#kunhang

He shrugs, still unabashedly grinning. "Come on, Y/n. It’s not like anyone would willingly listen to this crap."

The kindly old uncle manning the Xerox machine had gone to grab another ream of copier paper from storage and had left you and your best friend standing at the counter. It was your turn to make photocopies of tonight's assigned packet for an entire laboratory class of 25 students and your best friend had insisted on coming with you. You’d reassured him that you knew your way to the one machine in uni and could manage 25 sets of lab worksheets on your own. He came anyway, prattling on about last night's gaming session with the boys and practically skipping next to you.

People often wondered why someone as outgoing and chatty as him hung out with a stick in the mud like you. You wondered about that too, but you always answered their question with your own working hypothesis: “First year, Gen Ed. Prof had a seatplan.”

Those damned assigned seating charts could create lasting friendships or enduring enmity; everybody knew that. It made no difference to you though, as you were too shy to make friends and people thought you were too aloof to approach. It wasn't something you were seeking to remedy either- you had always kept to yourself, keeping a very small circle of friends since middle school that you still kept in contact with despite all of you going off to different universities. Oh, you could be perfectly friendly and conversational with your classmates, but that was more of an adaptation a student had to learn to survive in academia. You were reclusive enough that once the group project was over, you wouldn't be invited to hang out anymore. You should probably make more of an effort, but you were too set in your own ways. There was no reason for this class to be any different.

Except when you plopped your bag down onto your assigned seat, amid groans and complaints from some 40 freshmen at being separated from their friends, Hendery had greeted you with a bright grin and a cheery, “Hiya seatmate! Gonna be a great year, huh?”

You were so gobsmacked by such energy before 8 am that you spoke one sentence more than you usually would. "Uh, hi. Sure, that would be nice, would make the school year fly by."

"Here, this is yours, right?" He handed you your prized Pilot Gtec Pen.

You liked sitting in the front, close to the doors for a quick getaway. And when the professor had handed you the attendance sheet for day one of the semester, you'd carelessly passed your pen along with the clipboard. Once the sheet had made its way back to the prof but the pen was not back with you, you knew it was gone. Those things had a way of disappearing into another dimension if you didn't grip them tightly enough.

But here it was. "Wow, thanks. How'd you know it was mine?" You take it gratefully.

He shrugged. "The attendance sheet started with you. My Kun-ge is doing his Masters here and he only uses this brand of pens. Wouldn't bat an eyelash if you used his shampoo but would get pissy if you borrowed his pens."

"Perfectly reasonable. Tell him I recommend the Zebra Sarasa too."

"Great, thanks. I lost two of his pens last week," he grinned sheepishly. "I need to give him a peace offering."

You laughed at that.

You, making conversation with a stranger and actually having fun. The earth’s poles might as well have shifted, as history was made.

So there you both were three years later, at the Xerox counter at dusk, listening in mild horror as the seemingly harmless folk, rock, and country radio station stopped playing the nice oldies and moved on to the day’s next program: an ultra-conservative pundit doing a hate-filled monologue. You'd turned away from the little transistor radio in reflexive disgust, which is why you had completely missed Hendery leaning half his body over the counter to change radio stations. You were now half-heartedly arguing in whispers and hisses, lest the old man hear you, while your best friend was reaching for the dial again and you were telling him to mind the jar of candies his elbows were about to waste.

He won in the end. Or rather, you let Hendery win because the bellicose dude on the radio was now waxing poetic about alpha-ness and you were about to die from cringe. Your best friend whoops in triumph as the station jumps to static, then disco, then static, then stocks forecast, then static again. You concede defeat gracefully, leaning back against the far wall and watching him with a soft smile. Over the four years that you'd known him, Hendery had equal parts changed and stayed the same- his smile, his hair color, his determination to enjoy life, his pretty face. But there was something in his eyes that wasn’t there when you first met him. People changed, you knew that, but… well. Freshman year, Hendery would yell in greeting, fist bump you, then call you bro, and now he was… different. He seemed… calmer? A better listener…? More thoughtful? You couldn't quite put your finger on it and it equal parts intrigued and unnerved you that your best friend was changing right under your nose. He stopped dragging his boisterous and funny friends to your hangouts (unless prompted by you because they were your friends now too), stopped jokingly setting you up with the no-i-swear-he's-pretty-cool guys he met at the student union, he no longer waved his Tinder matches in your face, and stared at you when you spoke to him not with a goofy grin ready to make you laugh but an attentiveness and care that told you as you wish. Yes, you really didn't know what this was. And yet, not once did he make you uncomfortable; never, once he’d sworn his number one priority was your ease and comfort, but not even before he made that promise.

He walks over to you to join you against the wall, finally satisfied with whatever the radio was playing. You match each other's posture perfectly: back flat against the wall, hands clasped behind you, one foot crossed over the other at the ankle. You both crane your necks to watch the evening sky. Dusk had just settled, the sky a beautiful but melancholy watercolor of bruise-like blues and purples, interrupted here and there by the twinkle of some lone star. The rain had long cleared, clouds gently pushed away by an evening breeze. Hendery looked impossibly soft in this light, familiar and comforting as long as he didn't look into your eyes. You tugged at your cardigan, feeling both warm and cold at the same time.

“He’s taking a long time.” you say quietly.

Hendery only nods, already knowing you were actually unconcerned. You had time.

You feel rather than hear Hendery’s fingers tap out the melody of the song, and you close your eyes to avoid the temptation of staring at him while he was this close-

“What does that mean?”

You frown and straighten, thoughts interrupted. The song playing now was in your native language, which you spoke so often around Hendery that he could recognize it. Though, you were yet to teach him anything besides profanities.

“Huh, who knew this station played… anyway, um…” you paused, listening to the next few lines. “It’s a love song. The guy is confessing his feelings to the girl he loves, he tells her she’s the only one who makes him feel this way." you translated for him. "She’d wanted to wait but now, he says, something has changed… and if she does feel the same, if she’s ready, he’d like her to dance with him in the rain.”

Hendery says nothing. The long silence makes your cheeks heat up. “I know it's cheesy. And it’s cliche, this thing about slow dancing in the rain… but the way it’s sung… the lyrics… it’s tender and sweet. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

"No, it's a good song." he says. “I get it.”

“Makes one of us.” you say wryly.

Another lull in the conversation. It wasn't awkward but the air was somehow hung with things you should probably tell each other.

"You have something on your mind." you both said at the same time. You laugh.

"You first." he nodded at you.

You sigh, scuffing your shoe against the floor. Hendery patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts.

"Is it wrong to be wary of change? Like, you just feel and know that there's this something that's never going to be the same..." you say haltingly.

His gaze grows piercing for a few seconds, as if suspicious that you were on to something. Then, the expression is gone as quickly as it crossed his face. "Change always happens you know, whether we anticipate it or not."

"I know, it's just..." that brief moment just now, where Hendery looked like he was waiting for you to call him out, was best left for him to discuss. You at least respected him that much. "I always thought of college as a layover. This was always gonna be a brief stop on this journey that I'm plodding on. I know it sounds awful but that was kinda why I had no plans to make deep, meaningful connections. I was naïve enough to think that this was going to be a grab-your-degree-and-go operation. Is that rude?"

He shakes his head no. Encouraged, you go on.

"But now that I have, with our mutual friends, with student orgs I recently had the confidence to apply for, with you..."

He frowns, leaning in. "Y/n, it's one thing to be wary of change, which is perfectly natural by the way. It's another thing to be scared of losing us."

Your eyes search his face. "I'm being silly, of course. It's normal for friendships to fade and settle into just... resigned fondness after college. Right?" you say unsurely.

He crosses his arms. "I mean, people grow and change all the time. A good friend in college can become a total stranger by the time you reconnect for the 20-year reunion. But sometimes, with friendships, it's all in how you cultivate it. Some people would find the idea of talking to the same people after leaving uni loyal and sentimental, others would think it sad and pathetic. It's up to them to work that out."

You nod, surprised and not at the quiet, practical wisdom that Hendery could sometimes spring up on people. "What, them as in you and me?" you say teasingly.

"Oh no, that was a hypothetical. You're kinda stuck with me now, we're nonnegotiable," he jokes.

"Oh yes, please. I want you to stay in my life, in any capacity that works." you laugh, only to stop short as you realize exactly what you had said. You blink rapidly, cheeks pink, and throat swallowing nervously. You rack your brain frantically for something to say, grasping at straws until you finally choke out: "Your turn."

He stares at you for a long time without saying anything, gaze more intense than any other time he's looked at you. "Turn to what?"

"To tell me what's on your mind." you say as evenly as you could manage.

"Alright," his tone was too neutral. "What did you mean Y/n, when you said you didn't get that song?"

You blink, surprised at the direction this conversation was taking. "What song?"

"The last one, the one about slow dancing in the rain."

"Oh. Well, I just meant that I don't know how that feels. Someone confessing to you by asking you to dance, I mean. Or even just slow dancing in general."

He raises an eyebrow inquiringly, pulling away from the wall. “Never done it.” you explained.

He stares at you. “You’ve been to weddings. And you went to prom, I saw the pictures.”

It was such a simple and harmless assumption that you had to laugh. You make a small ta-da gesture at how you’re leaned against the wall. “Wallflower. When you blend in so well, nobody notices you to want to dance with you.”

Another pregnant pause between you two. He shoves his hands into his pockets, watching you thoughtfully as the next song plays. You tactfully avoid his gaze, focusing on the song instead.

The drums come in, the vocals double up, and Hendery walks closer to you, his frame blocking your view of the sky. You can’t read his face as his hand slowly reaches around you to gently tug one of your hands out from behind your back. The gentle motion forces you to straighten up.

"What are you doing?" you say warily.

He smiles a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “I have noticed you, Y/n. I do see you.”

He keeps your hand in his warm grasp, walks you both closer to the radio, lets you go for a moment so he can turn up the volume, then returns to face you square on. Mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening, you let his fingers drift from your wrist to properly clasp your hand. He gently guides your other hand and places it on his shoulder and, very slowly and watching your face for any signs of discomfort, he pulls you closer.

Oh.

"Oh no, we don't have to, Hendery. I wasn't baiting you into it." you laugh lamely.

"I know, but I want to."

"Anyway, I never learned how to." you fret with a rueful smile, trying to pull away.

But he's persistent. "That's it? Is that your only objection?" Though, he keeps his grip light and loose, so you can pull away whenever you want.

Was it? Your best friend was standing closer than he'd physically ever been; two more steps and you could count his eyelashes. He had an arm around you and you were holding his hand, things good friends were bound to do, but the way it felt tonight was making you breathe shallowly. And with the way you two have been slipping up tonight and saying things left unspoken over the past four years, things could change irreversibly. You nod. Yes, that was your only objection.

“It’s all in the leading. You can trust me, Y/n.” He smiles easily.

“Of course I can.” You were as certain of that fact as you were sure of your own name. He nods.

It does feel a little silly, dancing with your best friend in a Xerox shop to the song on a scratchy, old radio. Your self-consciousness and stiffness makes the first few steps little more than an awkward shuffle… until it wasn’t anymore. Somewhere between verses, your muscles relax and obey the gentle press of his hand on the small of your back. Pulled in, you bravely close the shy distance you'd put between you two. Somewhere between choruses, your gaze is finally drawn away from your surroundings to look up into his eyes, where the stars that should've been visible in the sky tonight seemed to have migrated to. You connect the stars, and see that constellation you've been trying to figure out all this time but was a smidge too unobservant to read correctly was unmistakable in it's brightness tonight. The realization hits you as one’s head might hit the pillow after a difficult week: your best friend was in love with you.

"Hendery." you whisper.

Pressed close to each other's bodies, you feel rather than hear the inquiring hum he makes. You shake your head mentally to rid yourself of the goosebumps.

“It isn’t raining”, you comment, unable to help yourself. “He asks her to dance with him in the rain if she feels the same.”

“You’re dancing with me anyway.” he murmurs.

You nod, knowing he understands the answer written on your face. He gazes at you, taking his time reading the words you were going to tell him after class. Somewhere during the next song, you feel yourself finally letting out such an exhale that you let your guard down. You lean in to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes and, for the first time in a while, quieten down the loud and ever-present thoughts in your head. What could there be to worry about? You were slow-dancing with Hendery.

Hendery subtly presses his lips against your hair and thanks… God? Venus? Or was it Aphrodite? The paper cranes he folded that one time the power went out? That shooting star he saw when Yangyang and Xiaojun locked him out on the fire escape? He didn’t know how this happened, who/what made this happen but he’s here- finally here. This was an accident, for sure. No one could’ve guessed you’d be seated next to each other that one day in first year, or that you were more fun than you’d let on, or that he'd like spending time with you this much, or that his friends would like you too and drag you into the group, or that it would lead to you being a presence in all the important moments of his life (basketball games, birthdays, Christmas parties, grocery runs, landlord disputes, finals week breakdowns), or that his little crush would get so alarmingly serious that instead of just being present, he'd want you to be a permanent fixture in his life, or that you’d make him (him, of all people) grow from childish and immature to caring and loyal. No, this was no accident; this was a miracle, the kind that creeps up on you.

He makes a mental note to make an anonymous call to that radio station and compliment them on their good taste. Then maybe ask them for their playlist.

-

The music pulsed through the crowded house, a deep bassline that vibrated in Y/n’s chest as she stood near the entrance, scanning the room. People were laughing, their costumes a wild mix of horror and humor, faces painted with skulls, fake blood, and cheap masks. She hadn’t really wanted to come, but her friend had insisted, dragging her along to the supposed biggest Halloween party of the year at some random University dudes house.

Y/n adjusted the sleeves of her costume, feeling a bit out of place but determined to enjoy the night. She clutched her cup, already half-empty with some brightly colored concoction she didn’t recognize. It was strong, judging by the slight buzz that tingled at the edges of her mind. 

It wasn't that Y/n wasn’t a party person, she actually enjoyed parties every now and then. But today was just an off day for her.

Her friend had already disappeared into the crowd, leaving Y/n to fend for herself. She wasn’t sure what to do next, join the throng on the makeshift dance floor, or maybe find a corner and people-watch. The place was nice, though. Too nice, really. The grand entryway and the wide, high-ceilinged rooms made her feel like she had stepped into a mansion. It seemed way too luxurious for just a Halloween party. 

But, everything was fine. 

She took a sip from her cup, trying to focus on the laughter around her, the clinking of glasses, and the chatter of the partygoers. No need to be so tense, she told herself. This was supposed to be fun. 

Her eyes drifted to the far end of the room, where a figure stood motionless against the wall, dressed in a fully black, head-to-toe bodysuit. White details were cut out in the shape of a face. Hollow, exaggerated features that made it impossible to tell where his eyes were, or if he was even looking at her. The stark contrast of the white against the black made him stand out, but the whole costume had this funny, slightly absurd edge to it. Looking down the persons hand, they were holding a prop wrench.

She couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. Maybe some abstract ghost? A shadow something-or-other? The costume was strange, but in the middle of a Halloween party full of zombies and witches, it wasn’t the strangest thing. And for some reason, it made her smile. 

She wasn’t sure if they were watching her, or just looking out at the crowd in general. It was unnerving not being able to see their eyes. But the stillness in their posture and the odd costume made them feel almost harmless in a weird way. She chuckled to herself, wondering what their deal was.

"Hey," someone suddenly called from her left, interrupting her thoughts. Her friend waved from across the room, holding up another drink. “You having fun yet?”

Y/n nodded, though she wasn’t so sure. "Yeah, it’s...good."

Her friend just nodded, her donkey ears shaking as she did, before disappearing into the crowd again. 

Y/n couldn’t quite remember when she had signed up for a Shrek-themed group costume with her friends, but at that moment, it hardly mattered. She stood there in a green dress with gold accents, along with a cute tiara, a striking nod to Princess Fiona, and embraced the whimsical absurdity of it all.

And yet, as she looked around, something felt...just a little bit off. Not enough to notice right away, but there was a tension in the air, a subtle shift, like a wrong note in a song. She shook it off, blaming it on the alcohol.

It was just a Halloween party, after all. Everything was fine. 

-

Another hour passed, and with it, another few drinks. Y/n felt lighter now, her head pleasantly fuzzy as the alcohol took hold. The nerves that had tightened her shoulders earlier had loosened, and she found herself swaying to the music, even though the beat wasn’t steady. Was it always this off-key? It didn’t matter. Everything felt a little blurry, like the edges of the room had softened.

Her thoughts wandered as she moved, the rhythm of the crowd pulling her in, and for a while, she forgot about the oddness that had nagged at her earlier. The drinks helped with that. She smiled as her friend passed by, throwing an arm around her shoulder for a moment before disappearing again into the crowd of people.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

Yet, there was still this slight undercurrent of wrongness that tugged at her every now and then. The laughter around her seemed a little too loud at times, and the way the people moved, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was...not right. The way their bodies swayed or turned, it almost felt like they were moving in fast-forward for a second, then slowing down again. Or maybe it was just her imagination. 

Blame it on the drinks, she told herself, letting out a breath. 

She glanced back toward the far end of the room, expecting to see that strange guy in the black bodysuit still standing there. But this time, they weren’t. She blinked, scanning the area. Where had they gone? She wasn’t sure why she felt relieved, and maybe a little disappointed at the same time. 

Shaking her head, she let the music take her again. Whatever, it was just a party. She was just tipsy, that was all.

Y/n swayed to the music, her movements a little uncoordinated but carefree as the alcohol kept her in a pleasant haze. The room spun lazily around her, bodies pressed close in the crowd, everyone lost in their own rhythm. She moved with them, letting herself be carried by the pulse of the party.

As she took a step back, her elbow suddenly collided with something, someone. She spun around, an apology already forming on her lips. 

"Oh, sorry!" she blurted out, laughing at her clumsiness.

Her words caught in her throat when she looked up. It was them, the guy in the black bodysuit, the one with the cut-out white face details. They stood just inches away from her now, the hollow, featureless face of his costume staring back at her. 

For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to react. She couldn’t see their eyes, couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or through her. But they didn’t move. Didn’t speak. They just stood there, completely still, and she couldn’t shake the odd sensation that rolled over her. It was like hitting a wall, cold and unyielding.

"Uh, I…sorry again," Y/n mumbled, her voice a bit more hesitant this time.

They didn’t respond. But then, slowly, they tilted their head just a fraction to the side, as if acknowledging her apology. Or was it a question? It was hard to tell.

She gave a small, awkward smile, stepping back a bit to create space. “Cool costume,” she added, trying to fill the silence, though her nerves spiked slightly. The longer she looked at them, the more surreal they felt. Why had they shown up so suddenly? Had they been watching her?

Just as Y/n was about to turn away, the figure suddenly spoke. 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice smooth and calm, cutting through the noise around them.

She froze for a second. She hadn’t expected him to speak at all, let alone sound so... normal. Something about hearing that voice from beneath the eerie costume threw her off balance. The alcohol must have made her slower to react, because instead of feeling uneasy, she found herself chuckling softly.

“Oh…uh, yeah, no problem,” she said, her words slipping out a little too casually. She shook her head, amused by how surprised she’d been. It was just a costume, after all. 

“You look shocked..” The figure said. 

“You…talk,” she said, laughing at her own words. It sounded ridiculous as soon as it came out, but the tension that had built up in her chest loosened, and she shook her head. "I didn't expect that."

He breathed out a small laugh. "Why wouldn’t I?" he asked, the tone neutral but almost amused. 

Y/n shrugged, unable to stop herself from smiling now. “I dunno. You just look…mysterious.” She waved a hand vaguely at his suit, the white face details still making it impossible for her to gauge where he was actually looking. "Like you’re not supposed to talk, y’know?"

“Maybe I’m not,” he said, his words lingering in the air like the punchline of an inside joke only he understood. There was a slight edge to his voice, one that almost reminded her of a line from some old thriller movie she couldn’t quite remember.

She snorted, her smile widening. “Creepy,” she teased, feeling the warmth of the alcohol surge again, making her brave enough to play along with whatever strange game this was. 

Y/n tilted her head, the alcohol still making everything feel just a little blurry. “So…what exactly are you supposed to be?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Detective Conan Killer.”

She raised her eyebrows, the name only vaguely familiar. “Huh. Okay, didn’t expect that.” She smiled, trying to piece together what she remembered about the reference, but her brain was too foggy to connect the dots.

“And you,” he added, “Princess Fiona, right?”

Y/n blinked in surprise. “Yeah, how’d you guess?”

He gave a subtle nod toward her dress, mirroring Princess Fiona’s iconic look. “Kind of hard to miss. Besides, I’m pretty sure I saw a donkey and a ginger cat running around earlier. Looks like your friends have the rest of the theme covered.”

She laughed, the mental image of her friends dressed as Donkey and Puss in Boots running around the party too funny not to. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said, shaking her head with a grin. “I don’t even remember when I agreed to this whole Shrek theme, but here I am, dressed like a princess.”

“You wear it well,” he said simply, his voice carrying that same calm that somehow made her feel both at ease and slightly on edge.

Feeling a burst of confidence, Y/n extended her hand with a playful grin. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Should have said that eailer”

He chuckled softly, a sound that somehow felt warm. “Nice to meet you too, Y/n. I’m Hendery, the host of the party.”

With that, he reached up and carefully removed the headpiece of his bodysuit, peeling it away to reveal his face. Y/n blinked in surprise, taking a moment to process the sudden shift. Underneath the stark black fabric, he looked completely normal, just a guy with tousled hair and an easy smile. Well, normal was an understatement, he was fucking gorgous. 

“Wow, you actually are a normal person,” she said, a laugh escaping her lips. “I wasn’t sure if you were some sort of spooky thing under there or something or something.” 

Hendery grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Just a regular guy having a bit of fun. But the costume does add a bit of mystery, don’t you think?” 

“Definitely,” Y/n replied, her heart racing a little faster. The tension she felt earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced by a lightness that came with getting to know the host of the party. 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile. “It’s good to put a face to the mystery,” she said, her gaze softening as she took in the features of the guy who had been standing in the shadows. 

Hendery raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I aim to surprise.”

She laughed, feeling the weight of the strange atmosphere lift just a little more. “Well, you succeeded. I think I’ll grab another drink,” she said, glancing back at Hendery. “Want anything?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “I’m good for now. Enjoy.”

“Alright, be right back!” she called over her shoulder as she made her way through the crowd, the buzz of laughter and chatter enveloping her once more. 

As she stepped into the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted slightly. The sounds of the party faded into a muffled background hum, and the bright fluorescent lights illuminated the room, making it feel a bit more grounded compared to the dim, shadowy corners of the main area. 

She opened the fridge, scanning the contents. A kaleidoscope of drinks stared back at her, sodas, juices, and a few more bottles of alcohol. After grabbing a sparkling drink she could barely read the label of, she poured it into a cup and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to catch her breath.

It felt good to be away from the crowd of bodies, even for just a moment. She took a sip, the refreshing fizz tingling on her tongue, and let herself think about Hendery. There was something intriguing about him, something that both drew her in and kept her on her toes. 

As Y/n took another sip of her drink, she glanced around the kitchen, noticing a few other partygoers scattered about. But something felt...off. The people weren’t moving. They stood too still, frozen in place like statues, their conversations muted and their faces blank, as if they were waiting for something. 

Her brow furrowed as unease crept into her chest. It was subtle at first, a strange tightness that made her shift uncomfortably where she stood. The longer she looked, the stranger it became. The way they stood, so stiff and lifeless, made her skin prickle. One person by the sink seemed to be holding a cup, but they weren’t doing anything. Not drinking, not pouring, nothing. Another sat at the table, staring straight ahead, not blinking. 

She blinked hard, rubbing her eyes, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Maybe it was just the alcohol messing with her vision. Or maybe she had stayed too long in this room, away from the noise and energy of the main party. But no matter how much she tried to reason with herself, the atmosphere was wrong. 

The air felt too thick, the silence in the room too deep, and the stillness of the people too unnatural. She swallowed hard, the bad feeling now settling low in her stomach.

“...What the fuck…” she muttered under her breath, feeling a sudden urge to leave the kitchen.

Without wasting another second, she took her drink and quickly made her way back toward the living room, the once-familiar-ish hallway now feeling a bit longer, a bit darker, as she hurried through it. 

The thrum of the music and the lively chatter washed over her again, a welcome contrast to the unnerving silence she’d just escaped.

When she spotted Hendery, relief washed over her. He was exactly where she’d left him, standing by the wall, casual and calm, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed the party around him. His presence felt solid, normal. 

“There you are,” she breathed, feeling a bit of tension release from her shoulders as she approached him. His smile widened when he saw her.

“Back already? That was quick,” he teased lightly, eyes glinting with amusement.

Y/n tried to smile back, but something in her chest still felt tight. She glanced around the room, scanning the crowd, but the strange feeling from the kitchen lingered. “Yeah...I, uh...” She hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know, man, something feels weird. Like, really weird.”

He wiped his head around to her, his eyes sharpening. “Weird how?”

She took a breath, trying to steady herself. “I was in the kitchen, and everyone in there was just...off. Like, too still. It was freaky. And the more I think about it, the more this whole place feels wrong. Not your house or anything! But…the party, the people, something’s not right.” Her voice wavered a little as she spoke, the uneasy sensation creeping back into her chest.

Hendery listened quietly, his expression calm as ever, though his gaze never left her. “Too still, huh?” he said softly, as if testing the words. “I guess I can see how that might feel...strange.”

She rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort. “I mean, maybe it’s just the drinks, or the fact that this place feels like a maze, but...I don’t know. I can’t shake the feeling.” Her eyes flicked to the room again. People were moving, sure, but every now and then she caught sight of someone lingering too long in one place, staring for just a second too long. The subtle wrongness nagged at her.

Hendery stepped a little closer, his presence reassuring despite her growing anxiety. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m sure everything is fine,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “You’re with me now. Just breathe.” His smile was warm, his calmness wrapping around her like a safety net.

For a moment, Y/n let herself relax, trusting his soothing words, though that nagging feeling at the back of her mind refused to fully disappear. Something was wrong, but standing next to Hendery, she felt just a little bit safer. 

Sensing her unease, Hendery gently placed a hand on her arm. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you out of here for a bit.”

Before she could respond, he began leading her through the crowd, his touch light but steady. Y/n followed him, grateful for the escape, weaving past partygoers as they made their way to a side hallway she hadn’t noticed before. The noise of the party started to fade, replaced by the softer sounds of their footsteps as Hendery guided her into a smaller living room tucked away from the chaos.

The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from a nearby lamp casting a warm, golden light across the space. Unlike the main area, this room felt quieter, untouched by the buzzing energy of the party. It was almost peaceful.

“There,” Hendery said, nodding toward a plush couch. “Take a breather.”

Y/n sank onto the couch, letting out a long exhale. The stillness of the room was a welcome relief, a stark contrast to the strange, unsettling energy outside. She hadn’t even realized how tightly she’d been wound until now.

Hendery sat beside her, not too close but near enough to offer comfort. “I figured you might need a break. Parties can get overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, rubbing her temples. “I just...everything out there feels so off. I don’t know how to explain it. Sorry.”

Hendery nodded, watching her carefully. “It happens. Sometimes these things just hit you out of nowhere.” His voice was soothing, calm as ever. “But you’re safe here.”

She glanced at him, his reassuring presence making her feel grounded again, if only for a moment. “Thanks, Hendery,” she said, her voice a little quieter now. “I don’t know why, could be the drinks, but I feel better around you.”

He smiled softly, his expression as warm and untroubled as ever. “Good. You deserve to feel better.”

For a brief second, Y/n let herself relax into the couch, the comfort of the quiet room, and the sense of safety Hendery gave her. But as she sat there, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder why the rest of the house felt so...wrong.

As they settled into the quiet of the small living room, Y/n leaned back into the couch, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort. Hendery, sensing her tension, shifted in his seat and grinned playfully.

“So,” he began, “you like me costume, Detective Conan Killer, huh?” Hendery suddenly asked. A little confused, Y/n chuckled a little and nodded.

“Honestly, I didn’t think many people would get the costume. I decided I’d have to explain it all night. But hey, at least I’m not dressed as something worse, like...I don’t know, a sexy traffic cone.”

Y/n couldn’t help but snort, the mental image instantly brightening her mood. “Yeah, definitely dodged a bullet there.”

He nodded, pretending to look deep in thought. “Or imagine me as a giant banana. It’d be hard to look mysterious in that, wouldn’t it? I'd be slipping up everywhere.”

She chuckled, finally relaxing a bit. “Yeah, I think the spooky bodysuit of a killer was the right call.”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “Plus, how many people can say they’ve been mildly freaked out by a guy who looks like a walking shadow? It’s an experience, right?”

Y/n laughed again, this time more freely. Hendery’s lightheartedness was starting to break through the eerie cloud that had been hovering over her.

“And speaking of costumes,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms, “I gotta say, Fiona suits you. You’ve got the princess vibe down…minus the whole ‘turning into an ogre at night’ thing, I hope.”

“Hey, don’t jinx me,” she shot back with a grin. “You never know what could happen after midnight.”

“Oh no,” he said, eyes wide in mock horror. “If I see you start sprouting green ears, I’m out of here. But, for now, you’re safe. Just keep your ogre side in check.”

Y/n laughed harder than she had all night, the weight on her shoulders easing with every joke. Hendery had a knack for saying the right thing, for diffusing the strange tension that had been gnawing at her.

“See?” Hendery said, smiling at her. “Laughter works wonders. A little humor goes a long way.”

She shook her head, still chuckling. “Yeah, you’re right. You’ve definitely got a talent for making things feel less weird.”

He winked. “I’m just here to entertain, milady.”

As Y/n’s laughter died down, she noticed the way Hendery’s smile lingered, his eyes never leaving hers. The playful light in his gaze shifted slightly, softening into something warmer.

“You know,” he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “the Fiona costume is great, but I think it’s not just the dress that makes it work.” His gaze traveled over her, a subtle admiration in his eyes. “You’ve got this...presence. You light up the room. I noticed it the second you walked in.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. “Oh, um...thanks,” she replied, feeling a bit of heat rise to her cheeks. The playful air between them seemed to shift slightly, becoming charged with something else entirely.

Hendery leaned in just a little, still maintaining that easy smile. “I mean it. You’ve been hard to miss all night. Even in a crowd like this.” His voice was smoother now, the teasing edge replaced by something more sincere. “I’m glad we got a chance to talk.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered unexpectedly at his words, and she shifted in her seat, her earlier discomfort momentarily forgotten. “I didn’t think I stood out that much,” she said, her voice lighter, almost shy.

Hendery chuckled softly. “Trust me, you do. There’s something about you that...well, let’s just say I’m not the only one who noticed.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I’m glad I’m the one sitting here with you now.”

His gaze lingered on her face, the intensity in his eyes making her stomach do a little flip. The easy jokes had given way to a more personal, almost magnetic energy. It was like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them in this quiet, dimly lit room.

“You know,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “I’ve never been a big fan of loud parties, but I think this one’s turning out pretty well, don’t you?”

Y/n felt her pulse quicken at his words, the warmth in his tone sending a soft thrill through her. “Yeah,” she murmured, her lips curling into a small smile. “I think so too.”

Hendery’s smile grew, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned back a bit, still holding onto that teasing charm. “Good. Because I’d hate to think you’re not having fun...especially when I’m trying so hard to make it a night you won’t forget.”

As Y/n smiled at his comment, Hendery shifted a little closer, his leg brushing against hers. The warmth of the contact sent a subtle shiver up her spine, and she became acutely aware of the small space between them, too small now, and growing smaller with every second.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “I was hoping to meet you tonight...”

She could feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering, making her pulse quicken. He wasn’t just being playful anymore, there was a seriousness in his tone that made the air between them feel thick, charged with something new. She met his eyes, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world blurred into the background. There was just Hendery, closer now, his attention fully on her.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked, her voice quieter, the playfulness in her tone replaced by curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She felt her heart beat faster in her chest, each thump in sync with the growing tension in the room.

Hendery’s smile turned into something softer, but more intense, like he was seeing her in a way no one else had all night. “I mean…not to sound weird, but I’ve seen you around. You’re...captivating.”

Her breath hitched at the word. Captivating. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol still buzzing in her system, or the way Hendery was looking at her, but the room suddenly felt warmer, the space between them shrinking further. 

He reached up, lightly brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers grazing her skin just enough to leave a trail of warmth in their wake. “I can’t help but want to know more about you,” he said, his voice now just above a whisper, the intimacy in his words making her stomach flip.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes, dark, intense, and focused entirely on her. The goofy guy in the black suit had disappeared, replaced by someone who was completely present, and entirely interested in her. She could feel the tension between them now, palpable and electric, like the air just before a storm.

“I...” she started, her voice trailing off as she tried to steady her racing heart. But it was hard to focus on anything other than the way his gaze was drawing her in, making it harder to think clearly.

Hendery leaned in even closer, his face now inches from hers, the heat from his body radiating toward her. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice sending a shiver through her. “This...thing between us.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, the air between them thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made it hard to breathe. She could feel her own body responding, every nerve on high alert, her skin tingling from his proximity.

“I do,” she whispered back, barely finding her voice.

His eyes flickered down to her lips for just a second before meeting her gaze again, his voice low and teasing. “Then why don’t we stop pretending?”

Just as their faces hovered inches from each other, Y/n felt something strange. The warmth between them, the pull, the intensity, was suddenly overshadowed by something else. It wasn’t the kind of butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling she’d expect in a moment like this. No, this was something colder, emptier.

She blinked, her breath catching as a strange stillness washed over her. It was as if the entire world around them had vanished, but not metaphorically. The music, the hum of voices, the distant laughter, all of it was gone. She pulled back, her eyes darting around the room, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

It was silent. Completely, unnervingly silent.

“Hendery...” she murmured, her voice shaking slightly as she looked up at him.

He didn’t speak, but the way his expression shifted told her everything. He knew something. She could see it in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his hand subtly tightened on her arm. “Don’t,” he said softly, almost pleading.

But Y/n’s unease only grew. She stood abruptly, her pulse racing now, the earlier sense of safety evaporating as a deep sense of wrongness settled in. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice thin as she glanced toward the door, suddenly desperate to know what was outside this room.

Hendery stood up quickly, moving toward her. “Y/n, wait,” he urged, stepping between her and the door. “It’s...it’s nothing. Everything is fine. Just stay here. Please.”

But there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that unsettled her even more. Fear. Desperation. “What do you mean, nothing?” she demanded, her voice growing firmer. “What’s happening, Hendery?”

He reached out as if to stop her, but Y/n was already moving. She dodged his grasp, heart pounding as she grabbed the door handle and swung it open. What she saw made her stomach lurch.

The house. The one that had been bustling with partygoers, filled with decorations and music just moments ago, was completely empty. Not a single soul in sight. The vibrant Halloween decor was gone. The walls, once adorned with spooky decorations, were bare. No banners, no balloons, no lights, hell, no furniture. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the structure of the house itself had changed.

There were no proper doors anymore. Just gaping holes where they should have been. The floor beneath her feet felt wrong, like it wasn’t quite solid, and the walls seemed to tilt at strange angles, defying logic. She stepped into the hallway, her breath catching in her throat as she realized there were no proper rooms, just spaces that didn’t make sense. Stairs that led upside down, windows positioned on the ceiling instead of the walls, holes that led to nowhere. The entire place was a twisted, impossible maze. And there was a slight humming that she couldn’t ignore, like a deep horn in the distance, but it wouldn’t stop.

Her heart raced as she took another step, her hands trembling. “This...this isn’t real,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaky. But every step felt all too real under her feet.

Behind her, Hendery’s voice was tight with tension. “Y/n, please, just come back into the room, we can talk about this..”

She turned to face him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. “What is this? What the fuck?”

Hendery stepped toward her, his face suddenly serious, no trace of his earlier flirtatiousness. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Find out what?” she demanded, panic rising in her chest. The eerie silence pressed down on her like a weight, and the impossible shapes of the house made her feel like she was trapped in some surreal nightmare.

“This place,” Hendery said quietly, his gaze steady on hers, “it’s not what you think. I created it. For you.”

Y/n stared at Hendery, her mind reeling. "This shit hole?!" she screamed, the words escaping her before she could stop them. 

None of it made any sense. The house, if it even was a house, was twisting and warping around her, defying all logic. Her heart pounded, and her breath came out in ragged bursts as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Every time she turned around or looked away, the space shifted. First, the rooms stretched impossibly long, the walls bending at strange angles. Then, in the blink of an eye, it wasn’t even a house anymore. The hallways became wide, empty spaces. The walls morphed into smooth, featureless surfaces, punctuated only by square holes for windows. She could see out of one now, they were on a high floor, overlooking what looked like a courtyard, but it wasn’t normal. Nothing about this place was.

The courtyard below was vast and unsettling, like something out of a fever dream. Endless windows lined every wall, but there was no life, no sound, just an eerie, stale air that filled the space. It felt abandoned. No, more than that. It felt wrong, like the world had been hollowed out, leaving nothing but this empty shell. The stillness was suffocating.

Her skin crawled as she stared out, trying to make sense of the twisted, labyrinthine structure around her. The building didn’t follow any familiar rules of architecture. It wasn’t a house or even an office, it was something else entirely. Something cold and alien. Like she was stuck in a forgotten place that wasn’t meant to exist.

“What is this?” Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible, fear clawing at her chest.

Hendery’s footsteps were soft behind her, his calmness an unsettling contrast to the chaos around them. “It’s...hard to explain,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “This place…it’s not real, not in the way you know reality. It’s something I made. For us.” He wasn’t wearing his stupid costume anymore, and neither was she. Her dress was replaced with stale jeans and a damp t-shirt. 

Y/n whipped around to face him, her eyes wild. “For us?!” Her voice was sharp, a mix of disbelief and anger. “You’re telling me you made this?” She gestured wildly to the strange, empty expanse around them. “This…nightmare? Who the fuck are you?!”

Hendery’s expression didn’t waver, though his eyes softened slightly. “I had to do something. I couldn’t lose you.”

“Lose me?” Y/n’s voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. “This isn’t saving me, Hendery! This...this place…it’s not right. None of this is right!”

She spun around again, her hands trembling as she looked out the windows, her mind racing. Every inch of the structure seemed to shift whenever she wasn’t looking, morphing into something new, something worse. It was like the building itself was alive, warping in response to her fear.

"And what the fuck do you mean by 'lose me'?" Y/n snapped, glaring at Hendery, her voice shaking with both fear and anger.

Hendery hesitated, avoiding her gaze. “...Nothing…you know…is real,” he muttered under his breath, his tone low and distant.

Y/n’s frown deepened. “What?” she demanded, stepping closer.

He finally looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Your memories...your friends, your entire life...I had to change it.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Hendery’s voice softened, his words more deliberate now. “If you knew what really happened...it would ruin everything. You don’t even remember how you got to the party, do you?”

Y/n’s breath hitched as his words sunk in, her confusion giving way to a cold, creeping realization.

The endless rows of windows, the strange emptiness, the sense that something was watching from every shadow, it made her stomach churn. The surreal, airy atmosphere around her felt too open, yet claustrophobic at the same time, as if there was no escape.

“Please, Y/n,” Hendery said softly, stepping closer. “Just stay. It’s safer here.”

Y/n shook her head, her heart racing. “Safer? Hendery, this place isn’t safe. It’s...it’s wrong.” She took a step back from him, panic rising as her surroundings became even more unfamiliar, more unsettling. The walls seemed to breathe, stretching and contracting as though they had a mind of their own.

She was trapped in a nightmare, a place that twisted reality into something grotesque and unnatural. And the worst part? Hendery had done this. Created this...prison.

"I have to get out of here," Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible as the horror of it all began to sink in.

But deep down, she wasn’t sure if escape was even possible.

Her legs moved before she could think, adrenaline kicking in as she bolted toward the nearest opening, the only thing on her mind was getting away. Away from Hendery, away from this twisted nightmare.

“Y/n, wait!” Hendery’s voice echoed after her, calm yet pleading, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She didn’t dare look back. His voice sounded too certain, too...knowing. And that terrified her even more. But he didn’t chase her.

The hall stretched endlessly before her, and her breath came in ragged bursts as she sprinted through the impossibly long corridors, her heart thudding in her chest. She turned sharply down another hallway, desperately hoping to find an exit, any way out.

But when she rounded the corner, expecting to see a blank hallway, there he was, Hendery, standing right where he was before she turned the corner. Watching her. Not moving. His eyes filled with something that looked almost like pity. 

How could he be there…he was just down the last hallway.

Y/n’s heart raced faster as she turned again, her pulse pounding in her ears. She ran harder, willing her body to go faster, to find some way out. She rounded another corner, praying for a door, a window, anything. But the moment she turned, her stomach dropped. She was back where she started.

Hendery was still there, standing in the same place, his face expressionless, but his eyes held that same pitying look. 

“No,” she breathed, panic clawing at her throat. She spun again, running down the hall, pushing herself harder, her feet slamming against the floor. But every turn brought her back to the same spot, the same hallway, the same twisted reality. And every time she looked back, there he was. 

“Hendery!” she screamed, frustration mixing with terror and tears. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, his gaze steady on hers.

“It’s no use,” he said softly, his voice carrying down the hall. “You can’t leave.”

Y/n shook her head, refusing to believe it, but her body was starting to betray her. She was exhausted, her legs shaking from the endless running, her mind spinning with the impossible reality she was trapped in. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

She slumped against the wall, her breathing ragged as she stared at him, defeated. Hendery took a slow step forward, his voice gentle, as if speaking to a frightened animal.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said, his eyes soft. “But this is the only way we can be together. You’ll understand...in time.”

Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of the impossible truth crashing down on her. There was no escape. No way out. She was trapped in this strange, shifting world, and Hendery was the only constant, her captor, and maybe, her only chance at survival.

Each step Hendery took toward her felt like a weight pressing against Y/n’s chest. She tried to move back, but she was already against the wall, trapped with nowhere to go. Her body, tired and trembling from running, betrayed her, forcing her to slide helplessly along the cold surface, trying to keep distance between them. But Hendery kept coming closer.

Her heart pounded as her feet shuffled sideways, desperation pushing her to retreat, but the wall offered no more space. She barely registered it in time, the gaping open window just beside her. One misstep, and suddenly, she was teetering on the edge, her balance slipping.

Y/n’s body tilted, gravity pulling her toward the dizzying drop below. Panic surged through her, and she screamed, her arms flailing as her foot slipped from under her.

Before she could fall, a firm grip closed around her wrist. Hendery. His hand clamped tightly, keeping her from plummeting into the empty abyss outside. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared up at him, wide-eyed.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The cool breeze from the outside brushed against her skin, while Hendery’s face remained calm, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. 

Y/n’s breathing was uneven, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of everything. Hendery’s grip was firm but gentle, and for a second, she felt that pull again, the comfort, the safety he made her feel. But then reality crashed back in. He had trapped her here, in this nightmare. The walls, the impossible structure, the shifting hallways...none of it was real. And Hendery? He was the architect of it all.

Her heart pounded as she thought it over. Every time she tried to escape, it led her back to him, like he controlled this whole world. She couldn’t let him keep her here. She wouldn’t. If this place was going to twist and warp reality, maybe she could twist it too.

Her muscles tensed as she made her decision.

Y/n’s eyes locked on his for a split second, just long enough for her to catch a flicker of concern in his gaze. Before he could react, she kicked him, hard, in the stomach. 

Hendery gasped in surprise, stumbling back and loosening his grip on her wrist. Seizing the moment, she yanked her arm free and launched herself back out the window, her body propelled by pure adrenaline. 

The wind whipped past her as she tumbled out into the void, the open air swallowing her whole. She felt weightless, her body spinning as she plummeted toward the ground. The courtyard below, cold and unforgiving, rushed up to meet her. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact, the harsh splat of concrete beneath her.

But the crash never came.

Instead, Y/n felt the soft give of cushions beneath her. Her eyes snapped open, and her breath caught in her throat. She was back in the small living room, the one Hendery had taken her to earlier. The dim lighting, the same worn couch, it was as if she’d never left.

She scrambled up, confusion flooding her senses. Her heart raced as her mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. She had jumped out of a window, had been falling to her death, and now she was here. Safe. Intact.

Her gaze flicked around the room, and there he was, Hendery, sitting calmly on the couch beside her, watching her with that same unreadable expression. No sign of the struggle. No sign of anything being out of place. 

“Welcome back,” he said quietly, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

Y/n’s stomach churned. She had escaped, or so she thought. But here she was, back where she started, as if her desperate attempt to flee had never even occurred. The world was bending to Hendery’s will, reshaping around her every move.

And this time, there really might be no way out.

Y/n’s legs gave out, her body crumbling on the floor. Her heart still raced from the fall, the reality of how close she’d come to dying. But now she was here, so what was really worse.

Hendery knelt down beside her, his grip still firm, but his touch gentle. "You can’t leave, Y/n," he whispered, his voice a mix of concern and control. "I won’t let you."

The weight of it all came crashing down on Y/n. Her chest tightened, and her throat constricted as the reality of her situation sunk in. She was trapped, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t escape him. She couldn’t escape this.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. Her body shook as the sobs broke free, uncontrollable and raw. She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face into them, trying to shield herself from the suffocating truth. Everything was wrong. So impossibly wrong.

Through the blur of tears, she heard footsteps move beside her. Hendery’s presence, calm and steady, loomed too close. 

"Hey...hey," Hendery’s voice was soft, almost soothing, as he reached out, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "It’s okay. Everything’s fine. I promise."

Y/n shook her head, her sobs making it hard to speak. "No, it’s not," she choked out, her voice muffled against her knees. "Nothing is fine...I can’t—" Her words faltered as another wave of tears hit her. "I can’t get out."

Hendery’s hand slowly trailed down her back, a gesture meant to comfort, though it only made her feel more trapped. “Shh...everything is fine," he whispered. "You’re safe here, Y/n. There’s nothing to worry about anymore."

But those words, safe here, felt hollow. Y/n lifted her tear-streaked face, looking at him through pained eyes, her heart aching. “How can you say that? You’ve trapped me in this...this nightmare,” she cried, her voice cracking.

Hendery’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t want it to feel like that,” he murmured, his tone quiet, almost apologetic. “But you don’t have to be afraid. I’m here. You’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

Y/n’s tears continued to fall, her body trembling as the weight of his words pressed down on her. "I don’t want this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I just want to go home..."

Hendery’s arms wrapped around her then, pulling her gently into his embrace. "You don’t want to go back there.." he whispered, his breath warm against her hair. "And I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. I’ll keep you safe, always."

His words sent a chill down her spine. Y/n wanted to push him away, to fight, to scream, but she was exhausted. Her mind, her body, everything felt too heavy to resist anymore. So she sank into his arms, her tears slowly subsiding, even though her heart still ached with the knowledge that she was truly stuck. 

And in that eerie silence, with Hendery holding her close as he repeated, “Everything is fine..”

Y/n felt the last piece of herself slip away, swallowed by the reality he had created.

-

A/N: WAA!! This (again) is the first Hendery/NCT fic I've posted, and I hope it hasn't disappointed.

There ain't enough WayV/NCT fic fics out there, so here I am!

It's probably obvious that this is meant to be a liminal space/backrooms kinda fic, cause why not! I was actually inspired by this post on tiktok a saw a few months ago, and it's just been chilling in my head, lol

I also wrote this fic while I was at work, so wrote it out in like a day, so if there are any mistakes, oops

Johnny

You sit on his lap, swiviling your hips, hands gripping the head board for stability. A moan escapes from your lips as his tip kisses the deepest parts of you.

"Johnny" you whine in desperation. It feels so good. But it's not enough

"Keep going for me beautiful" he croaks out. Eyes hooded and locked on yours. His large hand wraps around your neck, pressing slightly. The slight pressre provides a gentle jolt to your system causing you to throw your head and moan loudly, rutting your hips desperately to chase your high. He plunges deeper filling you up so nicely it drives you insane, and pushes you to take more of him.

"That's it my love" he encourages, voice low and hungry. Johnny rewards your enthusiasm by attaching his mouth to your left nipple, biting softly.

"Fuck" he pants "You look gorgeous on top of me" a new spark picks up from your right nipple as his hand elctrifieas every inch of your skin making you shiver.

There's a rustling, but you pay it no mind, your realise dwelling just under your surface. Buzzing fills the air but before you can react it's attack your clit/tip.

The moan that rips from you is vicious. Booming and drawn out. Once again it's too much. Your skin buzzes in tune with the toy, you pulse at random sucking Johnny in more.

"Look at me" he commands "you know I love to see you loose control" the vibrator diggs harsher onto you boarding on painful. He resumes the assault on your chest, enveloping the left nipple sucking harshly.

"Johnny..." you wail "...Johnny I can't" nails sink into his shoulders. You carve valleys in his dewy skin marking him as yours once again. He inhales at the sting, reveling in it. Reveling in you. His eyes dart down to where you two are joined.

"Fuck. for me pretty. All for me" he groans out bucking his hips up. He turns the settings on the vibrator up once more. It rattles against you in an intoxicating manner. You squeez Johnny harder, your high steadily approaching. His hand grips tighter as he mutters a simple command.

"Cum for me baby"

That's all it takes. Your resolve breaks. You let go.

"That's right make a mess for me" . Johnny ruts up into you helping you ride out your high and chasing his. You whine higher as your orgasm drags on, drenching Johnny's abs and the sheets.

You feel fuzzy like your floating. Your finger tips are on fire as you continue to clench around him.

His hands climb to your waist. Keeping you moving. When your senses are about you, you straighten up, hazy eyes staring into his. Soft lips meet yours as your body unknowningly follow your mind. Dying to have his lips on yours. The over stimulation settles in your bones, your nails dig harder into him.

He grunts "hold on for me baby" his lips barely leave yours "I'm close"

After what feels like an eternity, a hearty groan rings through the air. His teeth sink into your lips, his dull nails provide some solace. A teether for your floating being.

Kun

You don't know what track he was working on. Only that he said he needed you. He needed his muse.

The chair squeaks and the arms press into you, itchy and irritating. Kun leans back from him computer.

But then pleasure rushes your veins. Kuns lips, raw , pink and bruised from his anxious bitting, attaches to your neck drawing out a moan.

"Beautiful" he gasps "such beautiful moans. So Perfect, so pretty. " You hum in content at the praise wiggling in his hold.

Kun sits up. The clacking of keys driving you crazy. You can barely see his face from here, but the furl in his brow ignites your curiosity. Then you hear it. Your voice booms from his system.

He sits back before you can shrink yourself into him, embarrasment washing over you. The desperation in your voice feels raw and unfamiliar. But kun. Kuns hips jolt up at the sound. The sound of home, of peace, of pure beauty. The sound of his muse. Sounds that only he can compose, the master of your body, directing your pleasure like an orchestra.

You're barely moving, but his stare goes right to your core. Your hips rock upwards.

"Please do anything babe" you please growing more desperate by the second.

"Go on beautiful, play me" with his permission you crank your hips. The rough movements sharp and uncoordinated. Kuns skin rubs against yours, the chairs handle digs into your skin more rubbing it raw. You don't know how long you've been like this. An hour? Two?

How long has kun been playing with you? Commanding beats of silence after winding you up so close to your release.

The clacking is back. Kun starts tinkering away again. Frustratation beats in your chest at the sound.

"Kunnieeee, please" you whine, desperate.

" I was just ensuring that it saved" he claims. He leans back again. Taking in your form on top of him, groaning.

"Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me" he says gripping your thighs, squeezing the plump flesh there. His corse hands trail up your thighs and scrape against you teasingly.

"So good for me, my muse" Kuns heels dig into the floor allowing him to thrust hardly into you.

His hands return to your hips, forcing you down on him.

"So good, so pretty, all mine" he almost sings, lost in the vevelty wetness of your walls.

Releif, like finding water in miles of dessert, crashes into you when his hand presses against your clit/dick. It's almost too much, the 3 other orgasms that were stolen from you come back to life. Kun moves his hand quickly , your orgasm a crescendo, begging for a release.

"Come on pretty, you can cum" the sweet words leave his mouth alongside pants and groans. All of his efforts quicken determind to fulfill your desires.

You slump against Kuns body, spent, exausted. The arms of the chair chafing your skin as your legs morph into lead weights. Dealing the ground in search of stability.

Kun scoots closer to his desk, tinkering away again.

About 10 minutes pass before another word is said, kun occasionally searching your face, rubbing your back and legs.

"Are you able to get up?" he asks. You hum, brain still fuzzy and limbs less heavy.

"Maybe" you reply smushing your face further into kuns neck. Kuns chuckle fills you with warmth, pushing you back to look at your face. A chast kiss placed to your lips

"Let's get you home, my muse".

Hendery

"Awe man" Guangheng gasped in defeat, gesturing at the screen.

"This is what... " his voice trails off as you home in on how gorgeous the man in front of you is.

His goofy anger, his frustration makes him hotter. His legs speread, sweatpants leaving little to the imagination. His loose shirt hung off his shoulder exposing the canyons of his collarbones and the delicious skin that covers them.

You set your phone down and saunter over to the couch that he inhabits. Straddling his lap you cease his seemily endless chatter, collecting his lips with yours. The room falls silent , peacefulness returned , nothing but the hum of his game in the background.

"If you wanted me to be quiet all you had to do was ask(/j) " he smirks playfully pulling you closer into him. Of course Guangheng couldn't stay silent for long.

"I want you. Quiet or not" you whisper into his ear, grinding down on him teasingly.

"Well all you had to do was ask(/j/sx)" he repeats again. His hand finds your head, pulling you together for another heated kiss. Your cold hands thaw against the hot skin under his shirt, coaxing it off of him.

You push yourself off of him, sinking down to your knees. Hendery lifts his hips to free him self for you. You nuzzle up against his dick, slotting it into your mouth, hands on Hendery thighs.

"Fuck" he pants, his tip skims the back of your throat, your body both refusing and encouraging the action. The hair at his base tickles, your nose scrunching in response. You pull off of him and sneeze.

"Your so cute" his infectious laugh fills the room once more. the crack of a slap following as you retaliate against his bare thigh. Your mouth returns to him coaxing him to full hardness.

Once your satisfied. You return to his lap, hips hovering over his cock and chest over his face. He can't help but to press his face into it with a satisfied hum, kissing and sucking at the skin. Licking along your stretch marks.

"Love your tits" his muffled voice rings. The stretch of his cock is addicting in the way it splits you open. Slowly you fit him inside moaning as he reaches deep inside you.

You start moving your hips to your own rhythm, grabbing your boob in one hand, pinching your nipple. The sting is delicious and your other hand trails down to your core stimulating you there.

Guangheng cant do anything but sit and watch as you use him. His tries to keep his hips under control. Occasionally your thrusts meet the pleasure unexpected yet welcomed.

Your hands stop thier movement frantically searching for Henderys. Your hand lace together and you guide back to your chest. Hendey takes the bait. Fondling and gripping your titts. The sporatic tweaks of your nipples amplify the electricity surging through your body. The soft tugs are soothing but the harsh pinches are electrifying.

Your hand picks up speed as do your hips. Hendery digging his blunt nails into your chest as your velvety walls squeeze him.

"Shit" you gasp out. Your free hand climbes up Henderys torso. You stop at his nipples flicking them slightly. Hendery groans in response, his fluffy hair meeting the back of the sofa.

Your lips find his neck, his hand your core replacing yours. Your free hand reaches its final destination, curling around his thick neck the best your hands could.

Guangheng goes wild. His eyes roll back, his hand picks up speed on your clit and his other had trades your nipple for his own. His hips move on their own accord. Out of tune with your movememebts but delightful none the less.

Your bodies ruffling is all you hear, until his loud moan ripples through the air.

"Cum with me princess" he begs looking back at you, his eyes commanding the attention of your own.

His face soon contours in pleasure, his moan loud and deep. His hips piston into yours, driving you to your high.

Eventually the cord snaps. Your coming on his spent dick and the last drops of his release mix with yours. Your hips circle languishing in the pain that resides after your orgasm.