Grace, may I please request Zen and backstage. Thank you lovely â„ïžâ„ïž
You're not supposed to be here.
You are allowed in his dressing room and the green room and even the prop closet, if you ask nicely. But the stage manager would yell if she saw you here in the wingsâit's dark and crowded and you're sure that you're in the way.
But this is the way he likes you to watch: closer than anyone else; more a part of his world than his audience will ever be. And you helped him learn all these linesâyou know the play by heart.
You know when he enters and you know when he exits.
He exits now.
The lights change, and he comes to you. The music swells and the scenery shifts, but all you see is him.
"How was I?" he mouthsâsilent, but you understand. You open your lips and then his arms are around your waist and the world tilts sideways.
He dips you and kisses you with all the fervor of the famous lines he's just spoken and all the radiance of being seen.
It's dark here, but you kiss him back and everything is bright.
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IâM BACK FINALLY AND I BRINGING A SELF SHIP ASK!!!! I hope you enjoy â„ïž What would Saeyoung think the first time he walks in to find you wearing his clothes??
LEA!!!!! I missed you (here) even though I talk to you every dayâand I missed these asks, too. I love you immensely.
So. I'm a serious clothes-stealer. I hardly ever wear my own clothes, in fact: at least half of my outfits are made up of my partner's clothes and friends' clothes and clothes somebody left at my house once and literally who do they even belong to?
Why wear your own clothes when it's warmer to wear someone else's?
So I'd already be taking his clothes when we're on the road together. Even pre-cabin (and pre-all the things that happen in that cabin), I'd absolutely be making outfits out of his things. I imagine we're staying somewhere together overnight and sort of awkwardly sharing a bed because we haven't really done anything yet, and he gets out of bed before me and goes to the car to get a cable or something that he needs, and I'm left all alone.
I look at the dwindling pile of clothes that I packed and hate every single one of them. I feel stiff and sticky and altogether uncomfortable.
I spy the jeans he wore the day before slung over a chair (he tried to sleep in them at first, but I convinced him to at least wear pajamas) and laugh out loud to myself. That's one way to feel more comfortable.
By the time he's back from the car, I'm in his jeans (rolled way up, because I'm 16 cm shorter than him) and a clean t-shirt I found in his bag (I'm a horrible snoop), sitting cross-legged on the bed pretending I've done nothing wrong.
He's not easily fooled. Not by anyoneânot by me.
He sees what I've done and his beautiful eyes go wide.
"Um," he says. "Uh."
I look up at him and grin. His face is all red and he's running a hand through his hair like he's not quite sure where it goes. His eyes are trained on the way his shirt is tight around my chest and too loose everywhere else, and he can't seem to string words into a sentence.
"I borrowed a couple things," I say. "Do you mind?"
"You, uh," he stammers. He's still got his car keys in his hand. "That'sâm-my..."
"Does it fit okay?" I can't help teasing him. He's hopeless when he's caught off guard.
"Itâ" he mutters. "Youâ" He shifts his weight from side to side and runs anxious fingers through his hair again. "How am I supposed to drive when you look like that?" he asks, his voice coming out high-pitched and strange.
I giggle and hop from the bed, and he goes even redder.
Grace â„ïžâ„ïžâ„ïž Inquiring minds (mostly Lux and I) want to know in your opinion what did Unknown and Elizabeth hang out and do when he kidnaps her in Juminâs route?? Was he a good cat dad?? Thank you for answering dear friend!!! â„ïžâ„ïž
Unknown and Elly, best friends forever.
Honestly? I think Unknown would be an excellent cat dad.
He sort of like a cat himself. He sleeps at whatever time of the day or night he feels like sleeping; he wanders the city and watches from afar. He bristles when anyone gets closeâand he'll never admit it, but he loves to lay in a warm spot and feel the sun on his face.
And there is something special about a pet's affection, of course. They don't wonder whether you're good or bad. They love you no matter who you are and what you've doneâthey look to you for food and shelter and fall asleep by your side. It's why Saeyoung is so drawn to catsâand Unknown, though he'd never say so, feels just the same.
He's so lost.
He doesn't think about things like this anymoreâwhat he wants, what he needs, who he is. He works till he can't work anymore. He feels anger that he can't explain and takes it out on the people around him. He does as he's told, for the most part; he's dizzy a lot of the time, and sometimes he looks around and realizes he doesn't know where he is or how he got there.
And Elly is sweet and good. She leaps into his lap and ignores him when he tries to brush her away. Without really meaning to, he buys food for herâand when he offers it, she purrs and flicks her tail and he feels something he hasn't felt in a long time.
He feels warm.
He doesn't let that feeling linger, of course. He goes right back to work, and he types faster and more furiously than before. But Elly finishes eating and jumps onto his desk and curls up in the spot thatâs lit up by his screensâand it's not the sun, but it's something.
And Unknown can type with one hand, so he reaches for her and strokes her soft little head. He can't even remember why he took her in the first place. Yes, he wants to see the RFA go up in flamesâbut heâs not even sure if kidnapping this strange, quiet creature has anything to do with that. She can stay, though. He thinks heâd be fine if she stayed.
But that isnât what happens. When she's gone, he goes into a rampageâand his Savior assumes it has something to do with his brother, but she's wrong.
For one day, he had someone by his side who didn't think he was a bad kid or an evil man. She didn't fear him or despise him or pity him. She just was.
And Unknown doesn't always remember who or where he is, but he's not going to forget that feeling. It was like laying in the sun.
Happy Monday!!! I hope youâre week started well friend?? Different kind of question this week. Does Saeyoung have a signature scent? Like you just know they are around because you smell this?? â„ïž
OH YES OH YES OH YES I SURE HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS YES I HAVE.
Ok, so like. Hear me out.
In my imagination, Saeyoung smells like hot honey and amber with a hint of pine and sandalwood.
When I say hot honey, I mean this. It's super sweet and spicyâthat sort of flavor that burns your tongue and melts your mind. I think the honey scent comes from his hair, actually (no, he doesnât just smell like chips all the time). Saeyoung doesnât pick products to use based on whether theyâre actually right for his hair type or whether theyâre âniceâ or "good qualityââhe picks them based on the name and how cool the bottle looks. Honey-infused shampoo does existâand itâs certainly not the right product for his hair, but he picks it because the bottleâs a pretty golden color and it has pictures of bees on it. The spicy smell is partially his own natural scent and partially some other product; he doesnât really wear cologne or even scented lotion, but he definitely uses a deodorant with a warm, spicy amber smell. Honestly? Vanderwood probably got it for him ages ago, and then he just kept on buying the same one.
The outdoorsy smells are from a body washâand they change, because heâs not consistent in what he uses. In spite of his lifestyle, itâs actually very important to him to be clean (I wrote about that here), and even when heâs working through the night he still takes a break to shower. He doesnât really care if heâs using âmenâsâ products or âwomenâsâ products (what even is gender?), and he makes a point of picking something different every time just to keep life interesting. He prefers warm, woody scents, and he chooses these often. Once you move in with him, heâll definitely use your body washâso some days heâll wrap his arms around you and youâll laugh, because he smells like you.
âYou smell amazing,â you tell him early onâand you nestle closer, your head on his chest and your arms around his waist.
âReally?â He giggles and pulls you close. âIâd never even thought about it.â
Of course he didnât. And sometimes heâs pressed up against you and you catch a whiff of his scent and feel dizzyâeven later (and much later, and much much later). The years go by; he never fails to entice you.
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I love you a lot, my dear @quirky-and-kindâ. Here is a little story to start your day đ€
She is starting to nod off in his arms when Zen whispers her name, pulling her back from the brink of a dream.
âLea.â He sees the way his breath ruffles her hair and smiles, pushing it back off her face. She is curled up against his chestâand at the sound of his voice, her eyelashes flutter and she wriggles closer. There is the slightest crease on her cheekâthe imprint of the fabric of his shirtâand for a moment he is frozen (captivated by her peacefulness).
Lea, he thinks, is the sensation of sunriseâwhen the world is flooded with light and everything springs to life. She fills the space around her with the ferocity of her love and the strength of her gentleness; she radiates vibrancy in a way he canât even comprehend.
She is full of energy and dedication all the time, and so he loves to see her resting like this: she deserves to sleep soundly. Zen hears the way her breathing has deepened and wonders if he should just let her be.
But tonight is too important; but he needs her to see this.
âLea,â he whispers again, kissing her forehead. This time, she stirs.
âSorry,â she murmurs groggily into his neck. âI fell asleep.â
Zen laughs softly because she has nothing to apologize for. He pauses the movie they were watching and runs a hand through her hair.
âI know youâre tired, princess,â he says (and she twists in his arms to look at him, smiling and shaking her head as if to reassure him that sheâs already up). âItâs just that itâs nearly midnight and I have something to show you.â
Lea yawns and stretches her arms over her head and something stirs in Zenâs chest. Again, he thinks of abandoning his planâthinks of pulling her tight against his body and making her melt for him. But it is almost time; but he needs toâ
âCome with me, angel,â he murmurs. Lea slips from his lap (he canât suppress a little groan of disappointment) and stands, looking remarkably alert.
âWhere are we going?â she asks. Ah: she trusts him incontrovertibly. It makes his heart shiver.
âYouâll see.â
Zen rises slowly. This couch is so much larger and softer than the one they have at home; itâs easy to sink into it. This whole room, in fact, feels gigantic in comparison to their apartment. And itâs beautiful: the lights are a soft shade of amber; there are fresh flowers on all of the end tables.
And, in the distance, Zen can hear the whisper of waves hitting the shore.
âIs it okay if Iâm in my pajamas?â Lea glances down at herself, laughing. Sheâs wearing the set he bought her for this trip: cute little shorts in a pattern that matches his shirt. And she didnât ask why it was that he wanted to match even in their sleep: she understoodâas he knew she wouldâthat itâs not about being seen, but about knowing that they are a pair.
A set; two halves. Itâs how theyâve always been.
âItâs nighttime, darling,â he says, reaching for her hand. âThere wonât be anyone out but us.â
So Zen leads Lea across the spacious room; she follows him, curious and eager. Their feet make a gentle patter on the hardwood floors. He holds the door open for her.
âShoes?â she asks, arching her eyebrows. Zen smiles widely (and it has the desired effect: Lea blushes and her eyes twinkle).
âWeâre not gonna need them.â
Lea steps through the door and Zen lingers for a moment. The resort where theyâre staying opens directly onto the beach; Lea stands on the sand with moonlight in her hair and Zen forgets how to speak.
âWhat are you doing?â she asks him. A gentle sea breeze blows her short hair all around her face; Zen thinks his heart is going to burst.
âYou areâŠâ Zen shakes his head; the wind catches his hair and whips it around and he struggles to find the words.
âIn my pajamas on the beach?â Lea asks.
âMagnificent,â Zen says.
Lea shakes her head and gets that look in her eyes: the one where he knows she is going to turn the compliment back on him. He lets the door fall shut behind him and runs to her side, wrapping her in his arms and sweeping her off her feet.
âHyun!â she shrieks. He stumbles a little in the sand but maneuvers her easily onto his back. âI can walk in the sand.âÂ
âYou can do everything,â Zen tells her (and itâs true). âBut Iâm still going to carry you, angel.â
Leaâs arms settle around his neck as he sets off down the beach. He flexes his shoulders a little for her and hears her breath stutter; ah, he knows how to set her whole world spinning.
âYou were right,â she says (and her voice is so close it gives him goosebumps). âThereâs no one out here this time of night.â
âItâs all ours,â Zen says. He means the beachâhe means the universe. He means this single moment in time and every second of their bright, shimmering future.
When he reaches the waterâs edge, he sets her gently on her feet.
âNow,â he says. He wraps an arm around her waist and points at the ocean. Itâs calm and quiet, lapping delicately against their bare toes. âLook at the water.â
âIâm looking.â
âItâs empty,â he tells her. And it does look that way: so clear you can see straight through it. Itâs dark and practically colorless.
âItâs pretty, though,â Lea says, leaning into his side. Zen chuckles, because of course sheâd think so.
âThat was me,â he says plainly (and Lea peers up at him through the hazy darkness, puzzled). âFor a long time, thatâs who I was. I was hereârushing against the store, drifting in and out with the phases of the moonâbut there wasnât anything more.â
Life was monotone, he thinks. He worked and slept and dreamed and yearned; he saw everything in shades of black and white and silver.
âHyun,â Lea says (forceful in the way she gets when heâs hard on himself). âYou were alwaysââ
âTake a step,â Zen says.
Lea looks up at himâlooks at the oceanâand steps into the water. It rushes over her ankles and shivers around her legs.
Then:
âOh,â Lea says. Her breath catches in her throat. There it is.
As Lea walks into the water, glitter bursts all around her: bright sparks of light, shining bright as the moon just under the surface of the waves. She looks back at Zen and the awe in her eyes makes him weak.
âBioluminescence,â she says, her voice raspy. She knowsâof course she knows.
Sheâs brilliant, Zen thinks. Heâs always thought so.
âYeah.â He wades in after her and the lights grow brighter all around them. Tiny radiant plankton dance beneath the water; everything shines.
âAnd this isââ
Zen comes to stand behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.
âWhat youâve done to me,â he says.
Lea waits, knowing heâll say more. Zen drops one hand to dangle it in the water and sparkles trail behind his fingertips.
âYou stepped into my monochrome world and flooded it with light,â he whispers. Thereâs no sound but his voice and the gentle rushing of the waves, breaking and swelling around their bodies. The bottom edge of Leaâs pajama shorts is getting damp, but she doesnât seem to mind.
Lea turns, then, so sheâs facing him; her eyes reflect the sparkles on the surface of the water. He can see that sheâs thinkingâthat she has a million things to sayâthat her heart is racing.
But: âI love you,â she says simplyâand thatâs all she needs to say. Love encompasses all of it: adoration; gratitude; devotion.Â
Just then, Zenâs phone buzzes in his back pocket. Itâs the alarm he set so heâd know when it was time.
Lea raises her eyebrows and he grins and kisses herâbends her all the way back, a firm hand on her waist keeping her from dipping beneath the waterâs surface. Her smaller hands grasp at his back and tangle in his hair and he feels as though the water has taken him and carried him away.
âWhat was that?â she pants as he tugs her upright. Yes: her shorts are definitely wet, and the ends of his hair glimmer with water droplets.
Zen pulls out his phone and holds it up to her. Midnight.
âHappy birthday, princess,â he says.
âOh,â Lea breathes, and then she throws her arms around his neck. The water is cool but her body is warm; he kisses her again and again and feels like heâs dissolving.
Around them, the ocean glitters. Zen feels himself rocking to the rhythm of the waves and thinks of tidesâdrifting in and out; endless and unbound. He has always been like that: rushing and breaking; never sure where to turn.
But Lea taught him what it is to be whole. She is the light that shimmers under the surface of the waves; with her, everything shines.
Itâs that thirsty time of the week to get you ready for your weekend! How loud is Saeyoung? Does he moan/whine/whimper? Does he curse? Does he call your name like itâs the only thing heâs ever know?
Lea, these questions are always on point. I truly admire your mind.
Saeyoung is definitely loud.
I think he, like...moans a lot. He doesn't necessarily mean toâhe just gets really excited. If Saeyoung loves you, he loves you. Sex with you is like the whole universe going up in flames every single time. He's so sensitive to youâlike his skin is glass and it cracks if you so much as breathe near him. For the first few months (years?) he's ready to go at any momentâany time, any day, any place.
And he just can't help but be vocal. You're totally blowing his mind.
I don't think he talks a lot, thoughâat least not at first. He's so chatty most of the time (nervous chatty, like he just doesn't know when to stop). Once he's got you naked in front of him, all the words dry up: his genius brain is spinning out of control, and he forgets how to speak altogether.
Over time, though, he talks more. He doesn't curse or scream your name, but he will tease you. He'll taunt you till you're blushing (blushing, even with him inside you!); he'll tell you how much he wants youâplead with youâpraise youâbeg you to keep doing whatever you're doing because dear god, he's going crazy..
It's okay to shush him. Put a finger to his lips and tell him he's pretty; kiss his flushed cheeks and tell him to stay quiet till the very end.
See if he can. It could be a fun game: shake your head and pull away if he moans; don't touch him till he's dead silent.
He'll try his best for you, but he'll probably win in the end.
He's so into you he forgets to do as he's told. Kiss his skin and he's whimpering; oh, he loves youâit's the feeling of your body against his, the rhythm of your breath, the sound of your voice. He loses himself entirely.
