,” you huff at how he just references DaVinci like an old friend, “had a keen interest in aviation and he told me about some screw that could withstand high amounts of pressure, hundreds of years ago. I wrote to NASA, obviously not telling them where I'd learnt it, and they asked for my help for a month or so.” 

“I thought I was cool because I went to school with a girl who has ten million followers on Instagram but shit,” you lean back against his sofa staring at the noodles. 

“Hey, things change and what’s cool changes.” he shrugs, moving your noodles in front of you. 

“Oh please, I bet you don’t even know what Instagram is and working on a rocket that went to the moon beats followers every day of the week.” 

“I do know what it is, thank you very much,” he smiles as you both pick up your chopsticks, “and I will admit. The rocket is pretty cool.” 

“And yet you didn’t know lol when I put it in that email?” You challenge playfully. 

“Yeah, you did catch me off guard with that. How did you know?” 

“Oh!” Shit. You can’t tell him that a large part of your day is spent watching him. And another large part is spent fantasising about what you’d do if you ever found yourself alone with him, “I just happened to look over as you checked the email on your phone, that’s all.” 

You shove the noodles in your mouth as quickly as you can, trying to ignore how he seems to be watching you as you do, clearly not believing a word you said but he lets it go. 

“Did you see the Austen?” 

“Oh my god,” you wipe your mouth, hurriedly swallowing the food you were chewing, “yes! I can’t believe you have that! I never thought I’d see that, all three volumes of Pride and Prejudice. Well. First Impressions.” You pause, thinking about what you’ve just said, “if you’re about to tell me that it was you that made her change the name I think I will actually explode or something.” 

“I’m not,” he laughs, taking a sip of his drink, “but I did meet her once.”

“What was she like?” You ask excitedly.

“She was headstrong,” he nods fondly, “but. She was sad, mostly. She seemed like she never really got what she wanted in life, like she was living through the women in her stories. But she was kind and clever, and told Seungkwan to stop being so moody when his horse had eaten his hat, so she’ll always be a hero in my eyes.” 

“I’m pleased she was kind.” you sigh, “I always loved her books.I’m not sure I’d cope if I found out she was this awful human being that everyone hated,” 

“Do you know who was a weirdo?” 

“Who?” you ask, like he’s about to tell you some juicy gossip. 

“Mary Shelley. Have you ever heard the story of…….”

“That she lost her virginity on her mother’s grave. Yeah, I've heard it but it can’t be……” Your words trail off when you see his face. “NO?!” 

“Yep,” he nods, like he hates talking about it but loves it at the same time, “it’s true.”

“It wasn’t……you?” 

“NO!!” He looks horrified, “It was Percy! Thank god they married each other. Pair of odd bods.” he shivers like the memory of them disgusts him. 

“What the hell possessed them to do that?” You grimace. 

“Fuck knows but they were pretty proud of it. He was married at the time too. Which in my opinion just makes it all so much worse. Those two caused chaos.”

“You don’t have Frankenstein then?” You chuckle, going back to your noodles. 

“Oh I do, it’s a first edition, signed and everything. But it’s right up at the top where I don’t have to see it and be reminded of how much she scared me.” 

“A vampire? Scared of a normal woman?” 

“She was weird ok!” He laughs defensively. 

You eat pretty quietly after that. Both of you quite content in each other’s company. The rest of the day is spent looking through more of his collection, him showing you coins and little treasures from every country and era he’s lived through, even describing exactly what it was like when they finally finished the great wall of China after centuries of work. But you don’t remember much after he awkwardly asked you if you wanted to watch a film, neither of you wanting to say goodbye just yet, because you fell asleep. Not a care in the world for the fact that you’d managed to well and truly fluster Junhui, when your head landed on his shoulder, for the first time in almost two thousand years. 

The sound of pots and pans clanging around stir you awake from an absolutely bizarre dream in which you had to stop Wonwoo from fleeing with Jane Austen because she’d already said she’d marry you, even though gay marriage was hundreds of years off being made legal. It had ended pretty abruptly when presumably Junhui had moved a pan pretty heavily. But in your dream you’d pushed Wonwoo in front of a moving carriage because there was no well in hell he was taking your girlfriend. 

You’ve no idea how and when you made it into this overly comfortable bed but you admit you’re in no rush to get out of it. Even in your clothes you’d arrived in yesterday, it’s still the most comfortable you think you’ve ever been in your whole life. But the smell of bacon draws you from your need to stay in the cocoon you’ve made for yourself and you begrudgingly get out of the bed.

Before you can even start to worry about the fact you’re imposing on his hospitality, not that you’d intentionally fallen asleep on him and presumably, if he was uncomfortable, he’d have woken you up and said it was time for you to go, you find a set of folded clothes, a note and even some toiletries. 

Good morning! Or good night, depending on when you wake up. When you’re ready, I’ll cook us some breakfast. I’ve left some comfy clothes and some stuff to freshen up with (if you want to of course). Hope you slept well. 

Junhui

Fuck, you really want to not read too much into the fact he’s lending you clothes and he doesn’t seem mad that you’d taken up one of his spare rooms, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel all giggly because he seems quite happy to have you here. 

You shower and brush your teeth with what he's left you, not surprised that he’s left you only the best products on the market and quickly dry your hair once you’re in his sweat pants and t-shirt, noting that the t-shirt reads ‘I love books and I tolerate you’, and rush down the stairs. You get the impression you could spend years with Junhui and still not know everything about his life but damn you’ve enjoyed getting to know him. And even when he asked about your life, he seemed genuinely interested, like what you were telling him wasn’t the same old story he’s probably heard a thousand times before. 

It takes you a second to get your bearings but you find the stairs pretty quickly and speed down them, slowing slightly at the bottom then he doesn’t think you’re over eager. You find him in the kitchen, where you presumed he was from the smell of bacon and clattering of pans, this time in shorts and hoody and once again looking like he’d give the best, most snuggly hugs. Not what most people would think of if they were spending time with a vampire but there’s just something about Junhui that seems to scream comfort to you. 

“Good morning.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a little nervous. 

“Hey!” He smiles, spinning round with the pan, “I hope I didn’t wake you. All these years on the planet and I’ve still not mastered cooking really. Many have tried but I’ve still burnt the bacon.” he frowns into the pan. 

“It’s fine. I like crispy bacon,” you grin at him, sitting on one of the stools when he tells you to sit down and it shouldn’t be long, “thank you for leaving these clothes out. And I’m sorry I fell asleep, I hope I’m not intruding. I will be out of your hair soon and I’ll wash these and bring them to work tomorrow.” You say happily, pouring yourself some apple juice he’d decanted into a jug.” 

“Are you in a rush to get home?” He winces when rather dark bacon lands on the plate in front of you.

“Not really,” you shrug, “but I’m sure you have plans and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“I do have plans,” he mumbles as he sits down next to you, “but I wondered if you wanted to come with me?” 

“Sure.” you say, trying to eat the bacon without him noticing just how hard it is to chew. 

“You don’t want to ask what we’re doing?” He jokes. 

Shit. Now he thinks you’re over eager. But do you even care? You like him, he seems to like you, why shouldn’t you show him that you enjoy spending time with him? 

“Sorry, sure, what were your plans?” 

“There’s an exhibition of ancient Chinese literature at one of the galleries, I was hoping to check it out.” 

“Compare your ancient Chinese literature with theirs?” You smirk knowingly. 

“Exactly. And we could get dinner? If you’re not bored of me of course.” 

“Junhui, I think if I found the hot vampire boss boring, then there’s no hope for me.” 

You go back to buttering a slice of toast before you even realise what you’ve just said but when you do, your horror stricken eyes meet his wide smile. 

“I-I didn’t mean…….wait no I’m not saying you’re not hot……oh god” you groan, hiding your head in your arm. 

“Hey, I’ll take it. It’s not every day a sexy older woman calls you hot.” 

You drop your toast. One because Junhui just called you sexy. But mainly because, what the hell does he mean ‘older woman'?! 

“Older woman? You’re almost two thousand years old!” 

“Yeah but when I was changed I was only 28. So technically you’re a cougar.” 

“That would suggest this is something more than friends?” 

He freezes, like he hadn’t thought this through but you just put that down to the fact that he’s not used to this. He said he’s only used to one night stands and things, maybe the beginnings of a relationship are odd to him after all this time. 

“You done?” He stands up, taking his plate over to the dishwasher. 

“I am,” you smile happily following him over and helping him clean up, “could we stop by my place so I can get changed?” 

“You don’t want to go out in my t-shirt?” he smirks at you, “I’m insulted _____.” 

You giggle, like joking and eating breakfast with Junhui is the most natural thing in the world. You could get used to this, and now you’ve made it clear that you like him, and he seems to like you too all you feel is excitement for what’s to come. The day passes in a blur of laughter and Junhui being very smug that some of the “ancient relics” were actually reprints that no-one has noticed, before you have dinner under the stars at an open top restaurant and he drops you home. Now having the courage to hug you, not just awkwardly pat your arm like he did two days prior. And you go to sleep full of happiness and excitement for this flourishing relationship. 

For the past month you’ve spent every weekend with Junhui. Even at the office you message each other and on a couple of occasions he’s eaten lunch with you and Wonwoo. They both discovered they have a shared interest in comic books and you started to worry that Junhui would kick you to the curb and decide Wonwoo was the one for him. 

Wonwoo nearly fell to his knees and proposed when he visited Junhui’s apartment one night after work and he saw he has every edition of his favourite series. Junhui hasn’t told him he’s a vampire and thankfully the comic books are in his TV room, so Wonwoo just thinks the top floor is more bedrooms and has no idea that Junhui is hoarding some of the world’s greatest treasures up there. You're certain Wonwoo genuinely wouldn't care if Junhui casually told him he was a vampire, he's the most laid back man you've ever met. It’d be a quick “cool, about those comic books" and he'd never mention it again. 

But up until you Junhui had never told anyone. And he only told you because he had to. So you don't want to push it. 

You did worry that you were spending too much time with him, that you were over staying your welcome whenever you went over to his place. But it was almost like he was actively finding reasons for you to stay and, most of the time, he was messaging you first and finding more and more reasons to talk to you. Not that you minded. You could spend every waking second of the day with him and never get bored. 

But there was one thing that was playing on your mind. You didn’t know what this all was. It felt like the beginnings of a relationship, at times it felt like it was a relationship, he would always make sure you’d eaten and wish you good morning or good night, you felt like you were going on dates. 

They definitely felt like dates. But then he’d never even held your hand or made any attempt to kiss you or anything. Though you’re certain he wants more, every time you find yourself saying goodbye to each other, he spends more time looking at your lips than he does looking you in the eye. It cannot just be friends. You can't have gotten it so wrong that he thinks this is just friendship. 

It’s annoying you but you’re trying to be understanding. There’s presumably so many different things he has to think about to even be around humans the way he is. He must always feel a constant urge to bite, to taste blood and you don’t want to make that worse for him. And so at the moment you’re content to just see where this goes, you love spending time with him and he seems to love spending time with you, what more do you even need right now? 

A message flashes up on your screen as you’re editing, the sight of Vernon’s name making your stomach drop.

Vernon: OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH FUN 

You: What are you talking about? I’ve told you Vernon, I’m not getting high with you 

Vernon: Not that. The book retreat!! I can’t believe you agreed to it, honestly your bosses seemed dubious but Junhui just told me!! Thank you for saying yes, me and my creative juices need this. Fuck three months in Peru!!!! Get packing bestie!!!!!!

You stare at your screen. What the fuck is he talking about? He’s high. He must be. Because there’s no way the company would allow that long an extension for him or his juices. And three months? Away from home? And what the hell is in Peru that’s going to make him write anymore than his creative trip to Thailand or Alaska. 

This whole thing seems like bullshit but the one thing that’s making it worse? “Junhui just told me”. Does he agree with this? He wants you gone for three months? But you were just sat daydreaming about the date he has planned for the weekend. He was going to take you to see some gardens that he’d found years ago that have the rarest flowers in Asia. And yet now you find out he’s shipping you off to Peru? 

This isn’t right. Before you can even re-read the messages again to make sure what you’ve read is right, you’re carried through the office on a wave of anger and hurt, and within seconds you’re knocking on the door to Junhui’s office. You don’t even wait for him to say come in, what’s the point, it’s not like you can find him doing anything worse than the last time walked into his office. 

You find him reading through a manuscript but he puts it down pretty quickly when he sees you. 

“Hey! I didn’t hear you knock, sorry I was miles away in this……”

“I knocked.” You interrupt, not liking him insinuating that you hadn’t. 

“I didn’t say you didn’t knock _____.” He frowns, he's never seen you pissed off. It doesn't suit and he doesn't know what he's done to cause it, but he hates it. 

“You’re sending me away?”

Junhui stands up, not having realised Vernon would open his big mouth already. 

“I’m not sending you. Vernon asked could you go with him, he said he needed you to keep him out of trouble.” 

“So you’re sending me away?” You press again. 

“_____ this is your job.” He sighs, walking around his desk and leaning against it in front of you. 

“He’s been on hundreds of writer’s retreats and I’ve never had to go then! Why do I have to go now? I’d be gone for three months! You’d be ok with that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be ok with that?” 

You stare at him, the only thing you feel is your heart cracking and your finger frantically picking the skin near your thumb nail, because at the moment, it’s the only thing reminding you that this isn’t all a nightmare. And sadly is your reality. 

“Because we’re…….we’re,” you want to say because we’re a couple but now you just feel fucking stupid for even letting yourself think that. 

“We’re friends _____. Friends can go three months without seeing each other.” 

“Friends? We call everything over the past month being friends?!” 

“Nothing’s happened between us _____. I’ve never given any inclination that it was more.” He says it kindly, too kindly. Like he’s rehearsed this or something. 

But all you feel is panic. You can’t have gotten this so wrong? You know what you felt and you know that he felt it too! You’ve seen him speak to multiple women in this office, he never talks to their fucking lips, he doesn’t even spend time with them more than he actually has to. 

But then has all this just been because you know about him? That you’re the only person who’s ever found out he’s a vampire and he’s felt like he had to be kind to you to make sure you didn’t tell anyone? He’s just been tolerating you because he didn’t want you to blow his secret. It cannot be that. You can't fake how happy he was when you were together. 

“That’s not true,” you say quietly, staring anywhere but at him, though maybe if you did you’d see the pain in his eyes, “I know what I feel Junhui. Has this all been a lie? You don’t even like spending time with me?” You look at him, his heart breaking when he sees tears welling in your eyes. 

“I do like spending time with you _____. Like I would any other friend. STOP DOING THAT!” He makes you jump when his voice suddenly raises and there’s an anger in it you didn’t think you’d ever hear from him. 

You glance down at where his eyes are fixed but all that’s there is your hand. You weren’t doing anything to warrant that outburst. 

“So you want me to go? For three months?” You ignore his anger and demand an answer. 

“I want you to do your job,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “he needs to get this novel finished and you’re going with him. End of discussion.” 

“You can’t just do that! You’d throw this away, you’d…….”

But before you can finish your sentence you feel like all the air has been knocked out of you as your back hits the office wall, Junhui painfully close to you caging you in. You say Junhui, this isn’t your Junhui, it’s not the man that two weeks ago tried to make you cupcakes and failed spectacularly. 

No, this Junhui could only be described as a monster. His face is so close to yours but you feel no warmth, his breath is like ice and when you focus on his face, your blood turns as cold as he is. His eyes are blood red, almost shimmering in their sockets, his skin pale and with fangs that send a wave of horror through your body. 

His breath is ragged and even though you try to wiggle out of his hold, whimpering slightly at how the man you thought you were falling for has turned into something from your nightmares, he stops you, his body rigid against yours like a tonne weight, not a normal man. 

“J-junhui, please,” you whimper, trying to push him off but he just stays staring at you like you’re his next victim, “you said you d-didn’t do this. This i-isn’t you Junhui.” 

“You don’t know who I am,” he spits, no care in his voice, not like there used to be, “I told you to stop fucking doing that, why can’t you listen?!” 

You glance down at your hand, every inch of your skin prickling and yet a numbness over takes you when you see what he's talking about. 

Blood. 

Your blood. 

Where you’d been frantically picking at the skin near your thumb, a habit your mom always said you should stop and now it’s going to be the thing that drives Junhui to do something he hasn’t done in centuries. You get the sudden urge to run, to bolt out of this office and never look back and yet it’s like your feet are cemented to the spot. It’s not like you could move anyway, he’s got you trapped. 

He’s got you trapped as blood trickles down your thumb and you get the impression that he’s not going to be able to hold back much longer. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry softly, trying to wipe your thumb on your skirt, “I didn’t m-mean to. Please Junhui, this is me, it’s _____, you can’t do this. You haven't hurt anyone in years! You said you regretted ever hurting anyone!”

“But they,” he takes a deep breath, almost thriving off the scent of your fresh blood, causing you to whimper and try to cling to the wall, “didn’t walk in here demanding things and not doing as they were told.” 

The way he’s speaking, the way he’s leering at you, it’s like being in the worst horror film you’ve seen. Only normally when Wonwoo makes you watch those, you can cover your eyes and pretend you’re not there. But you are here. And you can’t get away from the monster in front of you. 

“I-I didn’t demand. I got it wrong, I was wrong. I’ll go to Peru. I’ll go wherever you want me to. Just please Junhui, let me go.” You plead, tears streaming and body shaking. 

“You’ve ruined everything you know,” he hisses with his head in your neck, his lips just millimeters away from him getting everything he needs and you never taking another breath, “I was happy. Or as happy as I could be and then you,” his teeth graze your skin, “you come barging in here and fuck my life up. And now you try to tell me this isn’t me?” his teeth stop, the tips of fangs weighing on your skin, “This is why you shouldn’t be here. I can’t be in a relationship, I can’t give you what you think you want, this is me _____. This is my reality the second I let you in too far and you suddenly hurt yourself or fall and graze your knee. This,” his teeth scrape down your skin as you sob and try to lean away from him, “is the reality of your life if you don’t fucking leave me alone.” 

You can’t even speak, your breathing is heavy, your body is quivering in fear. It would only take a second and he’d taste you, he’d kill you. 

“Get out, get out of the office. Out of the fucking building. Just don’t come back in before you leave with Vernon.” 

He turns away from you and your heart breaks. You caused this. He told you to stop and you didn’t. 

“I-I’m sorry Junhui, please………”

“GET OUT!!!”

You flinch and rush off out of the office. Ignoring the confused stares from your co-workers and how Wonwoo is already making his way over to you. You just grab your coat and bag and sprint out of the building not even able to decide if you’re more hurt by him dismissing the past month or relieved that you’ve managed to get away from him before he did something that he’d regret and you wouldn’t have survived. 

Junhui can’t concentrate. Even with heightened senses and rocket-like reflexes, he’s been reading the same manuscript for three days and not a single word is making any sense to him. He’s never felt like this, sure he’s probably felt like this but if he has, he doesn’t remember it. He’s had hundreds of people in his life die, it’s just the circle of life, people are born and people die. When his mother died, he was distraught but even that didn’t feel like this. She was old and it was her time and although it broke him, he could make sense of it. 

But he can’t make sense of what he’s feeling at the moment. 

It’s been three days since he told you to leave the office and not come back until you’d been away with Vernon. And for three days he’s felt pain like he’s never felt before. His chest aches and he hasn't eaten, even Seungkwan dropped by yesterday when Junhui hadn’t been to collect his usual supply of blood. Seungkwan was expecting a lot of things when he made it to Junhui’s apartment but his friend of almost two thousand years, crying and watching sad movies was definitely not one of them. He told him everything, poured his heart out and Seungkwan’s response? “You’re a fucking idiot.” 

But that’s easy for him to say, he seems to be able to have relationships for a few years and then carry on like nothing ever happened. Junhui couldn’t do that. Not with you. In the month you’d be in his life fully, not just as an employee, he’d fallen in love with you. He knew he had because he’d never felt like this in his life. He just wanted to be around you all the time, the sound of your laugh made even his cold heart warm and when you talked about what you loved, it just made him hope that one day, you’d look like that when you spoke about him too. 

A week ago he nearly kissed you. You’d been at his place, not even doing anything exciting, just sitting on his sofa, your feet tucked under his leg as you both sat reading. He’d noticed you had a habit of telling him the little excerpts of what you were reading that had made you laugh or meant something to you and, in his opinion, that was one of the most intimate things you could do. To want to share even the smallest of things that made you feel even the smallest emotion showed him just how much you cared about his opinion but also showing him that you want him to see what’s important to you, even if it’s the littlest of things. 

The sun setting behind you as you giggled quoting the line of your book, you just looked so radiant that it took everything in him to not throw caution to the wind and finally kiss you, just like he’d wanted to do when you were trying to fight him off with The Chronicles of Narnia. 

But that night served as a warning. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let himself be tempted no matter how much he felt like he needed you. How would he go on for eternity when you’d gone? He wasn’t scared of stopping loving you when you grew old, he knew he’d love you no matter how old you got, you’d still be you. But what would happen to Junhui? Once he’d given you everything and he had to go on forever knowing his one true love would never be with him again. 

So when Vernon was moaning about writing retreats he saw an opportunity to get you away from him for a while. The idea hurt him, it is hurting him, but it would hurt more in the long run and it would give you a chance to meet someone else, to live your life without having to deal with everything that comes with him being a vampire. You deserved to live and to be happy and he knew at some point, he’d end up hurting you. 

Though he’s not sure any of that would even matter anymore, you’d surely never want to see him again even after you’ve come back in a few months time. The fear in your eyes when you saw the worst side of him will stay with him forever more, the tears and way you flinched away from him broke him. He’s not even sure why his reaction was so visceral. He can be around blood, over the centuries he’s perfected his self restraint meaning that he can be around even the worst injuries. But that one small tear on your skin triggered something in him that he hasn’t experienced in over a thousand years. Seungkwan said it was probably how the mixture of needing to send you away, the reality of sending you away and how the confusion he was feeling at loving someone, truly loving someone, was playing with his emotions. That one drop of blood was the straw that broke the camel’s back and the end result was him terrifying the last person on earth he’d want to hurt. 

You’d tried to call him. Though he’s no idea why. He’s no idea why you even said sorry to him before you ran out of his office. It was him who should’ve been apologising, not you.

A knock on his office door shakes him from his thoughts and for a few hopeful seconds he thinks it’s you, that you’ve resorted to barging into his office again just like last time because he’s ignoring your calls. But who is he kidding? You won’t want to be in the same room as him again. Not now. 

“Come in!” He didn’t think anyone was left in the office, let alone needing to speak to him. 

“What the fuck have you done to her?!” 

“Wonwoo? What? Done to who?” Junhui stands up and marches round his desk as Wonwoo storms into his office. 

“Oh come on, you know who. Last time I saw her she was running out of here, crying and fucking terrified! And now she won’t answer her phone, she won’t open her door. That isn’t _____!! What the fuck did you do?! I swear if you’ve hurt so much as a hair on her head, I’ll fucking kill you!!”

“I wouldn’t hurt her!” 

Wonwoo scoffs, so close to Junhui that he can feel his breath against his skin, fists clenched like he’s ready to fight. 

“Oh so it’s just a coincidence that she runs out of your office and now she won’t talk to anyone? You’ve done something. I know you have. I really thought you were better than this, all those fucking months she’s been hoping something would happen and you’ve broken her!!”

So you’d liked him longer than he even knew? Fuck that just makes him feel even worse. You liked him and even when you found out the worst secret you could, it still didn’t change your opinion on him. All it does is confirm you’re everything he thought you were and more, to not let even something like what’s wrong with him affect your opinion of him, just shows what a remarkable woman you are. He just hopes Wonwoo isn’t right. He hopes he hasn’t broken you. 

He racks his brain for how to get out of this but all he can think to do is tell the truth. It would mean telling someone else and someone else knowing his secret, another chance that his life as he knows it would come crashing down. But Wonwoo isn’t going to let this go and the last thing he needs is someone saying he in some way is a man who would harm a woman, or anyone for that matter. 

“Sit down.” 

“Fuck off. What did you do to my friend?!” 

“Wonwoo!! Sit. Down.” 

Wonwoo must sense some sort of danger in Junhui’s eyes because he actually does as he’s told and sits down. For once in his life. 

“I don’t know how to start.” Junhui sighs, hoping the ceiling might have some answers. 

“I don’t care where you start, just get to the part where you hurt _____ and then I can try and fix it.”

“When she came to show me the manuscripts that you’d mentioned in the meeting…..”

“That was ages ago,” Wonwoo interrupts angrily, “I want to know what’s happened now!”

“You will! Just listen to me! Please!” 

Wonwoo just glares, his arms folded and waiting to hear what any of this could have to do with what’s wrong with you. 

“When she came in, I didn’t hear her knocking. When she found me I was,” he sighs, knowing with every admission of what he is, he risks a little more of his safety, “I was drinking blood.” 

Wonwoo just stares at him and Junhui wonders if he actually said it out loud. It sounded like he said it outloud. But Junhui imagined a lot of reactions. Wonwoo just having a blank face was not one of them and it’s unsettling him to be honest. 

“Did you…..”

“I heard you,” Wonwoo booms with nothing but disdain, “what does that have to do with what happened three days ago?” 

“You’re not going to ask why I was drinking it?” 

“To be honest, I don’t give a flying fuck. I want to know what it has to do with _____.” 

“I’m a vampire.” He says bluntly. 

“Well I would hope so if you’re drinking blood. At least it means you’re not a weirdo.” 

Junhui just stares at him. How can one man be so indifferent to finding out that not only do vampires exist, his boss and new found friend is one? Junhui could only dream of being that easy going. You’d told him that Wonwoo was a chill guy. But there’s being a chill guy and then whatever the fuck Wonwoo is.

“That’s all you have to say?” 

“What do you want me to say? I don’t care what you are, man, I just want to know what’s happened to my best friend!” 

“I said she needed to go with Vernon for three months to Peru.”

“As what? Punishment for her finding out? You only started hanging out after she found out, why has something happened now?”

“Fuck, it’s better starting from the beginning,” Junhui sighs, throwing himself on the sofa next to Wonwoo, “she ran off when she saw me and when I got to her place, she tried to fight me off with garlic and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.” Junhui smiles fondly at the memory. 

“That woman,” Wonwoo shakes his head with a look of either disdain or disbelief, possibly a mixture of both Junhui thinks, “she has no fight or flight skills. She did self defence for like two weeks and decided she’d just negotiate out of a dangerous situation and that fighting wasn’t for her.” 

Junhui can’t help but smile to himself, even through the pain. He can imagine you in the classes, deciding there and then that it wasn’t for you, even remembering how you’d tried to negotiate a safety buffer between the two of you when he’d first entered your apartment. Fuck he’s way too down bad for you. This is all too much. 

“Even after she found out, after the initial shock, she still managed to empathise with what it must be like, to be two thousand years old and everything that comes with it.” 

“Huh,” Wonwoo huffs, glaring out the corner of his eye. 

“What” Junhui frowns.  

“Two thousand, it’s just not that impressive,” he shrugs, “I thought you’d be older.”

Junhui blinks at him. If he’s honest he’s pretty fucking pissed that out of the two people he’s told, one had messed with his heart more than anyone ever has and the other has basically just said that he’s disappointing! 

“But that doesn’t explain what happened the other day, unless…….Did you try to bite her?!”

“No! I mean, fuck!” he wipes his face his hands, “I love her. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone but I can’t be with her, I can’t ruin her life and I can’t live for an eternity without her, when she’s gone. So I acted like we were just friends, even when she was trying to tell me it was more and that she couldn’t be away for three months. I thought hurting her now was better than hurting her more later on. But she kept picking her fucking thumb even when I told her to stop and she made it bleed and I lost control. For the first time in centuries I wanted to bite someone. I didn’t. But I wanted to. And she saw me how I never wanted her to, I was seconds away from biting her Wonwoo.” 

“But you didn’t?” He needs to check and Junhui gets that. 

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, “but I scared her, she was fucking trembling and pleading and still all I wanted to do was bite her.”

“If you love her, could you not just turn her into what you are?” 

“You think it’s that easy?” Junhui looks at Wonwoo incredulously, “I’d be taking away her life Wonwoo, I’d be sentencing her to a life never ending.” 

“But,” Wonwoo frowns, “surely if you have a life of eternity together then it’s not so bad. Plus you could turn me too, I’m a hoot!” 

For the first time in days, Junhui laughs a little. Not a lot. But a little is better than nothing. It passes too quickly though, the reality of what turning someone into a vampire actually means, stopping any small amount of joy he might feel even for the briefest moment. 

“It’s like murder Wonwoo. I haven’t fed off people since I was four hundred or so years old. I wouldn’t even know if I could stop once I’d started. I couldn’t cope with that, if I couldn’t help myself and I ended up losing her.” 

“So your solution was to send her away for three months? What was that even going to achieve Junhui?” 

“She might’ve met someone,” Junhui shrugs, not even believing what he’s saying. 

“You’ve met _____,” Wonwoo looks at him dubiously, “she isn’t the kind of person to just fall out of love with someone. She loves with her whole heart and she’s been wanting you for a lot longer than you know. If her finding out this,” he gestures his hands at Junhui, “didn’t scare her off, why would being away from you for three months do anything?” 

“It was the only thing I could think of. I can’t do it Wonwoo. To her or me.”

“Fucking idiot.” He scoffs and shakes his head. 

Junhui just wishes people would see what he’s trying to say, why the fuck does everyone think its so easy?! To just take the life out of someone?! 

“You know it’s not tha……….” But Wonwoo’s phone ringing cuts him off. 

“Hello?” 

Wonwoo’s face changes from indifference to horror and Junhui is immediately filled with a feeling of dread. Because if Wonwoo shows so much indifference when being confronted with an actual vampire, nothing good could’ve gotten that reaction from him. 

“Come on,” he rushes when he hangs up his phone and runs to the office door. 

“Why?” 

“It’s _____. Just hurry the fuck up, we need to get to the hospital now.”

To say your head is throbbing would be an understatement, it feels like someone’s using your head as a bass drum and you’re not even sure you can open your eyes. But the sound of someone repeatedly saying your name makes you panic, had you drunkenly called Wonwoo? Perhaps keeping your eyes closed would be the better option, you don’t need one of his lectures about how he wasn’t put on this earth to be your nurse maid. Something he refuses to listen to when he has a cold and you insist on giving him the same speech. 

You don’t even remember coming back from the store, you remember going to the store. You’d just finished packing for three long months in the depths of hell with Vernon and decided what the fuck, you don’t have anything to do for the two days until you have to leave. You were going to get drunk, watch Twilight and berate Bella for even going near a vampire, but then at least her vampire admitted his feelings. Perhaps if you find a nice werewolf, he might be more inclined to not try and gaslight you into thinking that you’re just friends. 

All you want to do is stew in your hangover and yet some prick just will not stop saying your name……..

“______ can you hear me?! Fuck, where the hell is that doctor?!” 

Doctor? For a hangover. That seems somewhat extreme, even for a drinking lightweight like you. 

“Wh…..” you try to speak but even trying makes your head hurt, “Jun……” What are you thinking of? Of course it’s not Junhui, that’s just your fantasies talking. 

“Oh that’s very nice,” 

You know that voice. You’d sadly know Wonwoo’s voice anywhere but you just can’t seem to come round enough to give him a piece of your mind. 

“_____? Can you hear me?” 

That is a voice you don’t recognise. What the hell has Wonwoo done? He’s surely not invited a group of people round to deal with your drunken ass?

“_____ try to open your eyes for me.” Well that seems to be easier said than done, because it feels like your eyelids are being weighed down by bricks. “Take it slow and open them,”

You don’t know who this demanding ass is but can he not see you’re trying to open your eyes?! Fucking bossy. God knows where Wonwoo has found him but he can damn well leave your apartment as soon as you can hurl yourself out of bed. 

You manage to open them, the lights far brighter than you remember your bedroom lights being. And in fact you don’t remember your ceiling looking like the one you’re blinking into focus at all. 

A massive head looms over you and you flinch, the last face you had so close was that of a monster that up until a few days ago you’d have sworn you loved. Though you’re still fairly certain you do. Hence the need to drink and shout at Bella Swan to get as far away from Edward as possible. 

“Can you hear me?” 

Why is this man treating you like you’re an idiot? 

“Obviously.” You rasp and hear Wonwoo snort. But when you try to move your head and glare at him, it feels like you’ve been surgically attached to whatever you’re lying on. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I’m not twelve,” you croak out, your voice sounding much weaker than you remember. 

To his credit, the man looming over you chuckles, but holds his hand up again. 

“I’m a doctor. You’ve been unconscious for two days, could you help me out and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” 

Unconscious?! And for two days?! Fuck you need to find Vernon, you need to catch your flight. Or maybe you have caught your flight, perhaps Vernon had finally persuaded you to get high with him and now you’ve embarrassingly over done it and this nice Peruvian doctor is trying to help you. But then why would Wonwoo be here? If they’ve made him come and get you all the way from Peru, you’ll never here the fucking end of it. 

“Three.” 

“Good. I’m just going to shine a light in your eye, if you could follow my finger for me?” 

You do as he says, hoping the quicker he’s done, the quicker you can find out what the hell happened. 

“Do you remember what happened?” 

“I went to the convenience store down the street and now I’m here. Wherever here is.” You say slowly, barely even hearing yourself from how hoarse your voice is.

“Ok,” he nods, looking you over, “we’ve done scans and we don’t think there’s any lasting damage. We were a little worried about your hearing but clearly, that’s fine. We need to keep you in for a couple more days and then you’ll need constant supervision for a week or so after that. But if you have no problems whilst you’re still here, I’ll be happy to discharge you in two days..” 

“What happened though?” You try to sit up, but note once again that you can’t.

“Oh,” the doctor leans towards you, “you have a neck brace on, as I say you don’t have any lasting damage and no broken bones so if you can promise to make no sudden movements, I can take that off.”

“Take it off please.” You can’t stand feeling like you’re trapped. 

“No problem,” he gently undoes it, “do you want the bed up a little?” 

“Please,” 

He presses the button on your bed and you slowly rise. But it’s as you’re edging further up, the room coming into view, you feel like someone's knocked all the air out of your lungs and you’d actually rather be lowered back down again. The last person you need to see is him. Dealing with Wonwoo will be bad enough. 

“Do I have to sit up?” you try to ignore the two men sitting looking panicked, “I think actually I’d be better fully reclined,” you try to reach for the button but your arm feels like lead and you just wince, “don’t you think I’d be better lying down? Perhaps some sedatives to knock me out again? My head feels like it’s been hit by a bus.” 

“It was a car.” Wonwoo says as he marches over to you, looking more pissed than you’ve ever seen him, “Don’t you ever fucking worry me like that again!” 

He launches himself around you, your whole body aching from the impact of it and all you can do is pat his back gently, never having had a hug from Wonwoo. Apart from when his childhood cat died but he’d insisted that wasn’t a hug, it was just he needed a little help standing up. 

“This is weird.” you mumble, still awkwardly patting his back. 

“I don’t care. I thought you were dead, you moron.” 

“Charming.” It's only then though that you realise what he said, “wait, I was hit by a car? I wasn’t drunk?”

“Why would you be drunk?” He pulls back, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“I was going to the convenience store. I was going to watch a film and get drunk,” 

“Very classy.” He smirks, perching on the side of your bed. “You must’ve been on your way there though, you didn’t have anything with you as far as the paramedics were aware. The guy was speeding, the cops have arrested him but you don’t have to worry about that now. We came straight here when the emergency room called.”

“We?” 

“Er,” Wonwoo stands up and shows you that the other man sitting in the corner of the room wasn’t a figment of your imagination. “Yeah, I was in Junhui’s office when I got the call. We both came straight here.” 

“Why are you here?” You try to say it like his presence doesn’t bother you, like the last time you’d seen him hadn’t broken your heart. 

“I wanted to check if you were ok.” 

Hearing his voice makes you feel like it’s repairing a little of your broken body, just by how much comfort it brings you. But he said you were wrong, that this was all one sided and so you will yourself to stay strong. 

“Well I am. You can go now.” 

“_____.” Wonwoo says softly, “he’s not even been home since we got here two days ago. Even when I went to change and shower at home, he stayed with you.”

“I don’t care Wonwoo. You wouldn’t get it.”

“I know he’s a vampire.” He says bluntly.

You stare at him, your head now not only throbbing, but spinning. 

“H-how? I mean,” you panic remembering the doctor who definitely shouldn’t be hearing this, “h-he doesn’t mean vampire. He’s not well, he’s a bit odd really, he just makes things up for……..”

“You don’t have to cover for him or Junhui. I’m Seungkwan.” He offers you his hand to shake. 

And you do shake his hand, not that you can speak, your expression is more like a fish than anything else. Your mouth opening and closing with no clue of what to say now you’re confronted with yet another vampire. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Good.” You say stupidly, your brain really not firing on all cylinders, and thankfully Seungkwan just chuckles and takes a seat next to Junhui. 

“How do you know he's a vampire?” You rush to ask. 

“I went to ask……”

“Demand.” Junhui interrupts, smirking a little at the glare Wonwoo sends him. 

“I went to ask what the hell had happened to you. He was the last one who’d seen you and you looked so upset when you left the office that day. And you’re so fucking stubborn, there’s no way you didn’t hear me banging on your door.” He scolds you. 

“I wanted some alone time,” you sniff, “am I not allowed that?” 

“You don’t have to cover for me. They both know what happened, how I lost control.” Junhui interrupts. 

“I don’t care about you losing control. And I don’t want you here. I have enough friends, I don’t need another one.” The recollection of him telling you that this whole thing had been nothing more than friendship still leaves a sting in your heart and him being here just makes you feel fucking stupid all over again. 

“_____ please,”

“I don’t understand why you’re here. Friends can go three months without seeing each other,” you try to mimic his voice even though yours is still croaky, “why even bother coming to the hospital?” 

“Because I thought I’d lost you!” He stands up, voice pleading and tears threatening to fall. 

“Have I shown you my espresso machine in my office Wonwoo?” Seungkwan gets up from his seat quickly. 

“Er,” Wonwoo looks between you and Junhui, “no! But I’d love to see it! I love coffee!”

“Don’t you dare!” You try to shout after him as they both rush to the door, “Wonwoo come back here! You can’t just leave me like this!” 

But it’s no use. They’ve gone. So much for caring about you, if they know how he lost control then it’s pretty shitty behaviour to leave your bruised body in his care. Though you’re not scared of him, not really. He couldn’t help his reaction to the blood and even though, yes you were terrified when you got home, that subsided pretty quickly. The only thing you really felt was embarrassed that he clearly didn’t feel the same as you. That you’d thought it safe that you were both on the same page and instead he just fobbed you off with that friends bullshit. 

“I won’t hurt you.” 

“Not physically maybe.” You try to avoid looking at him. “I’m alive. You can ease whatever guilty conscience you might’ve had and go home.” 

“I’m sorry for what happened.”

You just hum and nod, not looking at him and sniffling as tears start to cascade slowly down your cheeks. 

“I’m not normally like that around blood, I can normally control myself.” 

“So this is somehow my blood’s fault?!” 

“What? No! I was just trying to say that doesn’t normally happen, I’m not a……threat….like that, I guess.” 

“I never thought you were. And I still don’t. So you can go. Tell Vernon I’ll get the first flight I can.” 

“I’ve already sent someone else with him, not that he really needs anyone,”

“Right,” you scoff, “now I’ll be no trouble from my death bed, he conveniently doesn’t need anyone to babysit him.” You try to fold your arms but everything aches, which just makes you want to cry even more. 

“I hate seeing you cry.” He says it before he can even stop himself, you can tell that much from the way he slightly panics that he’s said it. He’s always so certain in what he says, something you suppose comes from years of simply being alive and knowledge that comes with that.  

“I’m trying not to.” You sniffle, trying to remain stoic but failing miserably. 

This feels like the worst break up you’ve ever been through and yet it’s completely one sided according to him, just a friendship that technically doesn’t have to end. But you couldn’t keep spending time with him, every second you’ve already spent with him has taken a little of your heart as the clock ticked by. It would just hurt too much. You know it would. 

“Please just go Junhui. I feel humiliated enough as it is and now I’ve literally been hit by a car, I don’t think I could get any more pathetic.” You pick at a stray piece of cotton on the blanket covering you, hoping he’ll just go quietly. 

“I can’t,” he looks almost sheepish and you narrow your eyes at him, “you’re staying at my place for the week you need to be supervised.” 

“WHAT?!” You try to sit up but your woozy head stops you and before you know it Junhui has you in his arms and he’s making sure you settle back on the bed. “You can’t,” you try to get your breath because somehow moving even the smallest amount has winded you, “you can’t just decide that.”

“I didn’t. Not on my own anyway. I mean, I suggested it and Seungkwan and Wonwoo agreed.” 

“Oh well you should’ve said that sooner! You’ll let me know who I need to vote for in the next election and how you’d like me to have my hair cut won’t you! Chauvinistic shit heads.” You huff. 

He scowls at you but you don’t care. How dare they just make decisions for you! 

“Wonwoo says that Mingyu?” he checks the name of Wonwoo’s roommate with you, you begrudgingly nodding, “has taken up DJing so you couldn’t go there, him blasting music is hardly going to help a head injury. All your other friends, he said you’d hate staying with. And I’m told,” he smirks a little, “that you’d throw a fit if we told you that you had to go and stay with your parents.”

“No, I'm not having them fussing over me. Once they had me, they’d never let me leave. I love them but they would hyperventilate at the idea of having their baby back home, as they’d say. No.” You shake your head adamantly, ignoring the way it hurts, “I can’t go there.” 

“Then sadly, the only option is my place.” 

“Sadly? Fuck,” you huff sadly, “just let me go home. I’ll call Wonwoo if there’s any problems.” 

“No,” he rushes to correct you, “I didn’t mean sadly for me. I meant for you. It was my idea for you to come to my place, even before Wonwoo gave us other options.” 

“But you’ll be at work anyway. I may as well just go home. And I don’t want to be around you.”

You ignore the way his face drops at that. 

“I swear I don’t usually lose control like that _____!” 

“I don’t care if you show your fangs or threaten to bite me, I don’t give a fuck about that. I like you Junhui,” there’s no sense of beating about the bush, not in the circumstances, “and I think you know I do. And I get that you don’t see me as more than a friend but I don’t think I can be around you knowing that this whole thing has been so one sided. I was certain, so certain you felt the same and I feel like an idiot.” Your voice gets quieter as you trail off, your stomach in knots of embarrassment. 

Junhui just wants to shake you and tell you that you’re like no woman he’s ever met, that he thinks, no he knows, you’re the love of his life. It’s breaking him that you think he doesn’t feel the same as you, but it’s the safest option for both of you. He knows it is. 

“We don’t really have an option. You need someone to watch you, I’ve already told the office I won’t be in and I’ll stay out of your way if you want. I’ll give you a bell or something to ring in emergencies but other than that, I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Or I could just go home.” You press again. 

“Seungkwan won’t discharge you if he thinks you’ll be on your own. So unless you want to stay in the hospital, where I’ll be staying anyway if you’re here,” he says sternly, “then you’re staying at my place.” 

“Fucking ridiculous.” You turn away and miss Junhui’s little smile when he realises you’ve given up the fight and he’ll be able to make sure you’re safe and cared for. Much to your disgust.

You knew you could be stubborn. In fact you were certain there were few people in this world more stubborn than you. But it turns out there is someone much more stubborn than you. Junhui. Because no matter how much you ignored him and no matter how much you pleaded with Wonwoo and even Seungkwan, who you didn’t even know, to come and stay at your place, then you wouldn’t need to go to Junhui’s, he still refused to leave your bedside. Even when he had to use the bathroom, he used the one supplied in your private room (the perks of knowing one of the top doctors in the hospital is a vampire) and whenever it came to food, he’d already ordered something to be delivered to the hospital. 

Wonwoo would turn up around the time the food had been delivered and you all ate together like one big, slightly dysfunctional family. Junhui would try to talk to you, you’d insist on talking passively aggressively through Wonwoo who would then try and ignore you, and Seungkwan would simply sit and enjoy the drama of it all. 

But now you’re two days into your stay at Junhui’s penthouse and your resolve is crumbling along with your heart. Because he truly is the most caring man you’ve ever met. Each morning before you wake up he creeps into your room and leaves your pain medication and a glass of water by your bed, makes sure you’ve got clean perfectly folded clothes to put on, takes your worn clothes and puts them in the laundry and he even brushed and dried your hair when it was too much for you to do. Even though you’d declared to him that you didn’t want his help and you’d happily got to bed with wet hair, he refused to leave the room until he knew it was done and you had no risk of catching a cold by going to bed with your hair wet. 

He told you he’d stay out of your way and it seems he meant it. Because after he’s made sure you have everything you need and you’re safe, he heads to his home office and you don’t see him again until it’s time for your next meal or round of medication. 

Which you guess is what you wanted. You told him you wanted nothing to do with him. But he’s so close and you find yourself pining for his attention, that you know he’d willingly give you if you hadn’t repeatedly told him you didn’t want him near you. It’s like there’s an invisible string between you, that you know isn’t broken, it’s holding on by a thread but it's not broken, and that’s what's making it so hard for you now. 

By your third day at his apartment, you decide to swallow your pride and head to find him. You’re allowed to get out of bed, you’re not ill, but you just can’t do anything strenuous. Although, maybe putting your bruised ego to the side for the sake of being near the man you love would be classed as doing something somewhat strenuous. 

You wander down the stairs, smiling at the slightly messy kitchen where he’d been trying to make you eggs this morning and move towards his office rehearsing what you’re going to say. Perhaps you could say you need something to read? But that won’t work, he’d left a pile of books by your bed along with his iPad in case there was anything you wanted to watch on it. He’d literally thought of everything you might need during your stay, proving once again that he’s nothing like the monster you saw the last time that you were in his actual office at work.  

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realise you’ve been standing in his office doorway for a good thirty seconds until his worried voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

“Is everything ok?” He panics, you never having actively sought him out in the three days you’ve been here. 

“Er, yeah. I’m….” he looks you over like he’s worried you’re in pain or something, “I’m lonely?”

“Oh,” he stands up straight, looking round for his phone, “do you want me to call Wonwoo? Or someone else?” 

Fuck you feel horrible. You’ve made it so clear you don’t want him near you that now he doesn’t even think you would possibly mean that you want to spend time with him. 

“No,” you shake your head, your voice quiet, “I could’ve just rung him myself. I wondered…..well I wondered if you wanted to watch a movie or something? Of course if you’re busy it’s fine.”

“I’d er,” he scratches his neck, “I’d like that. But before that……something came in yesterday that I had been meaning to show you. I had it shipped from my storage unit in Europe before we…..well before everything happened. I didn’t show you yesterday because I didn’t want to overstep but now you’re here, I’d really like to show you.” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s upstairs. I could show you now?” He asks softly, like he doesn’t want to make a mistake and scare you off. 

You just nod and follow him quietly up the stairs. In the time you’ve spent together you’d never really had a quiet moment, from the second he entered your world it was like you both wanted to tell each other everything about your lives, no matter how big or small it was. And now there’s a void and you still don’t truly understand what caused it. One second it was the fine and the next he was sending you away. 

He punches the codes in and you feel a warm feeling washes over, like being back in this room full of treasures somehow feels like home. It isn’t even the artefacts and tomes that make you feel that way, it’s being surrounded by Junhui’s life, everything that he treasures, just makes you feel closer to him than you could ever dream to be. 

He leads you over to the large table in the centre of the room, papers scattered over it but a large metal box and book stand catch your eye. 

“Please,” he gestures to the chair next to the one he’s just sat in, “sit down.” 

“What is it?” You stare at the metal box as you sit next to him, not noticing how Junhui moves his chair just a little closer to yours. 

“I’ve had these for about nine hundred years, it took me centuries to track them down but I finally did. I don’t look at them often because I don’t want to risk anything happening to them. But I wanted you to see them, she,” he smiles at the box, “she reminds me of you a little.” 

“Who?” You narrow your eyes at him. 

“You’ll see.” he smiles softly. 

He opens the large metal box and you peer inside. You were expecting something large or impressive from the size of the box, maybe even a small bust of whoever it is that reminds him of you. But it’s just papers. Well. Parchments, ancient ones, but parchments none the less. 

“Parcements?” You ask, confused how “she” can be on parchment paper. 

“Have you ever heard of Sappho?” He smiles at the parchments as he gently takes them out of the box and places them on the book stand. 

You rack your brain but short of a few short mentions at university, you really couldn’t say you’d heard of her. 

“Vaguely,” you shake your head, marvelling at how old the pieces look in front of you, “but not really.” 

He just nods, sending you another gentle smile and looks at the parchments you’re already lost in. 

“She was a poet in Ancient Greece, hardly any of her writing survives, there’s probably about a hundred museums that would shoot me to get hold of these,” he chuckles, “but I always found her to be the most fascinating of all the ancient writers or poets.” 

“Why?” You frown, wondering how she can be so much better than any of the ancient greats everyone in the world has heard of. 

“Well, she’s a woman for one. Which in those times was unheard of for great poets or writers. But,” he sighs, leaning back in his seat, watching you and not looking at one of his most priced possessions. “She didn’t rely on myths or legends for her work. She lived in the real world, she wrote about love and feelings and what it was like to be passionately in love. By all accounts she was one of the strongest, most determined women of her time too.”

You stare at the parchment, you can’t read it, the writing is completely foreign to you but that doesn’t matter. The writing in front of you was by a woman in Ancient Greece. This parchment predates the whole modern era. Junhui had shown you a lot of things that would be considered old by anyone’s standards but this? Well this is on a completely different level to anything you could’ve ever dreamed of seeing with your own eyes. 

“But?” You turn to him, dragging your eyes away from Sappho’s writing, “Why does she remind you of me?” 

He doesn’t look at you, he now takes your place in staring at the parchment. 

“She broke the mold. She lived a life of love and without prejudice. You know,” he smiles sadly, “she was married to a man who she loved with her whole heart and yet still explored the idea of being attracted to women in her poems. I’m not saying you are obviously, not that it’d matter if you were” he corrects himself, “but she didn’t hold prejudice against those who were attracted to the same sex. She didn’t hold prejudice against anyone from what I’m told, she was accepting and understanding. For a woman to be so forward thinking and to be heard was so underheard of,” he shakes his head completely lost in his own thoughts, “I guess you sort of reminded me of that. You found out about me, most people would have called me a freak or monster, and you were so accepting, so ready to give me a chance and see past what I am. Even in the hospital, although I’d already asked for these to be shipped, I don’t even think you realised you did it but even after I treated you so terribly, you still tried to cover for me when Wonwoo just blurted out that I’m a vampire.” 

“Thank……” But you don’t get a chance to finish, it seems Junhui is so lost in thoughts that his subconscious is free flowing and nowhere near stopping. 

“And if anything,” he smiles sadly as Sappho’s lost poems, “you remind me even more of her now. These poems, they’re about love. About how you feel when you’re in love, how your heart races, how you feel like you’re almost falling ill with something when you’re around the person you love so violently that your heart hurts. She celebrated love.” He nods to himself, “And she was brave enough to celebrate love. In all forms. No matter who it was. And that’s what you did, that day in my office when I tried to send you away. You were brave enough, just like Sappho, to stand there and tell me I was wrong and that you knew it was something way stronger than friendship.” A stray tear falls down his cheek as you desperately try to keep your composure, “You’re just like her. You’re strong and you’re a trailblazer who I’ve no doubt could run that company if they’d just let you. But you’re caring, you’re so willing to love, and love fully that you stood there in a room full of coldness and told a vampire that he was wrong to dismiss what was happening as friendship.” 

Your heart is in your throat, feeling just how he’s just told you Sappho felt about love. 

“A-are,” you swallow, trying to blink away tears, “are you saying I was right? That it wasn’t one sided?” 

“I’ve lived almost two thousand years on this earth _____,” his eyes slowly find yours, “and I never felt this pull to someone. The need to be around someone all the time. I’ve loved people,” he nods, choosing to be honest, “but I’ve never felt like this. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was saving you by sending you away. But all I was doing was being fucking selfish.” 

“What do you mean?” You frown, wanting to hold his hand but choosing to stay still, you don’t want to unsettle him further. 

“I told myself it was for you. Because I’m a danger to you. But me denying my feelings was the only thing that put you in danger. Seungkwan thinks that’s what caused me to turn on you,” he clarifies, “the mixture of feelings I’d never had before and then that one drop of blood tipped it over the edge.”

“But how does that make you selfish?” 

“If we did this. If we had a relationship. You’d grow old, it’s just the way the world is,” he shrugs, “and I don’t doubt I’d love you till your dying breath. I’d want you till your dying breath no matter how old you got. But what do I do then? When you’ve gone? I’d have to live for the rest of eternity knowing that I’d never see you again. Even if afterlives exist, I never die, I’d never see you there. I couldn’t cope with that _____. I couldn’t live knowing that I’d known the love of my life but only had her for a fraction of it.” 

Your tears fall freely, his admission both fixing and breaking your heart all over again. He loves you, just as much as you love him. Or probably more. You’ve only lived thirty years and never left like this, he’s lived for thousands and says the same thing. Something you can’t quite get your head around but makes you feel more loved than you ever have. You know what you want to say, you want to say that he’s being ridiculous and he could simply change you. Which you know is reckless and ill thought out but you want nothing more than to spend an eternity with him. 

“Does it not hurt more to throw it away when you know you have at least a chance to be with someone you love, even for a short time? If you walked away from this now, you’d always have what ifs, for the rest of time. If you gave us a chance, you’d have memories of the happy times at least? Surely that’s better?” 

He stares at you, eyes shining from tears. 

“I can’t throw it away now.” He tries to take a deep breath in a bid to stop his tears, “Even if you told me to fuck off, I don’t think I could. When Wonwoo got that phone call. I couldn’t cope, I couldn't leave you. I couldn’t lose you without you knowing that I love you with my whole heart. And when you came round all I could think about was how I didn’t want to waste a single second of your life on trying to push you away and ignore what you were brave enough to say was happening here all along.”

“So you’re saying?” You ask quietly. He’s been pretty clear but this is still the same man who told you that he’d never shown you any inclination it was more than friendship, he can’t blame you for checking. 

“I’m saying,” he sniffles, wiping his cheek, “if you want to. I want to be with you. I want to know what it feels like to be in love. To freely love just like Sappho did. How you tried to before I stopped you.”

Your breath hitches with tears. Thank fuck you went to his office. 

“I’d like that,” You smile through your tears, “I’d like that a lot.” 

He reaches forward, his fingers gently moving your hair behind your ear and eyes searching yours. 

“Thank you,” he whispers as his lips meet yours for the first time. 

They’re cold, not like any other kiss that you’ve ever experienced but yet there’s a heat that comes with it, like kissing the person you love more than anyone is making you feel warmer than you ever have. It’s slow and heavy, like he’s showing you he’s got all the time in the world to love you. Your hands move to hold his cheeks and deepen the kiss but Junhui seems to be one stop ahead of you, he pulls you chair even closer and more or less pulls you onto him so you’re straddling his legs, your lips never stopping as you get your first proper taste of him. His tongue is warm unlike his lips and you can’t help but hold each other closer as your tongues explore each other’s mouths. You already know that you could never get bored of this feeling and thankfully Junhui has no intention of letting you go now he’s got you. 

He does break the kiss though, smiling as he leans his forehand against yours, his hands holding your waist. 

“I didn’t mean to do it like this. But once again you led the way when you came into my office. I’ve been sitting at that desk for days trying to figure out how to tell you.” 

“I think Ancient Greek poetry was a pretty impressive way to declare you love me to be honest.” You tease, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Being a vampire has some perks,” he smiles at you, his fingers drawing patterns on your waist. “I meant what I said though. You’re like no-one I’ve ever met and I can’t promise we won’t have our struggles but knowing we’ll face them together means the world to me. And I need you to know that what happened that day in my office hasn’t happened in centuries and I hope it’ll never happen again. I’m fine around blood normally I swear.” 

“I figured,” you shrug, “my period started yesterday and I’m still alive.” 

The way you feel his laughter as well as see it sends a thrill through you. You’d always said Junhui was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen but now you need to correct that. Because Junhui laughing whilst he holds you close to him is definitely the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. In this room full of treasures, he’s definitely the most precious you’ve had the honour to see. 

The rest of your time spent recuperating at Junhui’s place passed by in a wave of him fussing over you trying to do too much every time you tried to put him out of his cooking misery, and gentle touches and promises of how you’d never let anything like this happen again. When he felt like it was all getting too much, or he felt like he was going to lose his cool, he’d tell you and you could find a way to work through it. 

He also made it quite clear that he knew your period was starting the day before it actually started, apparently he can smell the change in your hormones or something and when it started, he could smell the blood. Something which made you panic that the smell was bad or in some way problematic for him. But he quickly put an end to that spiral though by asking did you think you were the only woman on her period he’d ever been around, which you suppose makes sense, he must sense every woman in the office’s period you suppose. 

As the days passed, you just fell even more for your vampire boyfriend. He’d shyly asked you if you wanted to stay in his room with him, rather than his spare room. Neither of you were ready for anything more to happen than kissing or just simply holding each other, but he just wanted you close and you felt exactly the same way. On the first night in his room, he said he wanted to read you something. You presumed it was going to be some kind of romantic poem or excerpt from another lost ancient writer. But instead he confidently stood in front of the bed and began dramatically reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe to you, strange voices for all of the characters and everything. 

It was only after he’d finished reading the first three chapters that he threw himself onto the bed with you and said that he just wanted to hear your laugh. That almost week of not hearing it, he said, had been the worst time of his life and he just wanted to hear it properly, before you both spent your first night holding each other. Something that made you want to giggle and kick your feet, but you remained composed. Sort of. 

The whole time staying at his apartment felt like a dream and you’d think being back in your own apartment would feel like crashing back down to earth. And yet, it doesn’t. Because even as he helped you get settled back at your place, constantly saying that if you didn’t feel ready then he’d happily let you stay at his as long as you wanted, you knew that you’d never feel as low as you did when you ran out of the office. You had your whole future to look forward to and there was no sense in rushing things. You knew you loved each other and that was more than enough. 

Two years later. 

“It’s just a taste really, I don’t think you’d even really register any difference as long as you’ve had your blood for the day.” Seungkwan says casually as he fills up all your glasses. 

“Just a taste?” Junhui scoffs at you, Seungkwan and Wonwoo as you all nod knowingly, “Why are you two nodding? Neither of you are vampires!” 

“Because I’ve listened to Seungkwan and he knows these things.” You say, like Seungkwan is the wisest person you’ve ever met. “And Wonwoo has also listened. He’s great at listening, why do you think his ears are so big?” 

“Hey fuck you!”

“You won’t be saying that to me when I’m a vampire.” You say matter of factly. 

“And you won’t be becoming one if you use your advantage like that.” 

You gawk at your boyfriend, disgusted that he’d say that to you, particularly in front of Wonwoo who’s looking more smug than you’ve ever seen him. 

“I mean it _____,” Junhui says, taking a sip of his drink, “I’m already going against everything I believe in, if you’re going to use it over people, I won’t do it.” 

“He’s not people, he’s Wonwoo,” you say, like it’s obvious. “And you know I’m not like that. We’ve been through this.” 

“I know,” he sighs, scratching his eyebrow, “I’m just……..I still don’t know if I should do it. Maybe we should get Joshua to come over and do it. He’s the oldest. He’s turned people before. We could call him and he’ll be on a flight before we know it.” 

“NO!” You interrupt, making Seungkwan jump and drop his food off his chopsticks, “I don’t want someone else to bite me. I want you to do it.” 

“Oh this is disgusting, do I have to be here for this?” Wonwoo asks Seungkwan. 

“Yes. You need to hear this as much as _____. You’re the one who’s insistent you want to become one too.”

“Childish.” You mumble to Wonwoo. 

“Why should you get to see everything in the future and not me?” 

“Because I fell in love with a vampire,” you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I think you’ll find he loves me just as much. I’m like your brother, aren’t I Junhui?” He looks at your boyfriend hopefully, Junhui looking slightly panicked. 

“I wouldn’t object to having you around.” He concedes much to your disgust. The last thing Wonwoo needs is his ego boosting. 

“Oh well why don’t you spend eternity with him then,” you throw your napkin on the table dramatically, all of them knowing you’re joking. You’re too excited to be truly angry. 

“Because,” he leans towards you, “I fell in love with you and you’ve somehow become so important that I can’t imagine any future without you. So sadly, you’re going to be stuck with me. Forever.” 

“Dis-gusting.” Wonwoo says flatly as Junhui peppers tiny kisses on your lips and you giggle into them. 

“So it’s just a taste,” Seungkwan carries on once he’s given your sickly pda enough time to come to an end, “you need to take enough blood that her blood sort of panics, in simple terms, her body needs to panic and take on your dna to keep itself alive. It’s a fine line and it’ll be quick, a bite and you only need a couple of mouth fulls for it to be done. Anymore and…….”

“Anymore,” Junhui interrupts, “and I kill the love of my life.” 

The table falls quiet at that. 

About a month ago when you turned 32, you brought up the subject of Junhui changing you, you wanted him to do it and you wanted him to do it whilst you still looked like you. It may be vain but you don’t want to be an old lady and he finally decides to do it. 

It wasn’t a shock to him and to be honest, he’d been thinking about the same thing. Your two years together had shown you two things, that you loved each other like you didn’t think was possible and that Junhui was going to struggle to go on once you’d left this world. You’d gotten the impression he was thinking about it when he spent hours talking to Pearl and Soonyoung on the phone. They’re the only other vampires alive that had been through this and you couldn’t see any other reason that he’d be talking to them so much more than normal. 

You hadn’t gone into it blindly. You knew you’d have to distance yourself from your parents a little as you got older but Junhui said with skincare and things the way they are now, you could probably get away with not cutting them out completely. They wouldn’t really be able to tell you weren’t aging all that much. And you’d have to move around every few decades but that didn’t matter, as long as you were together. You couldn’t see any logical reason for him to not turn you. 

Junhui had resisted doing it himself, even when he’d gotten his head around the fact that in taking your mortal life, he was giving you both an eternal life together. He’d stopped seeing it as murder, like he’d spent a lot of his life doing, because he knew that you’d still be you. You’d still have the same personality, the same looks, even the same preferences in food and literature, you’d just have reflexes like the speed of light and everything else that came with being a vampire. 

Seungkwan and Junhui had been meticulous in their research and planning for the days after he’d turned you. They found enough evidence to suggest that if they doubled the amount of blood that they both have daily, your thirst should be satiated enough that you won’t have the urge to bite anybody. They’d both taken two weeks off work and they were going to monitor you, gradually allowing you near more and more people the more your body adjusted to the change, until you were able to function normally in society just like them. 

It didn’t stop Junhui’s worries though but you loved that he was up front about them. He didn’t want to hide any part of himself from you and that included the uncomfortable truth, that the main thing he was scared of was killing you. It wasn’t that he didn’t drink enough blood daily, it was more that he hasn’t had that thrill of fresh blood from the source in centuries. And, if their research is anything to go by, the blood of someone you love tastes even sweeter than that of any other human being. He knew he could resist, he’d realised in your time together that you’re one of the clumsiest people he’s ever met, he’s cleaned up cuts and grazes and never had an issue. But drinking it? When you’re willingly giving it? He was scared. And you all knew it. 

“You’ve got this Junhui. I know you have. As you do it, just think of the fact that you never have to say goodbye, that if you don’t stop when you need to, you lose everything. That should be all you need to not lose yourself.” Seungkwan says kindly. 

“And let's not forget _____’s self defence classes, she’ll fight you off.” Wonwoo jokes, knowing exactly how to bring everyone back from worrying. 

“Hey. I have a mean right hook.” You say, flexing your nonexistent muscles. 

“It’ll be fine Junhui. And I’ll come by first thing in the morning with the blood.” 

“When do I get turned?” 

“When I can be bothered.” Seungkwan dismisses Wonwoo and goes back to finishing his dinner. 

You and Junhui smile at each other as your friends bicker, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never have to worry about losing each other ever again.

“I thought,” you mumble against Junhui’s lips as he keeps kissing you, “that you were turning me.” 

“I am,” he says against your skin as his lips move down your neck, “but I just wanted to show human _____ how much I love her, one last time.”

His soft lips travel down your body, kissing every bit of skin they come into contact with, like he wants to make sure he’s touched every miniscule part of you before he finally grants your wish. Every tiny peck makes your body feel like it’s on fire and all you can do is lie back on your shared bed, both of you naked, and relish the way he’s worshipping your body. 

“How are you so perfect?” He whispers as he takes your nipple gently into his mouth, humming around it as he sucks gently. 

You’d had sex. You’ve had a lot of sex in your two years together. But this feels different, this feels like you’re giving yourselves to each other, to be naked and bare to each other as he takes your mortal life away and renews it with his unkillable DNA feels like a new birth. It’s possibly the most intimate you’ve ever felt, you’re just two people about to do something that will change your lives for eternity. In all the years you’ll spend with each other after this, no matter how the world changes and whatever life throws at you, this will always stay the same. How it all started, both of you feeling each other in your purest most honest forms, will always feel like this. You’ll always have each other, you’ll always be able to have each other like this. 

His lips leave your nipple, his tongue licking a soft line between the valley of your breasts until he finds your untouched nipple, his lips wrapping around it softly and savouring the feeling of it in his mouth just as much as he had done your other one. Your hands run through his hair, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh at the feeling over him sucking your pebbled nipple. No-one has ever made you feel like this, so beautiful, so wanted. He’s seen hundreds of bodies in his life and yet every time he sees, or feels or tastes yours, it’s like he’s in awe of you, like he can’t get over how stunning you are and that you love him as much as he loves you. 

“I love you,” he hums as his lips move lower and lower, trailing down your stomach, even stopping at your belly button and giving that a little kiss because he knows the ticklish feeling would make you giggle. 

“I love you too,” you giggle as his lips travel painfully close to your pussy. 

You can’t even be annoyed when he bypasses it entirely, you know once he gets a taste of you, he won’t be able to stop. The man has spent hours with his head between your thighs and you both know that he doesn’t stop until you physically can’t take anymore. So he can’t get sidetracked by your perfect pussy because he’s not finished showing the rest of your body the same amount of love as he’s already shown your upper half. His kisses turn wet as he kisses your thighs, your body twitching a little when his hair brushes past your pussy when he kisses the inside of your thighs. 

“I don’t know,” he mumbles as his lips move down your legs, kissing every where he comes into contact with, “how I got so lucky to find someone as fucking exquisite as you after all this time.” 

He dodges your feet after he places a gentle kiss on one and you laugh, almost ruining his little monologue. Not that he minds, your laugh has become his favourite sound in the world and one that he can’t wait to hear forever more. But clearly your feet are out of bounds if he doesn’t want you rolling around laughing and so he makes his way back up your legs, savouring the way your soft skin feels against his lips, his tongue occasionally popping out too because any part of you tastes divine to him and he can’t resist.

Junhui glances up at you as he reaches your pussy once again but instead of moving back up your body, he dots featherlight kisses all over you, over your folds, over the inside of your thighs, everywhere he can to show you just how much he loves you. His left hand takes yours in his whilst his other hand gently opens you up for him, his eyes shining in love as he kisses your clit, the feeling making you moan a little as his lips kiss their way down to your leaking entrance. 

“So pretty,” he kitten licks your hole, tasting you straight from the source, “I can’t believe I get to spend eternity with you. All mine, to taste, to savour, to worship.” He licks a long stripe back up to your clit, your hand squeezing his from how good it feels. 

His lips suck gently on your clit, your hips bucking a little from the pleasure it sends shooting through your body. 

“Do you think every part of you tastes good darling?” He must feel the way you twitch at that because you feel his smirk disrupt his sucking on your clit he’d gone back to doing. 

You’d told him just how much the idea of him biting you excited you, you’ve no idea why, you think it’s because it’s something nobody has ever done. It’s something so forbidden that for him to do it, to bite you and to taste your blood, it makes this whole thing even more erotic. You’d spoken about tonight, you’d told him that you wanted to feel him bite you just once before he actually bites you properly. You know you’re risking a lot and you’re amazed he agreed, if Seungkwan found out, he’d be furious. “Just one bite and just a taste.” But you want to know how good the pain feels and see the effect your blood has on him before you’re too lost in changing into a vampire that you don’t see anything at all. 

“You’re such a dirty girl ______. It’s pretty perverse to want to see the effect you have on me like that. But,” he licks your pussy again, humming at the taste of your fresh wave of arousal, “I’d give you anything darling, I’d give you the whole fucking world if I could.” 

He licks one more time before his tongue carries on up along your stomach and wraps around one of your nipples again. 

“Fuck!” He makes you jump when suddenly drops your nipple and shouts, “I love you so fucking much.” He says through gritted teeth, your heart pounding and pussy clenching when, for the first time in two years, he looks up at you and you see those red eyes and pearlescent fangs that you saw once before in his office. 

“You think you can just tell me that you want me to taste you, all of you, and I wouldn’t say yes?” his teeth scratch along your skin softly, just above where your heart is pounding. 

You try your best not to squirm but you can’t help it, you’re not doing it out of fear, you’re doing it because of the threat of him sinking his teeth into you at any given moment. The thrill of that expectant pain only makes you drip more than you ever have for him. 

His fingers trail down your stomach as his teeth pause in their scratching, weighing just a little heavier on your skin and making your body pause in anticipation. But he doesn’t do anything with his teeth. His fingers however plunge into your aching hole, making you arch in pleasure at the sudden stretch of his two fingers and your skin, that his teeth were already resting on, ripple the skin, perilously close to breaking it but somehow not. 

“Look how wet you are just at the thought of me tasting your blood, I never knew you were such a pervert darling,” he mutters against your skin, his fingers dragging against your gummy walls and hitting your g spot tantalisingly.

You can’t respond to him, you’re too lost in pleasure and the idea that you’re totally in his care. Your whole body is his to do with as he pleases and if one thing goes wrong, you’re done for. You trust him, you trust him with your life or what you’ll have left of it after this, but it’s the temptation that he’ll have and danger that comes with it. It’s warped, but the idea that he is going to be so drunk on you when he tastes you, that you’ll be giving him so much pleasure in ways no other woman ever has during sex, is sending you a little crazy. 

His fingers hammer in and out of you, the sounds of your sopping pussy and moans that your body doesn’t seem to want to fully release as you wait for him to taste you, filling the room. You’re close, you’re so close and he knows it. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows every twitch and every tiny response you have to him and so he knows from the little pattern of clenches your pussy is making around his long fingers, that it won’t be long until you come undone around them. 

It’s because he knows you so well, knows what you want from him, that just as your high is about to it, he sinks his fangs into you just enough that it punctures your skin. 

“Fuck,” you cry, your pussy trembling around his fingers just as much as the rest of your body is as the pain of him biting you and drawing blood mixes with the pleasure coursing through your body from the greatest orgasm of your life. You feel like you’re floating, your whole body filled with electricity as you writhe and cry beneath him, gripping his body and riding his fingers to see you through your orgasm. 

When you open your eyes and blink Junhui into focus, the sight makes your blood run cold. Yet you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your pussy clench painfully in overstimulation. 

He stares at you, eyes glistening red and fangs dripping in your blood. The bite has already healed, the dull pain of it and your blood in his mouth being the only reminder that he’d bitten you, as he takes his fingers from inside you and licks your essence off them, the taste of your blood and your cum mixing together and creating something that Junhui has never experienced in all his years of living. It’s like the ultimate delicacy and it stirs something almost animalistic in him. You’re his. You are totally and utterly his and that taste just solidifies it. It’s like it's imprinted something in him that you won’t ever be able to take away, not that he’d ever want you to. 

The blood drips from his fangs onto your breasts and you both look down at it, knowing exactly what he’s going to do even as more blood drips down onto the purity of your skin. His tongue darts out and he licks every last drop that’s fallen, his tongue getting more and more frantic the more he tastes. And you’ve never felt more desired, more totally beholding to someone than you have in your entire life. He hums into the taste and if you couldn’t feel his fangs drag against your nipple as he was licking your blood from your breasts, you’d think he was back to your usual caring Junhui. 

But when he’s cleaned everything off you, your skin a little pink from how he’s spread the remains of blood over you when he licked it off, and he looks into your eyes. Reality hits you. He looks at your untarnished neck, his red eyes shining a little brighter at the prospect of what’s about to happen and you know that this is it. Your mortal life is going to end and you’ll have the privilege that every other person doesn’t get, you’ll get to spend eternity with the man you love. Both of you seeing the wonders the world has to offer now and the wonders that are yet to come. 

You know your Junhui is still there, he isn’t so lost in the taste of you or his desires that he’s totally left you, because he nods just a little, silently asking you if you’re ready for this. 

“I love you Junhui. I want forever with you.” 

His breath hitches, he takes in your naked body and moves to hover over you, his body resting against yours, skin to skin as he holds your hands above your head. 

He places one last gentle kiss to your mortal lips, whispering a gentle “I love you too.” against them before he moves his lips down along your jaw and onto your neck. 

His lips stop and it’s like your world stops with it. You take one last deep breath in and as you breathe out, you feel his fangs sink into your neck much harder than they had during that first bite. It hurts. It’s the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced but Junhui’s hands squeeze yours letting you know he’s still yours, he hasn’t become the monster that could kill you as he gently sucks on your neck. It isn’t like when someone sucks a love bite onto your neck, with each tiny suck it sinks his fangs even further into your skin and makes you sob just that little harder from the added pain. 

But the pain is the last thing on your mind. You feel his DNA running through your veins, overtaking the DNA that makes you human and changing you into something colder, something more primal. You feel cold, colder than you ever have and yet you feel more alive than ever. Like as more of his DNA courses through you, the stronger your body feels like it’s getting, like you could take on a whole stampede of rhinos and come out the victor. 

He yanks himself away from you, his body shaking and convulsing like everything in him is telling him to carry on, to get his fill of you until you’re dead. But he can’t do that. He won’t. You’re his _____ and he knows if he doesn’t stop now, he never will. He kneels back, still holding one of your hands but drawing away enough to allow the bite enough time to heal and the temptation to keep biting to heal along with it. He strokes your waist with his free hand and waits for you to come round, hoping he hasn’t drawn too much blood from you, as you gasp for breath and shake a little on the bed, your body trying to fight his DNA off yet cling to it to keep you alive. 

“Come on _____,” he whispers, looking at you with wide eyes that are now completely devoid of any red, your Junhui well and truly back. But he just wants to make sure that you’re back and to be honest, he’s starting to panic. “Please darling, come on. We’ve got this, we can do this,” 

His hand keeps stroking your waist and if he was a little less panicked he’d feel that you’re squeezing his hand, trying to show him that you’re still there and your body is just trying to catch up with what’s happened. 

“My love?” He lunges forward when your eyes blink open, the wound on your neck healing completely as you do. “_____ are you with me?” 

He startles a little when you open your eyes and red ones stare back at him. 

“What?” You mumble, not liking the look of slight horror on his face. 

“Nothing,” he shakes off the shock, “I just forgot your eyes would be red until you have your first blood, that’s all. Are you ok? You feel ok?” 

“I feel fantastic,” you smile, “like I could fight someone and actually win.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’ll wear off in an hour or so. Come on, let's get you washed and changed then you can sleep it off before Seungkwan comes with the blood.” 

“Hold on,” you pull his hand as you sit up, both of you face to face, “thank you for doing this. I know it took a lot and I know you hated it. Just….thank you. And I love you.” 

“I love you too.” he says, kissing your lips and noting it doesn’t feel much different from kissing your human lips. “Come on,” he stands up and scoops you into his arms, smiling at how you laugh at his antics and realising this has really changed nothing other than you get to spend your whole life together. 

“There was one more thing I needed to tell you about all this.” 

“What,” you frown as he places you on the bathroom counter and sets the bath running, “if you’re about to tell me some awful thing about being a vampire that you kept to yourself, I’ll kill you Junhui.” 

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try newbie.” You quirks his brow at you. “And it’s not that. You know how Wonwoo wanted turning too?” 

“Yeah?” You say slowly, not really liking where this is going. 

“Well. When Seungkwan brings the blood in the morning. He’s also bringing Wonwoo. Because you’ll both be needing that blood……..” he waits for you to realise what this means. 

“I HAVE TO SPEND TWO WEEKS LOCKED IN THIS APARTMENT WITH FUCKING WONWOO?!” 

He dodges the toilet roll you aim at his head, though only just now your reflexes match his, but can’t help but laugh as you berate him. All he can think as he adds bubbles to your bath is how lucky he is that you walked into his office and caught him drinking blood. If you hadn’t, he’d never be here now. Being shouted at by the love of his life and looking forward to an eternity of this chaos that he’s grown to love so much.

“You’re okay, just breathe… I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere” You kept repeating the words over and over again until he seemed to calm, until he seemed to hear you. 

Unlike Junhui you had always been a very vocal and extroverted person, always the loudest one in the room, the one who stole the attention of everyone without even trying, but after him, after the mark manifested, you drew into yourself, wanting to spend your time with him, getting to know him and his soul. 

It was difficult at first, not being able to really communicate, but at some point a few words started to make sense and as the communication became better, and your love for him grew. 

He told you about his move to Korea, his dance, his brothers, the struggles of his every day that looked so different from your own. 

The mark made it impossible to learn specific details about one another, every time he tried telling you where he was going for his tours, his voice would be muffled. Just as every time you would try and tell him about your university, yours would as good as disappear from his head. 

It made it hard, but you both knew people had it harder than the two of you did. You at least had your love singing you to sleep every night. 

Junhui was sitting in the beauty room before a shoot. Next to him was Soonyoung, and in his lap sat none other than his sweet soulmate that they had all nicknamed ‘Pink’ due to the famous hair that had brought the pair together. 

She ran her hands through his hair as she styled it. 

“Do you really need to rub it in?” Dino said with a somewhat low voice. 

“Obviously” Pink said before squeezing Soonyoung's cheeks together and kissing his lips sweetly. He chuckled in response, looking just as the hamster he claimed he wasn't. 

Jun explained the situation to you through that little link he had in his mind. 

Tell them they’re disgusting. You quickly commented with a laugh. 

As he repeated the words, Pink clutched her imaginary pearls, before jumping down from Soonyoung's lap, earning her a whine from this very grown man. 

“Don’t worry Jun, I’ll make you pretty for her, in hopes that she’s watching along” 

He laughed. You had not found him yet, and he doubted that a performance unit song would be what did the trick. But he could always hope. 

They hadn’t expected carats to go as feral for the music video as they did. But apparently a little bling and smooth moves would be all it took. 

And they did look good, ethereal almost. 

Jun couldn’t help but hope that this would mean you found him, after all that was the reason behind becoming an idol. 

“I hope you see it” He said in his mind as he reached out.

You knew he did something within the music industry, but you couldn’t even imagine the scale it was actually on. How famous your soulmate was, how beautiful. 

Once in a while you stumbled upon Seventeen music videos, but you never clicked on them. There were too many views, and for some reason you had imagined him being from a smaller, more unknown group. 

If you were being completely honest you did think that the music was kind of a side gig. A passion that made life bearable. A hobby. 

It wasn’t until your friend actually forced you to sit down and watch the newly dropped music video for “Spell” that you realized exactly who he was. 

“You have to watch it!” She said as she gently stroked the clock that was counting down on her arm. 

You rolled your eyes with a smirk on your lips. “It’s not gonna be him” 

She shrugged. “You don’t know that! I’m staying in my delusional era, convinced that Minghao has a clock somewhere on that beautiful body of his” 

You pulled her close to you on the couch. “Fine, I’ll watch it” 

A small shriek escaped her throat. You could humor her. 

Exactly two seconds after the music video had started your heart stopped. Because you knew that voice, and on screen was the most beautiful human being you had ever seen. 

The brown curls framing his head, the eyes so soft and kind were looking into your soul. It was him, there was no doubt in your mind. 

The whole scenario was overwhelming, you knew the song, he had been humming it for months, singing it to you at night. 

“This makes no sense” you said slowly as tears welled in your eyes. 

Your bestie had her arms around you in a second, pulling you close as you sobbed into her chest. You didn’t know why, but this wasn’t happy tears, no. You were devastated. 

There was no way in hell a man like that, a man like him would be okay, that he would be happy with someone like you.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong. But he had to have done something. You had been quiet now for around 3 days, and it was the longest time since he had found you, that he had gone without hearing your voice. 

The remaining of the guys had all picked up on it. He was agitated, annoyed and snapped over the smallest mistakes. 

He was currently located in one of the small kitchens in the Hybe building, filling up on water in between breaks of practicing the choreo for the upcoming tour. 

Minghao was leaned up against the fridge, arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked at his best friend.  

“You need to tell me what the hell is going on” as usual when something was bothering either of them, they spoke mandarin. It gave them a sense of privacy even when there were people around. 

Junhui sighed as he looked down at his feet. “She doesn’t speak to me anymore…” it was almost just a whisper, but the hurt, the broken heart that was lying beneath that surface of his was evident. 

Minghao pulled him close, and for once he allowed himself to be comforted. He hid his face in his friend's shoulder as he let the silent tears fall. 

“Did you do anything?” He asked as he pulled away to look at his friend. 

Jun just shook his head as he dried his eyes. “No, at least I don’t think so. I’ve been ragging my brain over and over to find out what could make her pull away. But honestly? The only thing I can think is that she found me… and that she’s disappointed it’s me and not someone else” 

His voice shook, and he burried his head in his hands, hoping the tears would stop falling if he just squeezed the palms of his hands into his eyes hard enough. It didn’t help. 

“I don’t get it, I thought she loved me… I thought she was supposed to accept me for me, and not judge me for it” 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, one that didn’t belong to Minghao, but to Chan. And as he turned there stood the remaining 11 of his brothers. 

The youngest pulled him close and as he cried again, they all rallied around him.

Like the first time you had heard him, he hadn’t meant to let you in. But it did happen from time to time, if their emotions were out of control. And what he had said, had broken your heart. 

You were convinced it would be for the best, that he wouldn’t love someone as normal as you, someone as boring. You were convinced he deserved better. 

But hearing him break, hearing his sobs knowing you were the reason for them. Broke you even more than the potential heartbreak of him not wanting you. 

The days following his breakdown he had stopped trying to reach out, and it almost felt like he had given up. You had scoured the internet to find any kind of update, to see what he was doing, if he was okay. 

Dino had done a live with Minghao, begging Carats to send Jun all their love because he was struggling. 

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, he was supposed to be relieved, supposed to be happy that he, as a world famous artist, didn’t have to settle for someone as ordinary as you. 

But you were slowly learning that you had made a mistake. Because Seventeen was despite being world famous, global superstars, kind people. 

You had watched every going seventeen episode, seen every music video and over all catches up on everything. 

It was funny seeing everything after the fact. You had heard story about his friends going crazy when they played games, and Hoshi and Mingyu especially fit that bill in the ‘Don’t Lie’ episodes. 

He was quiet, more quiet in these settings than he usually was with you. But then you noticed it, hidden smiles and small laughs, it was because when he was with them, he talked to you as well. 

Always updating you on their shenanigans, filling you in on the new games they made along the way or retelling the jokes he knew you would find funny. 

You had fucked up. Severely. Now all that was left to do was trying to fix it.

As the days went by you started to reach out to him. But he wasn’t quite ready to talk yet. He could feel the sorrow in your voice, in the emotions that ran through his mind as you said good morning and good night to him every day. 

You never pushed him, and he appreciated that. He wanted to hear your explanation, as to why you had chosen to cut him out, but he was scared, so scared that the explanation would be a confirmation of all his worst fears. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Joshua said as he laid a hand on his shoulder. 

He sent a tight lipped smile his way. “Yeah, let’s just get through the day” 

“Are you still not sleeping?” Minghao said as he looked up from his phone. 

Jun shook his head and sent a sad smile his way, his friends sighed in unison as Seungkwan entered the room. 

“You need to look after yourself hyung” 

“Maybe you need to talk to her” Joshua pushed. 

Jun only played with his long fingers as he released something in between a huff and a laugh. “I know, but what if all she wants is to cut the tie between us?” 

They would never quite get used to seeing their brother cry, and this past week they’d seen it more than they had in the last few years. 

It was his anxiety talking, he knew that, and so did they. But it was hard talking him down the edge when they had no chance of communicating with you, to actually hear your side. 

Seungcheol looked into the room, and all he got was a small shake of the head in return from the boys. “We’re going on in 5, game face on Jun” 

He took a deep breath and stood from his chair.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, fingers pulling on one another as you simultaneously chewed on your bottom lip. 

Something inside of you couldn’t quite figure out how this had happened, how you had made it happen on such short notice. But here you were sitting in a hall filled with carats, waiting for your soulmates and his brothers fansign. 

They entered the stage and you literally felt your heart stop in anticipation. And there he was, and if handn’t been because of the lack of oxygen you’re pretty sure you would’ve flown from your seat and into his arms before security would even have a chance to notice. 

He’s beautiful, he’s so so beautiful…

He heard your words eccho in his head and for the first time in a week he smiled genuinely all while his cheeks were painted in a subtle blush beneath the make up. 

You better be talking about me and not someone else. He quickly responded. It was a pure instinct, needing to know that you still loved him, that the silence hadn’t been because of a lack of love for him. 

He heard your chuckle in his head. It’s most definitely you Wen Junhui.

You watched him on the stage, hand quickly flying from his side to cover his mouth. You watched as his eyes sparkled. He turned away from the crowd and made these small almost awkward movements, as if he almost wanted to run away but couldn’t. 

Minghao looked his way with furrowed brows, but when he saw his friends smile, he knew that all the anxiety had just been whisked away from his body. And the remaining 12 of them quickly found that the burden they had been carrying was lifted.

“Hi” Minghao said as you sat before him on the long table. He pulled the album you had in front of him closer to sign it. It felt surreal sitting here in front of the people you knew so much about, the people who knew so much about you, but somehow had never met. 

“I feel like I owe you an apology” you said with a small voice in mandarin. The mans eyes lit up as he chuckled. 

“Why would you owe me an apology?” He asked with curious eyes and a smirk. 

You sighed. “Because I’m guessing you’ve had a rough week because of me. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt him. It was just when I found out who he was, I suddenly felt like I was lacking in every aspect” 

You looked towards Junhui as you talked, and shrugged as you ended the sentence. 

“Oh…” you looked up at the beauty that sat there, looking at you with tears in his eyes. He left the album behind and reached out over the table, grabbing your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. 

“He was afraid that you were disappointed, that you had hoped he was someone else” 

You quickly looked back to Minghao with big eyes. “What?! How the hell would he think that?” 

This time it was Minghao's turn to shrug. “I don’t know, but now our time is up, so go get your man” 

He sat up in his chair, leaned over the table and kissed your forehead. “I’ll talk to you after” 

You heard the gasps, the murmuring that had started in the room. Minghao was known for not playing along with carats parasocial relationships, he was known for always giving people a wake up call. So you could understand the shock of suddenly seeing him kiss a carat at a fan sign. 

You also knew your bestie would end up killing you for not bringing her along for this. 

Before you knew it you were in front of him. He didn’t look up from the album right away, he just introduced himself, and when his eyes finally met yours, all he saw was you sitting there with an open mouth, trying to get the words out. 

He blushed, he actually blushed when he looked at you, and in your mind you heard a small; wow. 

You took a deep breath and then you blurted it all out. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I made you doubt yourself, doubt me, doubt us. It was never my intention. I just, I finally found you and every bad thing I have ever thought about myself was suddenly under a magnifying glass. I felt so ordinary, so plain, so incredibly boring next to you, your life…” 

He hadn’t taken a single breath since you had started taking. He knew your voice as well as he knew his own. And before he knew it, before you even blinked he had thrown himself over the table and pulled you close. 

“You’re here”  he whispered into your hair, loving the smell of your hair, your skin and your perfume. 

“I’m here” you whispered back as your hands pulled him as close as physically possible despite the table. 

He pulled away and ran a hand over your cheek, catching your tears with his thumb. He rested his forehead against yours as he laughed, a laugh that you returned. It was one of disbelief and pure joy. 

You heard all the people move around you, heard as people were ushered out of the room to give the two of you some type of privacy. The fansign would continue when everyone had a chance to calm down. 

He stood up and walked around the table. “I can’t believe you’re here, that you actually found me, that you got in here so quickly” He pulled you into his chest and rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

You could hear his frantically beating heart beneath his chest, god you could feel his chest, every muscle. Beneath your skin. 

I swear you were hand sculptured by all the gods that have ever existed. 

You said through the link in your mind. He laughed. Loud and genuine. 

You’re so beautiful my love. That you were ever in doubt about being good enough for me… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you more often, that I didn’t tell you more often just how proud I am of you. That I didn’t manage to make you feel safe with me. I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. 

He pulled you close with one of his hands on the back of your neck, the other on your cheek. He caressed your nose against his, looking for any type of doubt in your eyes. But he found none. Instead you closed the distance and kissed him. 

The room broke out in whistles and cheers, loud and chaotic. Just as you had always imagined they would be. 

The two of you smiled, before looking towards those he called his brothers. 

They were all over you in a second. Introducing themselves, bickering with one another about who should have the privilege of meeting you first. And Jun, he never let go of you, his fingers stayed intertwined with yours. Just as they were meant to be.

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What starts as a petty plan to provoke your situationship quickly spirals when Jeonghan decides he has his own agenda. He’s charming, persuasive, and far too good at playing the part—but he doesn’t stop there. Suddenly, he’s helping with little schemes, showing up uninvited (but never unwelcome), and somehow ends up making himself at home in your life—and on your couch.

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Joshua Hong

You needed someone who could blend in at your cousin’s picture-perfect wedding—filled with watchful eyes and whispered prayers. Joshua fits the mold effortlessly, all soft smiles and perfect manners. But in between performances, his glances linger, his concern feels too genuine, and suddenly, you’re not sure what’s part of the act—and what isn’t.

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A language barrier seemed like the easiest way to avoid awkward small talk during your solo trip abroad. Jun arrives looking like a dream, translator app in hand and eyes full of curiosity. You expect distance—but instead, you find connection in shared silences, quiet gestures, and the way he always seems to be right by your side.

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The horn blared across the strawberry fields, sharp and insistent, signaling the start of Capture the Flag. Camp Half-Blood erupted into motion. Demigods in Greek armor sprinted toward their zones, weapons flashing under the late-afternoon sun. Shouts, laughter, and the metallic clang of practice swords filled the air like a war drum.

You rolled your shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of your bronze breastplate settle into place. The Ares cabin banner: a snarling boar on blood-red fabric, fluttered from the spear slung across your back. Your team was already massing near the jagged boulders that marked the edge of your territory. Soonyoung stood at the front, electric spear in hand, barking orders with the kind of enthusiasm that made lesser campers flinch.

"Front line, on me!" you shouted, voice cutting through the noise. "We hit hard, we hit fast. No overthinking, just steel and guts!"

Roars answered you. Your siblings grinned, feral and ready. This was home. No strategy meetings, no endless debates. Just the clean burn of adrenaline, the promise of contact, the satisfaction of bodies hitting the ground.

Across the creek, deep in the woods Athena had claimed, Junhui stood apart from the bustle. His dark hair was pulled back neatly, exposing the clean line of his jaw. He wore the standard orange camp T-shirt beneath light leather armor, simple, functional, no unnecessary flair. In his right hand rested a plain xiphos; his left was empty. He didn’t need props. His real weapon had always been the quiet machinery behind his eyes.

He scanned the field in one long, deliberate sweep: the depth of the creek at three different crossing points, the density of underbrush along the left flank, the precise angle of sunlight slicing through the canopy. Every variable filed away. His siblings waited in neat ranks, already divided into squads per the plan he’d drawn on birch bark the night before.

One of his sibilings leaned in from his left. "Ares is going straight for the shallows again. Same as last time."

Junhui’s mouth curved, just the ghost of a smile. "Perfect."

He lifted two fingers. Archers slipped into the trees without a sound. Illusionists moved to their marks. The trap squad vanished like shadows. Everything locked into place.

The game began. You led the charge. Feet pounding dirt, heart slamming, you vaulted the first fallen log and plunged into the creek. Cold water exploded around your greaves, soaking your legs to the thighs. Behind you, twenty Ares campers surged forward in a roaring tide, spears leveled, shields locked, a moving wall of bronze and fury. The plan (if anyone could call it that) was brutally simple: overwhelm. Smash whatever defenses Athena thought they’d built and seize their flag before they could blink.

A flight of arrows hissed overhead. Blunted tips, red paint for scoring hits, but they still stung like wasps if they landed. You raised your shield on instinct; crimson splattered across the bronze in ugly streaks.

"Keep pushing!" you bellowed. "They’re already running!"

Another volley came, tighter, more precise. One grazed your shoulder guard, the impact jarring bone. You snarled and drove forward.

The far bank loomed ahead: steep, muddy, a natural choke point. You grinned wide. They’d funneled you exactly where brute force thrived, close quarters, no room to maneuver, perfect for breaking lines.

Then the world tilted. The bank simply collapsed beneath the front rank. You felt the ground give, heard the startled yells as your siblings dropped into a wide, concealed pit lined with soft earth and illusion-draped branches. You twisted mid-stride, boots skidding on slick roots, trying to leap clear, but momentum betrayed you. Something caught your spear (thin wire?) and yanked. A net snapped shut around your legs like a steel trap.

You hit the dirt hard, rolling once before the webbing pinned you facedown. Paint arrows rained from the canopy above, marking "kills" on anyone still twitching. Your team was unraveling fast, some snared in secondary traps, others pinned by Athena’s flanking squads who appeared from nowhere, moving like they’d rehearsed every step.

A hush fell over the creek, broken only by distant cheers from safe zones and the occasional groan of defeat.

You thrashed, testing the net. It held, tight, professional, no give. Your spear lay tangled just out of reach.

Boots crunched softly on the bank above. You twisted your neck enough to glare up. Junhui stood there, arms loosely crossed, expression calm. Almost detached. His dark eyes swept over you once, assessing damage, position, remaining threat, then locked on yours.

"Reckless" he said, voice low and even, carrying that faint, clipped precision he never quite shook. "Predictable. That’s why you’ll never win."

Fury flooded your face, hot, immediate, humiliating. The sting of truth made it worse.

You bared your teeth. "Keep hiding behind your little diagrams, brainiac. Real warriors don’t need to cheat."

He tilted his head, studying you the way someone might study a battle map that refused to behave.

"I don’t cheat" he replied. "I calculate. There’s a difference."

One of his siblings tossed him their flag, blue silk embroidered with a silver owl. He caught it one-handed without breaking eye contact.

The conch sounded three long blasts. Game over. Athena victorious.

Junhui gave the net a small, almost casual tug; it loosened just enough for you to sit up. He didn’t offer a hand. Didn’t need to. The victory was already written in every clean line of his posture.

You shoved upright anyway, ripping the last strands free, ignoring the dull ache blooming across your ribs from the fall. Paint streaked your arms, your chest, bright red proof of failure.

Your siblings were dragging themselves out of pits and snares, cursing viciously. One caught your eye across the water; she looked ready to set the entire forest on fire. Probably starting with you for not spotting the trap.

Junhui turned to leave.

"Hey" you called.

He paused, half-turning.

"This isn’t over" you said, voice rough.

His mouth quirked, not quite a smile, more acknowledgment than anything else.

"I know."

Then he walked away, blue banner over his shoulder, leaving you standing in the mud with your pride shredded and something unfamiliar twisting under your ribs. Not respect. Definitely not.

Just… irritation. Definitely irritation.

The rest of the afternoon blurred into cleanup and post-game noise. Athena cabin stayed quiet, smug in that infuriating, understated way only planners who’d accounted for every variable could manage. Ares cabin was loud, furious, already plotting next month’s revenge with increasingly creative threats.

You skipped the dining pavilion. Instead you ended up at the edge of the beach, sitting on a salt-bleached log, running a whetstone along your spear blade with more force than necessary. The sun dipped low, painting the water in molten copper.

Footsteps behind you, light, deliberate. You didn’t turn.

"Still brooding?" Junhui’s voice, closer now.

You snorted. "Hardly. Just making sure this spear’s sharp enough to carve through your next master plan."

He stopped a few feet away. Didn’t sit. Just stood, hands in his pockets, watching the water ripple.

"You charged exactly where I expected" he said after a moment. "Same crossing point as last summer. Same speed. Same tight formation."

You stiffened. "So?"

"So maybe change it next time."

You whipped around, eyes blazing. "Don’t lecture me, son of Athena. I don’t need your pointers."

He met your glare without flinching. "It wasn’t a lecture. It was an observation."

Silence stretched, taut, crackling. Then he added, quieter "You almost broke the line anyway. If Soonyoung had shifted left instead of right at the second volley…"

You blinked. Was that… praise? He seemed to catch himself. His expression shuttered instantly. "Forget it" he muttered.

He started to walk away.

"Wait."

He stopped again. You stood, spear still gripped tight. "Why’d you come down here?"

A long beat.

"I don’t know" he admitted. For the first time all day, he sounded almost… human. Uncertain.

You stared, really looked. The dying light caught the sharp edges of his face, the faint scar above his left brow from some old monster scrape, the way his shoulders stayed squared even when exhaustion tugged at the corners of his eyes.

Something shifted in your chest. Annoyance, sure. But underneath it, curiosity. Dangerous, unwelcome curiosity.

"Then figure it out" you said, turning back to the water. "And stay out of my way next time."

He didn’t answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low the waves almost swallowed it.

"I will."

But the way he said it didn’t sound like retreat. It sounded like the opening move of something much longer.

A week after the Capture the Flag disaster, the camp still hummed with the aftermath. Ares cabin ate louder, trained harder and glared across the pavilion at Athena’s table like they could set it on fire with looks alone. You threw yourself into sparring sessions until your muscles screamed, trying to burn away the memory of that net snapping shut and Junhui’s calm voice calling you predictable.

It almost worked.

Then Chiron summoned you both to the Big House porch at dawn.

The centaur stood tall, tail swishing slowly, his expression grave in the pale morning light. Mr. D lounged in a deck chair nearby, nursing a Diet Coke and looking bored enough to die.

"You two" Chiron began without preamble, "have been selected for a retrieval quest."

You blinked. Junhui, standing a careful three steps to your right, went very still.

"An ancient bronze diadem, once worn by a minor sea nymph, was stolen from the camp borders three nights ago. Satyrs tracked the thief to an old cyclops forge hidden in the pine woods north of here. One cyclops, possibly with a few guards. The artifact is minor, but its theft is a deliberate provocation. We need it back before word spreads."

You felt a grin tug at your mouth. Finally, real action. No games, no paint arrows. Just monsters and steel.

Junhui spoke first, voice measured. "Why us specifically?"

Chiron’s eyes flicked between you. "Strength and strategy. The forge is trapped, mechanical, precise. Raw power alone will trigger every trap. Calculation alone will be too slow when the cyclops wakes. Together…" He let the word hang.

You crossed your arms. "I don’t do together. Especially not with him."

"Exactly why you’re perfect" Chiron said dryly. "You’ll balance each other. Or kill each other trying. Either way, the diadem returns by sunset tomorrow."

Mr. D snorted. "Try not to die. Paperwork’s a nightmare."

Dismissed.

Outside, you rounded on Junhui before he could open his mouth.

"I lead. You follow. No arguments."

He raised one dark brow. "You’ll walk straight into every pressure plate and tripwire."

"And you’ll sit there analyzing shadows until the cyclops uses your skull as a hammer."

He exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh, but too controlled. "We leave at dusk. Meet me at the armory in two hours. I need to see your gear."

"My gear’s fine."

"It’s not about fine. It’s about compatibility."

You stared. "You’re unbelievable."

"So I’ve been told."

He walked away first this time, leaving you fuming on the steps. Two hours later, the armory smelled of oil, leather and heated bronze. You arrived early, already strapped into your favorite kit: greaves, vambraces, breastplate and the heavy spear that had tasted more monster than you could count. A short sword hung at your hip for close work.

Junhui entered quietly, carrying a small pack and wearing light reinforced leather: dark, flexible, designed for movement over brute protection. No helmet. His hair was combed back again, exposing the sharp lines of his face.

He looked you over once, clinical.

"Too heavy" he said immediately. "You’ll sink in the soft ground near the forge. Ditch the breastplate."

You laughed, short, sharp. "And get skewered by a cyclops spike? No thanks."

"The cyclops won’t get close enough to skewer you if we do this right." He pulled a folded parchment from his pack, hand-drawn map, annotations in neat Greek script. "Entry from the east ridge. Narrow path, single-file. I go first to mark traps. You cover rear. Once inside, I disable mechanisms; you handle the guardian."

You snatched the map. It was annoyingly detailed: elevation marks, probable trap locations marked with tiny Xs, wind direction arrows. "You spent all day on this?"

"Three hours. Sleep is overrated."

You rolled your eyes but kept the map. "Fine. But if your fancy plan fails, I’m charging anyway."

"Noted."

Dusk came fast. You slipped past the border, pine needles muffling your steps. The forest thickened quickly, old growth, twisted roots, the faint metallic tang of forge smoke on the wind. Junhui moved ahead like a shadow, pausing every few meters to study the ground, then marking safe paths with small white stones from his pocket.

You followed, spear low but ready, irritation simmering. Every time he stopped, you had to stop. Every time he murmured "wait" your fingers tightened on the haft.

After twenty minutes of silent trekking, he crouched beside a fallen log and beckoned you down.

"Tripwire" he whispered, pointing to a thin bronze filament stretched ankle-high across the path. Moonlight caught it in a faint gleam. "Pressure plate three meters ahead. Probably drops boulders."

You squinted. Barely visible. "How’d you even see that?"

"Practice."

You wanted to snap something sarcastic, but the truth was, you hadn’t seen it. At all.

He stepped over the wire with careful grace, then waited for you. You followed, feeling oversized and clumsy next to his precision.

Another hundred meters. The smoke thickened, carrying the clang of distant hammers: cyclops working late. Junhui froze mid-step.

"Movement" he breathed.

You heard it a second later, heavy footfalls, then a low growl that vibrated through your boots. Hellhound. Two, maybe three.

Junhui’s hand shot out, pressing flat against your chest to stop you. The touch was brief, firm (pure reflex) but it sent a jolt through you anyway. You shoved his hand away.

"I can handle dogs" you hissed.

"Not quietly."

He pulled a small bronze disk from his pack: Athena’s gift, illusion rune. He crushed it between his fingers; faint mist rolled out, cloaking you both in a shimmer that bent light. Not invisibility, more like a suggestion to look elsewhere.

The hellhounds passed within ten meters, noses twitching, but they kept moving toward some distant scent. You exhaled slowly.

Junhui met your eyes. "See? Brains."

"Shut up" you muttered, but there was no heat in it.

The forge appeared through the trees: a cavern mouth braced with iron beams, glowing orange from within. Anvils rang sporadically. One cyclops: massive, one-eyed, skin like cracked granite, hammered at something on a workbench. The diadem sat on a stone pedestal nearby, bronze gleaming.

Junhui crouched behind a boulder, sketching quick lines in the dirt: entry vector, cyclops position, trap indicators.

You leaned in despite yourself. "How do we get past the big guy?"

"Distraction on the left flank, loose rockfall. He turns. You slip in from right, grab it. I cover exit with smoke bombs."

You studied the sketch. It was solid. Annoyingly solid.

"Fine" you said. "But if he charges you-"

"I won’t let him."

You snorted. "Big talk."

He looked at you then, really looked. Something flickered in his dark eyes. Not fear. Not arrogance. Just… focus. "Let’s move."

You took the right approach while he circled left. Heart pounding, not from nerves, but anticipation. This was what you lived for.

Junhui triggered the rockfall with a precise throw of a weighted sling stone. Boulders rumbled down the slope. The cyclops roared, lumbering toward the noise, hammer raised.

You sprinted. The cavern mouth swallowed you. Heat blasted your face. The diadem was heavier than it looked: solid bronze, etched with wave patterns. You snatched it, tucked it into your belt pouch. Behind you, the cyclops turned back too fast. It saw you. Roared. Charged.

You drew your spear, grinning wide. "Come on, ugly!"

It swung the hammer in a wide arc. You ducked, rolled, came up slashing at its thigh. Bronze bit deep; ichor sprayed. The cyclops bellowed, staggering.

Then the ground shook, not from the fight. A massive boulder (part of the ceiling?) detached and plummeted straight toward Junhui’s position outside. He was still marking the exit path, back turned. You didn’t think. You sprinted.

The cyclop lunged after you; you ignored it. You reached Junhui just as the boulder dropped, slamming your shoulder into his side. You both hit the dirt hard, rolling down the slope as stone crashed where he’d stood seconds earlier.

Dust choked the air. Pain bloomed across your ribs: bruised, maybe cracked, but you were alive.

Junhui coughed, pushed up on one elbow. His eyes were wide, genuine shock. "You-"

"Shut up" you growled, shoving to your feet. The cyclops was recovering, roaring fury.

Junhui scrambled up, grabbed your arm. "Run."

You ran. Through trees, leaping roots, the diadem banging against your hip. Hellhounds howled behind, drawn by the noise. Junhui tossed another illusion disk; mist bloomed, confusing their pursuit.

You burst past the camp border as the moon hit zenith. Safe.

You both collapsed against a pine trunk, chests heaving. Silence, except for ragged breathing. You pulled the diadem free, tossed it into his lap without looking. "There. Your stupid plan worked."

He caught it, fingers brushing yours for half a second. "You improvised."

"Had to. Boulder wasn’t in your diagram."

He huffed, almost a laugh. "No. It wasn’t."

You glanced sideways. Sweat streaked his face, hair coming loose from its tie. A thin cut above his eyebrow leaked blood, probably from the fall.

He noticed you staring. "What?"

"You almost died."

"So did you."

"Yeah, well." You shrugged, wincing at the pull in your ribs. "Brains need brawn sometimes."

He looked at you, long, searching. Then, quietly: "And sometimes brawn needs brains."

You held his gaze. Something shifted again, heavier this time. Not quite respect. Not yet. But close.

He stood first, offering the diadem back. "Chiron will want this."

You took it, fingers lingering on his. "Don’t get used to me saving your ass, nerd."

"Don’t get used to me needing it, warrior."

But as you walked back toward the Big House, side by side, not quite touching, the space between you felt smaller than it had an hour ago. And neither of you moved to widen it.

Weeks blurred into the familiar rhythm of camp life after the cyclops quest. Mornings meant archery drills or horse grooming. Afternoons brought sword practice, wall climbs and the endless cycle of bragging, bruises, and ambrosia squares. You threw yourself into it all harder than usual, as if extra sweat could erase the memory of tackling Junhui out of a falling boulder’s path or the way his fingers had brushed yours when you handed back the diadem.

It didn’t.

The whispers started small. A Hermes kid snickering during dinner about how "the Ares psycho and the Athena robot almost looked like they cared about each other out there." One of your sisters overheard, slammed her fist on the table hard enough to crack the wood and declared loudly that anyone spreading that garbage would eat their own spear. The rumors didn’t die, they just went quieter, more amused.

Then Chiron changed the training rotation. Joint cabin drills. Every third day, Ares paired with Athena for partnered sparring, strategy simulations and combined obstacle courses. No opting out. No substitutions. Chiron’s exact words: "Rivalry sharpens both blade and mind. Learn to use each other’s strengths instead of pretending they don’t exist."

You wanted to argue. You didn’t.

First session was brutal. The arena floor had been raked smooth, weapons racks gleaming under floodlights as the sun dipped. Ares campers lined up on one side in full gear: spears, shields, war whoops already building. Athena’s side stood opposite: lighter armor, precise stances, eyes scanning opponents like equations to solve.

Chiron paired names. Of course your name landed right next to Junhui’s.

You stepped into the marked circle together. He wore his usual dark leather reinforced with bronze scales at vital points: minimal, efficient. His xiphos hung at his hip; no shield. You carried spear and hoplon shield, the weight grounding you.

"Rules" Chiron called. "No maiming. No killing intent. First to three solid touches or disarm wins the round. Begin on my mark."

You twirled your spear once, loosening your wrists. "Don’t hold back, brainiac. I won’t."

Junhui’s mouth curved, just the tiniest fraction. "I never do."

Chiron’s whistle shrilled. You lunged first, standard Ares opener: fast thrust aimed at center mass to force a dodge and create opening. Junhui sidestepped smoothly, not retreating, just shifting angle. His blade flashed up in a parry that rang against your spear shaft, the vibration traveling up your arms.

You pressed, sweeping low. He jumped the arc, countered with a quick downward slash toward your shoulder guard. You blocked with the shield rim, shoved forward hard enough to make him stagger a step.

He recovered instantly, too instantly. Pivoted, used your momentum against you, hooked your spear with his xiphos and twisted.

You let go before he could fully disarm you, rolling sideways and coming up with shield raised. He didn’t pursue aggressively; he circled instead, studying.

"Stop dancing" you growled. "Fight."

"I am fighting" he replied, calm. "You’re just louder about it."

You charged again, feint high, drop low, spear thrusting for his thigh. He anticipated, stepped inside your reach, forearm blocking the haft while his free hand snapped out in a palm strike to your chest plate. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to jolt you back.

Score one for him.

You snarled, reset stance. "Cheap."

"Effective."

Next exchange was faster. You hammered shield against shield (he’d grabbed one from the rack mid-fight, smart bastard), then spun out and cracked the butt of your spear against his ribs. Solid contact. Point for you.

He exhaled sharply but didn’t complain. Just nodded once, acknowledgment.

By the third touch: his blade tapping your throat guard after a slick disarm, you were both breathing hard, sweat darkening hair and leather. The round ended in a tie. Chiron called time.

You lowered weapons. He did the same.

"Not bad" you said grudgingly.

"You almost had me on the second disarm" he replied. "If you’d committed to the feint instead of hesitating."

You snorted. "Don’t critique my form while I’m still holding a spear."

He almost smiled. Almost.

The sessions repeated every few days. Sometimes you won. Sometimes he did. Most times it ended in draws that left you both bruised, frustrated and strangely energized.

One evening after a particularly grueling drill, the arena emptied slowly. Most campers headed to the campfire or showers. You stayed behind, methodically wiping down your spear with an oiled rag. The floodlights buzzed overhead; crickets sang in the darkening woods.

Footsteps approached, light, familiar. Junhui stopped at the edge of the circle, arms crossed loosely. He hadn’t changed out of his training gear yet; a faint sheen of sweat still clung to his collarbones.

"You’re doing that wrong" he said.

You glanced up. "Excuse me?"

"Your grip on the haft. Too tight at the base. Limits wrist rotation." He stepped closer, voice dropping to demonstration level. "Here."

Before you could protest, he reached out, slow enough to give you time to pull away if you wanted. You didn’t. His fingers closed over yours on the spear shaft, adjusting position with careful pressure. Thumb here. Fingers looser there. The correction was precise, clinical. But his skin was warm against yours, calluses matching in places where sword and spear had worn matching grooves.

You felt your pulse kick up, annoyingly loud in your ears.

"Try it" he said, stepping back.

You did. A practice thrust. The motion felt… smoother. More control without losing power.

You hated that he was right.

"Better" he said quietly.

You lowered the spear. "Why are you still here?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Same reason you are. Cooling down."

You studied him in the artificial light. Sweat-damp hair falling across his forehead. The faint scar above his brow more visible now. The way his chest rose and fell in measured rhythm, never quite frantic even after an hour of combat.

Something tightened in your stomach, hot, unfamiliar, unwelcome.

"You stare a lot for someone who claims not to care" you said, aiming for mockery.

His eyes met yours. Steady. Unreadable for a second. "I’m observing" he corrected. "There’s a difference."

"Right. Athena thing." You turned away, setting the spear in the rack with more force than necessary. "Always analyzing."

He didn’t answer immediately. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. "You changed your footwork last week. Wider stance on defense. It’s working."

You froze mid-motion. "You noticed that?"

"I notice everything."

The words hung between you, simple, factual, but weighted somehow.

You turned back slowly. He hadn’t moved closer, but the space felt smaller.

"Then notice this" you said, stepping into his space until only a hand’s width separated you. "I don’t need your pointers. I don’t need your observations. And I definitely don’t need you looking at me like I’m some puzzle you’re trying to solve."

His gaze dropped to your mouth for half a heartbeat, barely long enough to register, then flicked back up.

"Maybe you are" he said quietly.

Your breath caught. For one stupid, suspended second, neither of you moved. Then you laughed, short, rough, breaking the tension like glass. "Keep dreaming, nerd."

You shouldered past him, deliberately brushing his arm. The contact sparked, electric, irritating. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t follow. But as you walked toward the cabins, you felt his eyes on your back the entire way.

The whispers grew bolder after that.

"They’re always the last ones out of the arena."

"Did you see how close they got during that last spar? Looked like they were about to-"

"Shut up before they hear you."

You pretended not to hear. Junhui probably did the same.

Another week passed. Another joint session. This time the exercise was different: blindfolded paired combat. Trust exercise, Chiron called it. One partner blindfolded, the other giving verbal directions to navigate an obstacle course filled with moving dummies and low swinging pendulums.

You drew the short straw. Blindfold first. Black cloth tied snug over your eyes. World reduced to sound, vibration, smell. Junhui’s voice came from your left, low, steady.

"Step forward. Three paces. Stop."

You obeyed, grudgingly. Boots scuffed dirt.

"Right. Pivot forty-five degrees. Forward five steps, slow. Pendulum at head height in three… two… duck now."

You dropped instinctively. Air whooshed overhead.

"Good" he said. Something almost warm in the word.

You hated how much you liked hearing it.

Next obstacle: narrow beam over a shallow pit of mud. "Left foot first. Balance. I’ll count cadence."

You moved, slow, deliberate. His instructions were precise: "Shift weight center… good… right foot now… hold…"

Halfway across, a dummy lunged from the side: mechanical, spring-loaded.

Junhui’s voice sharpened. "Left, block high, now!"

You swung your practice sword on reflex. Wood cracked against wood. Dummy staggered.

"Finish it. Right cross."

You did. The dummy toppled.

"Clear" he said.

You reached the end of the beam, heart pounding from more than exertion.

He untied the blindfold himself, fingers brushing your temples as he pulled the cloth free. You blinked against sudden light.

His face was close, closer than necessary.

"You trusted me" he said. Not a question.

You swallowed. "Had to."

A beat. Then, quieter he says "I won’t let you fall."

The words landed heavier than they should have.

You stepped back, too fast. "Don’t get sentimental on me."

His mouth quirked. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

But as he turned to take his turn on the course, you caught the way his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, like something had settled inside him.

That night you lay awake in the Ares cabin, listening to snores and the distant hoot of owls. The memory of his fingers near your face replayed on loop. The calm certainty in his voice when he said he wouldn’t let you fall.

You rolled over, punched your pillow. Stupid. He was still a nerd. Still insufferable. Still the guy who’d called you predictable. But the irritation didn’t burn quite as hot anymore. It felt… different. Warmer. Dangerous.

Across camp, in the Athena cabin, Junhui sat at his desk with a half-finished strategy scroll in front of him. He hadn’t written a single new line in twenty minutes. Instead he stared at the empty space where your silhouette had been during the blindfolded drill: shoulders squared, blind but fearless, trusting his voice to guide you through chaos. He exhaled slowly. Recalculating.

The border alarm shattered the quiet just past midnight. Three long, bone-deep blasts from the conch horn: emergency, not drill. Camp Half-Blood jolted awake. Cabins emptied in seconds: demigods spilling onto the green in hastily buckled armor, weapons already drawn, eyes wide and bright with the kind of adrenaline that only came from real monsters at the edge of the magical barrier.

You were out of the Ares cabin before the third blast faded, spear in hand, breastplate half-strapped. Your sibilings were right behind you, electric spear crackling blue-white in the dark. "Dracaenae" one snarled, already tasting the fight. "Satyrs spotted a raiding party crossing the western tree line. They’re testing the border, hard."

You didn’t waste breath on questions. You ran. The woods west of the cabins were thickest: old pines, tangled underbrush, perfect cover for serpentine bodies slithering through shadows. The barrier shimmered faintly ahead, a golden veil stretched between ancient trunks. Beyond it, movement: hisses, scales scraping bark, the wet slap of tails.

Chiron galloped up as you reached the front line, bow already nocked. "Hold the perimeter" he ordered. "They can’t cross unless the barrier fails. Push them back before they find a weak point."

Athena cabin arrived seconds later, Junhui at the front, moving with that same quiet purpose he always had. No panic. No shouting. Just eyes scanning the treeline, calculating angles, numbers, vectors of attack. He carried his xiphos and a small round shield; behind him, younger siblings fanned out with bows and javelins, already taking elevated positions in the branches.

Your eyes met his across the chaos for half a second. No words. Just a nod, sharp, mutual. We’ve got this.

Then the dracaenae hit. They burst from the undergrowth in a wave, dozens, maybe more. Upper bodies humanoid, women with copper skin and venom-green eyes; lower halves massive serpent coils that propelled them forward faster than any horse. Spears tipped with jagged coral, whips crackling with Stygian ice. They hissed war cries in ancient Greek, voices overlapping like a nest of vipers.

The barrier flared as the first wave slammed into it, golden light rippling, holding, but straining. Arrows from the trees answered immediately: Athena’s archers, precise, dropping three dracaenae before they could regroup.

You charged the breach point where the barrier flickered weakest.

"Front line, with me!" you called.

Ares campers surged forward in a wedge. You led, spear leveled, shield up. The first dracaena met you head-on, whip cracking toward your face. You ducked, thrust low, bronze punching through scaled midsection. She shrieked, dissolving into golden dust. Another lunged from the side; you spun, cracked your shield rim into her jaw, then finished with an upward stab.

Around you the fight exploded: younger Ares kids holding formation with grim determination, Athena strategists calling targets "Left flank, three incoming, archers now!" and the border itself groaning under repeated impacts.

Junhui stayed back at first, directing, repositioning. "Archers, concentrate fire on the whip-wielders! Swords, plug the gaps on the right!" His voice cut clean through the noise, calm anchor in the storm.

You caught glimpses between kills: him sliding between two dracaenae, xiphos flashing in tight, economical arcs; him shoving a younger camper out of a whip’s path; him scanning the entire line like it was a living chessboard.

Then everything went wrong. A larger dracaena (leader, maybe) broke through a thin spot in the barrier. Eight feet of coiled muscle, coral spear longer than you were tall. She hissed triumph, eyes locking on the cluster of unarmored Athena kids still scrambling into position. Junhui was closest, back turned for a split second, shouting orders over his shoulder.

She lunged.

Time slowed.

You saw the spear rise, saw the killing arc descending toward his unprotected back.

You didn’t think. You ran. Feet pounding dirt, spear forgotten in favor of raw speed. You slammed into Junhui from the side, full tackle, shoulder driving into his ribs. You both went down hard, rolling across pine needles and roots. The coral spear whistled through the space where his heart had been, embedding in the earth with a thud that vibrated up your spine.

Pain exploded across your side: hot, wet. The dracaena hadn’t missed entirely. Her spear had raked a deep gash along your ribs as you shoved him clear. Blood soaked your shirt instantly, warm and sticky.

Junhui hit the ground beneath you, breath punched out of him. His eyes: wide, stunned, locked on yours.

For half a heartbeat, neither moved. Then reality crashed back. The dracaena reared, hissing fury. You rolled off him, staggering upright despite the fire in your side. Spear still in hand (somehow) you thrust blindly. Bronze met scale; she recoiled with a scream.

Junhui was up in the next second, faster than you’d ever seen him move. He grabbed your arm, dragged you behind the thick trunk of an oak. "Cover" he barked, voice cracking on the word.

You leaned against bark, breathing shallow. Blood dripped steadily onto the forest floor. "I’m fine" you lied through gritted teeth.

"You’re bleeding out" he snapped, actual anger in his tone, rare and sharp.

He tore a strip from the bottom of his camp shirt, pressed it hard against the wound. His hands were steady, clinical, but his face was pale, jaw locked so tight you thought it might crack.

"Hold this" he ordered.

You did. He stepped out from cover, shield raised, xiphos ready. "Stay down."

"Like Hades" you growled, shoving upright despite the dizziness.

He shot you a look, pure exasperation mixed with something rawer. "Don’t you dare die on me, reckless idiot."

The words landed like a punch. You stared.

He didn’t wait for a reply. He charged back into the fray, covering the retreat of the younger campers, drawing the leader dracaena’s attention. His movements were tighter now, angrier. Every strike precise and vicious. He disarmed her spear, slashed across her coils, forced her back step by step until an arrow from above finished her, golden dust exploding in a glittering cloud.

The rest of the raiding party faltered. Without their leader, coordination broke. Athena archers picked them off; Ares front-liners mopped up the stragglers. Within minutes the woods fell quiet again, save for the crackle of dissipating monster essence and the groans of the wounded.

Chiron’s voice boomed across the line. "Secure the perimeter! Healers to the front!"

Junhui appeared at your side again, breathing hard, ichor streaking his arms, a shallow cut above his eyebrow leaking blood into his lashes. He didn’t speak. Just hooked your arm over his shoulders and half-carried you toward the clearing where the Apollo kids were already setting up triage.

You tried to pull away. "I can walk."

"You can’t" he said flatly. "Shut up and let me."

You were too dizzy to argue. By the time you reached the infirmary tent, the adrenaline crash had hit full force. The world tilted; pain throbbed in time with your heartbeat. Apollo campers swarmed: nectar, gauze, hymns that glowed faintly gold.

Junhui stayed. He didn’t hover, didn’t pace. Just sat on a stool beside your cot, elbows on knees, hands clasped so tight his knuckles whitened. He watched every stitch, every application of salve, like he was memorizing the procedure in case he had to do it himself later.

When the head healer finally stepped back "She’ll be fine. Deep cut, but no organ damage. Rest, ambrosia, no training for a week" Junhui exhaled like he’d been holding the breath since the border.

The tent emptied slowly. Moonlight filtered through canvas, turning everything silver-blue. You shifted on the cot, wincing. "You gonna sit there brooding all night?"

He looked up. Eyes shadowed. "I’m not brooding."

"You’re doing a pretty good impression."

Silence stretched. Then, quietly "You didn’t have to do that."

You snorted, regretted it instantly as pain flared. "Yeah, well. Couldn’t let the camp’s favorite strategist get skewered. Who’d make all the annoying plans then?"

He didn’t smile. "You could have died."

"So could you."

"That’s different."

"How?"

He leaned forward, forearms on thighs. "Because I-" He stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. "I had the position. I should have seen the angle. The spear trajectory was obvious if I’d just-"

"Stop." You reached out, slow, careful and grabbed the front of his ruined shirt. "You were busy saving everyone else. That’s your thing. Mine’s the charging-in-like-an-idiot part."

His gaze dropped to where your fingers curled fabric. Then back to your face. Something flickered there, something unguarded, unguarded in a way you’d never seen from him.

"I hated it" he said, voice rough. "Watching that spear come down. Knowing I wouldn’t make it in time."

Your throat tightened. "Yeah. Well. I hated watching it too."

Another beat. He reached up, hesitant and covered your hand with his. Warm. Steady. Thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

"You scared me" he admitted, so soft you almost missed it.

You stared. Heart slamming against bruised ribs. Then, because words failed, you tugged him closer. He came without resistance. Foreheads touched, careful, mindful of wounds. Breathing mingled. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently into sweat-damp hair.

"I’m sorry" he whispered.

"For what?"

"For not seeing it sooner."

You huffed a small laugh. "Took you long enough, brainiac."

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. "I see it now."

The tent flap rustled, someone checking on patients. Junhui straightened, but he didn’t let go of your hand. Not yet.

"Rest" he said. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

You wanted to argue, habit, but exhaustion pulled too hard.

"Fine" you muttered. "But if you start debriefing me in my sleep, I’ll haunt you."

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. "Deal."

You drifted off with his hand still wrapped around yours, warm anchor in the dark.

Hours later, deep night, camp finally quiet, Junhui still sat there. He didn’t sleep. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, counted every breath like it was proof of something fragile and vital.

And for the first time in years, the relentless machinery of his mind went quiet. No calculations. No contingencies. Just you, alive, stubborn, impossible and the bone-deep certainty that he would burn every strategy he’d ever written if it meant keeping you that way.

The infirmary cot felt too small after that night at the border. The gash along your ribs healed faster than it had any right to, thank Apollo kids and a steady drip of nectar, but the scar it left was angry, pink and raised. Every time you twisted wrong in training or reached too far, it pulled, a sharp reminder of coral spear and the split-second decision that had put you between Junhui and death.

You avoided the arena for the mandated week. Chiron’s orders. Instead you haunted the edges of camp: the beach at dawn, the strawberry fields at dusk, the climbing wall when no one was looking. Anywhere that didn’t smell like pine needles and blood and the faint, clean scent of whatever soap Junhui used.

He didn’t crowd you. Didn’t hover. But he was there. A water bottle left on the porch railing of Cabin 5 when you came back sweaty from a solo run. A fresh roll of bandages slipped onto your bunk without comment. Once, you found a small jar of salve: Athena’s own recipe, handwritten label in his precise script, tucked under your pillow. "For scar tissue" the note read. Nothing else. No signature. Didn’t need one.

You hated how much it steadied you. The mandatory week ended on a Thursday. You were back in the arena by sunrise Friday, spear in hand, testing the limits of the new scar. It hurt, good hurt, the kind that reminded you you were still here, still fighting. You ran through forms alone until the sun climbed high and sweat soaked through your shirt.

Footsteps on the sand. You didn’t turn. "Thought you’d be here" Junhui said from the entrance arch.

You kept moving: thrust, parry, pivot. "Stalking me now?"

"Observing." Same old line. But his voice was quieter today. Less guarded.

You finally stopped, spear tip resting in the dirt. Turned.

He stood just inside the shadow of the colonnade, arms loose at his sides. No armor. Just camp shirt, dark shorts, hair slightly messy from whatever he’d been doing before this. The cut above his eyebrow had healed to a thin silver line. It suited him, made him look less like a statue and more like someone who bled the same as everyone else.

"You’re supposed to be resting" he said.

"I rested. Now I’m training."

He stepped forward, slow, deliberate. "You’re favoring your left side. The scar’s pulling."

You rolled your eyes. "I’m fine."

"You’re not."

The words weren’t accusatory. Just fact. Something in his tone made your stomach flip. You planted the spear butt harder. "What do you want, Junhui?"

He stopped a few feet away. Close enough that you could see the way his throat moved when he swallowed. "I want to spar."

You laughed, short, disbelieving. "You want to fight me? Now?"

"Not fight." He met your eyes. Steady. "Train. Properly. No holding back. No blindfolds. Just us."

Your pulse kicked up. "Why?"

"Because we’ve been dancing around this for months." His voice dropped. "And I’m tired of it."

The arena suddenly felt too quiet. No wind. No distant shouts from the beach. Just the two of you and the weight of everything unsaid.

You studied him, really studied. The faint tension in his shoulders. The way his fingers flexed once, then stilled. The look in his eyes that wasn’t calculation anymore. It was hunger.

"Fine" you said. Voice rougher than you meant. "But if I pin you, you admit I’m better."

His mouth curved, just a flicker. "And if I pin you?"

You stepped closer. "You won’t."

He exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. You both moved to the center circle. No shields this time. Just spear against xiphos. Bare feet on warm sand. The sun beat down, turning everything gold and sharp-edged.

You circled first, slow, testing. He mirrored you. No rush. No feints yet. Just eyes locked, breathing synced without meaning to. You struck first. Spear thrust, fast, aimed at his shoulder to force a dodge. He twisted inside your reach, xiphos flashing up to parry. Metal sang. You spun out, reversed the haft, cracked it toward his ribs. He blocked, barely, staggered half a step. Recovered instantly. Countered with a low slash that forced you to leap back.

"Sloppy" he said. Breath even.

"Shut up."

You went harder. Thrust-parry-thrust-feint-high-low. He read every move half a second before you finished it, dodging, deflecting, never quite retreating. You pushed him toward the edge of the circle. He let you. Then, sudden pivot, he hooked your spear haft with his blade, yanked, used your forward momentum to spin you. Your back hit his chest. His arm banded across your waist, tight, unyielding. The spear clattered to the sand. Pinned. Breath exploded out of you.

His mouth was at your ear. "Yield?"

You twisted, hard, elbow driving back toward his ribs. He anticipated, shifted, took the blow on his forearm instead. Didn’t let go. You stomped his instep. He grunted, pain, not surprise, but his grip only tightened.

"Yield" he repeated. Voice low. Rough.

You stopped struggling. Not surrender. Just… stillness. Your back pressed to his front. His heartbeat hammered against your spine, fast, unsteady. His breath stirred the hair at your nape.

"No" you whispered.

He turned you, slow, careful. Hands sliding to your hips. You let him. Faces inches apart. Sweat beaded on his temple. A drop slid down the side of his jaw. You reached up, slow, thumb brushing it away. His eyes darkened.

Then he kissed you. Not gentle. Not tentative. Desperate. Like he’d been holding the strategy back for too long and the entire plan had just collapsed. You kissed him harder, teeth, tongue, all the frustration and want and fear that had been building since the cyclops forge, since the border, since every single time he’d looked at you like you were the one variable he couldn’t solve.

Hands everywhere. Yours fisted in his shirt, yanking him closer. His slid under yours, palms hot against the small of your back, careful of the scar but not shying away. You bit his lower lip, sharp enough to make him groan into your mouth.

Clothes came off in pieces. Shirt, yanked over his head, tossed. Yours followed, careful around the ribs, but fast. Sand stuck to sweat-slick skin. You shoved him backward until his shoulders hit one of the wooden support posts.

He reversed, pinned you instead. Back to the post. Hands braced on either side of your head.

He pulled back just enough to look. Eyes searching yours, asking without words. You answered by dragging him back in. The kiss turned slower, deeper. His mouth moved to your jaw, your throat. You tipped your head back, fingers threading into his hair, tugging when he found the spot below your ear that made your knees weak.

He dropped to one knee, slow, eyes never leaving yours. Mouth trailing down sternum, ribs, pausing at the new scar. He pressed a kiss there, soft, reverent. Then another. And another.

You swallowed hard. "Junhui-"

He looked up. "I hated how close I came to losing this."

The words cracked something open inside you. You pulled him up, urgent, kissed him again. Hands roaming. His skin was fever-hot. You traced every line of muscle, every old scar, memorizing the way he shivered when your nails dragged lightly down his back.

He lifted you, effortless, your legs wrapping around his waist. Post at your back, his body pinning you there. The friction made you both gasp.

"Tell me to stop" he murmured against your lips.

"Don’t you dare."

He didn’t. He reached between you, slow, careful, checking. You nodded. He pushed in, slow at first, giving you time to adjust. The stretch burned sweet. You bit his shoulder to muffle the sound.

He groaned, low, wrecked. Then he moved. Steady rhythm at first, controlled, like everything he did. But you met him thrust for thrust, harder, hungrier. Nails digging into his shoulders. Legs tightening. His control frayed fast.

"Fuck" he breathed, rare curse, raw. "You’re-"

You cut him off with a kiss. Rolled your hips. Took him deeper. He lost the rhythm, became desperate. Faster. Harder. The post creaked behind you. Sand shifted under his feet.

You felt it building, tight coil low in your belly. His hand slid between you, fingers finding exactly where you needed. Precise. Perfect.

You shattered first, back arching, name tearing from your throat in a broken gasp.

He followed seconds later, burying his face in your neck, shuddering, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

For a long moment neither moved. Just breathing. Hearts slamming against each other. Sweat cooling on skin.

He eased you down slowly, careful, until your feet touched sand again. Didn’t let go. Forehead to yours.

You laughed, shaky. "We just..."

"Yeah."

You both exhaled at the same time. He kissed you again, soft this time. Slow. Like he was memorizing the taste.

When you finally pulled apart, you rested your head against his shoulder.

"I still think you’re a nerd" you muttered.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "And you’re still reckless."

You tilted your head back. "But you like it."

His thumb brushed your cheek. "More than like."

The admission hung there, simple. Heavy.

You swallowed. "Me too."

He smiled, small, real, unguarded.

You stayed like that until the sun dipped lower, tangled, sandy, bruised in the best ways.

Eventually you separated enough to gather scattered clothes. Dressed slowly. Shared glances. Small touches, a hand on his wrist, his fingers brushing your scar.

As you walked out of the arena together, shoulders brushing, the camp lights were just flickering on. Distant laughter from the pavilion. Normal sounds.

But nothing felt normal anymore.

At the fork in the path: one way to Ares cabin, one to Athena, he stopped. You turned. He looked at you, long, searching.

"Tomorrow?" he asked. Quiet.

You stepped closer. Kissed him once, brief, promising.

"Tomorrow" you said.

He nodded. You walked separate ways. But the space between didn’t feel empty. It felt like anticipation. Like the moment before a perfect strategy clicked into place.

The final Capture the Flag of the summer arrived on the last Saturday before most campers shipped back to mortal schools or whatever fragile normalcy waited beyond the border. The air smelled of pine, sea salt and anticipation thick enough to choke on. Chiron had announced the teams at breakfast that morning with his usual calm gravitas: "For this game, the blue team will be led jointly by Athena and Ares cabins. One strategy, one assault force. Work as one, or lose as two."

Groans had rippled through the pavilion. Traditionalists from both sides muttered about "mixing oil and water" but no one argued with Chiron. Not out loud.

You stood at the edge of the forest as the sun climbed, armor gleaming, spear balanced across your shoulders. The red boar banner still flew over Ares territory, but today it shared space with Athena’s silver owl stitched onto blue silk. A compromise. Junhui had suggested it the night before, quietly, over stolen kisses behind the armory.

"Symbols matter" he’d said against your mouth. "Let them see we’re not pretending anymore."

You’d rolled your eyes. "You and your metaphors."

He’d smiled, small, private. "You love them."

You hadn’t denied it. Now he stood beside you in full gear: dark leather reinforced with bronze at the shoulders and chest, xiphos at his hip, no shield. His hair was tied back, exposing the sharp line of his jaw and the faint scar above his brow. He looked calm. Focused. Like always. Except when his eyes met yours.

Then something warmer flickered there, something that made your pulse kick despite the weight of bronze on your shoulders.

"Ready?" he asked.

You twirled the spear once. "Born ready. You?"

He nodded once. "Plan’s locked. You remember your part?"

"Charge where you point. Improvise when I feel like it."

His mouth quirked. "Try to stick to the plan."

"No promises, brainiac."

He didn’t argue. Just brushed his knuckles against yours, brief, hidden by the angle of your bodies, before stepping forward to address the combined force.

Blue team gathered in a loose semicircle: Athena kids with bows, maps, and illusion runes; Ares siblings with spears, shields, and barely restrained grins. They watched Junhui with wary respect and you with familiar hunger for violence. The mix still felt strange, like handing a wolf a chess set, but no one questioned it. Not after the border fight. Not after the whispers had turned into open bets on whether you two would kill each other or end up sharing a bunk.

Junhui spoke first, voice carrying without shouting.

"Red team: Hephaestus, Hermes, Apollo, has the creek as their primary crossing. They’ll feint north with Hermes speed, then push hard south with Hephaestus traps. We let them think we’re defending the shallows like last time."

Murmurs. He raised a hand. "We’re not."

He knelt, traced lines in the dirt with his dagger, quick, precise.

"Archers and illusionists take the high ridge here. Create false movement, make them believe the north flank is weak. When they commit, we collapse the trap: Ares hits the south crossing in full force, funneled exactly where we want them. I’ll coordinate from the center ridge with signal flares. No deviations unless I call it."

Eyes turned to you. You stepped forward. "My job’s simple. We hit hard, we hit fast. Shields lock, spears low. No one breaks formation until we have their flag or they’re dust. If they scatter, we chase. If they trap us, we break through. Clear?"

Nods. Feral grins from your siblings.

Junhui met your gaze. "We move on the horn. Stay sharp."

The conch sounded. Game on. You led the Ares contingent south through the underbrush, silent at first, then building to the low thunder of boots and clanking bronze. Junhui’s signal flare arced overhead, green smoke, the go code. You broke cover at a dead run.

The south crossing was chaos exactly as planned. Hermes kids sprinted ahead, thinking they’d caught the flank open. Hephaestus traps: spiked pits, tripwires, waited in neat rows. But Athena archers had already marked them; blue flares burst above each one, warning your line.

You yelled "Shields!"

The front rank locked, bronze wall moving as one. You were at the center, spear thrusting through gaps, driving forward. A Hermes kid appeared on your left, dagger flashing. You bashed him with your shield rim, sent him sprawling. Behind the line, Junhui’s voice carried over the din, calm, precise. "Left shift, two degrees! Archers, suppress the ridge!"

Arrows hissed overhead. Red team faltered.

You pushed harder. The creek appeared, shallow here, rocks slick. Red team’s flag waved from a fallen log on the far bank, guarded by a knot of Hephaestus heavies in makeshift armor.

You grinned. "There it is."

Junhui appeared at your side, sudden, silent. He’d left the ridge, moving with the front line now. No hesitation.

"Flank left" he said low. "I’ll draw the center."

You nodded. No argument.

He broke right, fast, drawing attention. Red team pivoted toward him. You swung left with half your squad, splashing through the creek, using the distraction to close the distance.

Junhui fought clean: parry, dodge, strike, never wasting motion. A Hephaestus kid swung a hammer; Junhui ducked, hit tendons behind the knee, dropped him without killing intent. Another charged; Junhui sidestepped, used momentum to throw him into the creek.

You reached the log first. The flag guard, a burly Hephaestus girl with a massive shield, met you head-on. You slammed shield against shield, sparks flying. She pushed; you held. Then shoved hard. She staggered. You spun the spear haft, cracked it across her wrist. The shield dropped. You lunged, spear tip tapping her chest plate. "Out."

She cursed, stepped aside. Your hand closed on blue silk. Victory horn blasted, three long notes.

Blue team erupted. You raised the flag high, cheering with your siblings. Across the field, Athena kids whooped, quietly, but real. Junhui jogged up, breathing hard, ichor and sweat streaking his face.

You tossed him the flag. He caught it one-handed. Didn’t smile, just looked at you like you’d solved the last equation he’d never quite cracked.

Then he stepped forward, hooked a finger in your breastplate strap, and pulled you in.

Right there, in the middle of the creek, surrounded by cheering demigods and settling dust, he kissed you. Slow. Deep. Unhurried.

One hand cupped the back of your neck; the other stayed fisted in your armor. You kissed back, fierce, possessive, fingers threading into his damp hair.

The noise around you swelled: cheers, wolf-whistles, a few theatrical groans from the traditionalists. Someone's laugh boomed over everything: "About damn time!"

You broke apart only when air became necessary. Junhui rested his forehead against yours. "Told you brains and brawn work better together."

You huffed a laugh. "Took you long enough to admit it, nerd."

He smiled, small, real, unguarded. "Worth the wait."

Later, after the gear was stripped, wounds patched, and the pavilion rang with post-game stories, you found him by the lake.

Moonlight silvered the water. He sat on the same salt-bleached log where you’d once sharpened your spear and tried to hate him. Now he looked up as you approached and the look in his eyes was softer than you’d ever seen.

You sat beside him. Shoulders brushing.

"Some game" you said.

"Some team."

Silence stretched, comfortable. You nudged him. "You know they’re already making bets on how long before we kill each other."

"Let them bet." His fingers found yours, lacing together. "We’ve got better odds."

You snorted. "Optimist."

"Realist."

You leaned your head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek against your hair. The lake lapped quietly. Somewhere distant, the campfire crackled and campers sang off-key. Normal camp sounds.

But nothing felt normal anymore. It felt better.

"Next summer" he murmured, "we run the whole thing together again."

You tilted your head. "You asking me to co-captain?"

"I’m telling you we’re co-captains." A pause. "Unless you’d rather keep calling me predictable."

You laughed, quiet, warm. "Nah. I like keeping you on your toes."

He turned, kissed your temple. "Good. Because I like watching you charge in and ruin every perfect plan I make."

"Admit it, you love the chaos."

"I love you" he said simply.

The words landed soft. Certain.

You swallowed. Turned to face him fully.

"Love you too, brainiac."

He smiled, slow, devastating. Then he pulled you in again, kissing you under the stars, lake at your feet, camp at your back.