#mxwriters

Three brass numbers stare back at you, their dulled shine throwing your distorted reflection in your face. Behind those numbers, a different life was lived—one that saw more smiles on your face and laughter tightening your belly. Now, they served as a jabbing reminder to that past life.

You let out a huff, expelling those pleasant memories past your lips to wither in the air with the last remnants of summer. Your knuckles tap twice on the rough grain of the door before falling to your side, your fingers fiddling with the cuff of your jacket sleeve to calm the jittery flutters of your stomach. 

A muffled shuffling can be heard from the other side before a brief pause. The deadbolt clicks back and the door creaks open slowly. His presence finds you with a gentle wave of warmth like a lingering stream of sunlight that never quite liked having to yield to the moon just yet.

You cannot look him in the eyes, not yet, so you settle for somewhere in the middle of his chest, although, it is not much of an improvement. The smooth mounds of his pecs are outlined by his white t-shirt and it takes all of one heartbeat to remember how his muscles feel under your hands. Your breath stutters in your chest and the greeting that perched on your tongue plummets off. 

He, it seems, is content to wait for your silent spell to lift.

It takes effort, to push those memories and sounds away, but you hurriedly shove them back into that box in the neglected corner of your mind and slide the lock in place.

“Hey, Hyunwoo,” you say to his shoulder instead. 

He shifts to the side, opening the door all the way to let you in. “You made it,” he answers, something grated catching the tail end of his words. But, it is gone before the next comes, “I could have dropped the box off at your work. Save you the time.”

You step over the threshold, the box in question sits ahead on the coffee table in the living room. A life condensed to one cardboard cube. You shake your head at his suggestion and reach into your pocket to retrieve a set of keys, holding them up between you. 

“It’s alright, I need to leave these for Mr. Lee anyway.”

Hyunwoo lets out a small hum of understanding. You still cannot look at his eyes. So, you opt to look around the apartment. It is a small space, but it feels larger now, and not because of the lack of your share of things. It is still warm, still him, but a definite something is gone. You do not have to stretch your thoughts much as to what. 

A melancholic twinge pinches your heart and the urge to grab the box and leave immediately shoots through you.

“I think I got everything in there,” he is saying now, a tanned hand reaching up to play with the hair at the back of his neck, “but you might want to look around to make sure.” 

“Okay.”

There is a pause; It is deep and full of questions, but Hyunwoo does not push. You don’t have the answers, anyway.

“Hey,” he says then, quietly, testing the waters at your toes, and carefully steps to you again. “It’s good to see you.”

You can hear the unsaid words and bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop the ones you want to say. 

“You cut your hair,” he continues. Unconsciously your hand reaches up to finger the freshly blunted ends; an impulsive decision in the tumult of your emotions. Strong fingers gently pull the lock of hair from your own and he thumbs the strands fondly.

Unwillingly, your eyes look up to find his. He’s staring at you, his chocolate eyes lightened and burning with the setting sun coming through the window. Fondness clouds his gaze, but something else cowers behind it; a fresh wound still too raw and bleeding to cover. He’s letting you glimpse it, you know, but he won’t speak of its pain out loud, content to bury it under a thick facade so it doesn’t lash out and cut you, too. 

But that makes you hurt all the more, to see him hide his pain, to know he’s hurting like you but is still too in love to lay bare the full brunt of it to you. He still protects you— after every ugly thing that happened—an action as natural to him as breathing. It’s infuriating. You want to scream at him to show you, to let you share in the burden that both of you are carrying.

It takes a moment to register the touch, your senses otherwise occupied with your thoughts, his proximity, and the comforting scent that clings to his tee. Your now empty fingers twitch, wanting to gather the fabric and remove it from him. 

Instead, they rise, pressing into the firm skin of his forearm to nudge his hand away.

“I’m gonna take a look around, now.”

It doesn’t take long, but you find a handful of forgotten things—a tube of lipstick at the back of a drawer, a pair of slippers kicked under the bed, and a few shirts mixed in with his. You add them into the box and close it. A crease appears between your brows as you take in the size of the box; it’s a little too wide for you to be able to carry comfortably. Before you can wrestle with the indecision to ask Hyunwoo for help, he offers it for you. You quietly accept with a nod and sidestep to move past him but are stopped by his fingers on your wrist.

He smooths a thumb over the sensitive skin, a habit he picked up after arguments when he couldn’t find the right words to say. A silent request; a plea.

“Stay,” he whispers, bowing his head to rest atop of yours.

It’s a familiar feeling—the weight of his head on yours, the rough pad of his thumb smearing unspoken words across the canvas of your wrist, and the way his breath against your ear wakes something deep at the bottom of your belly. 

It’s a feeling you know and yearn for when the moon is the only one to see your tears; when the nights feel too cold and hollow for the season. It’s an ache that sits heavy behind your ribs, digging and tearing into your exposed, tender heart, and one that you wish to rid yourself of so badly regardless of the repercussions. If you give in, would you be able to staunch the flow of the reopened wound?

The decision two months ago was final, you swore, but now, with all the comfort of him right at your fingertips, that promise was beginning to fray.  

When the silence stretches too far, and your answer dances tauntingly out of reach,  Hyunwoo’s fingers slide a warming trail up the inside of your arm.

“Just for tonight.”

Once. Only once wouldn’t hurt, right? He wants this as bad as you—it’s evident in the way his breaths come quicker and the weight of him against your side. This could heal you both, could dislodge that lump in your chest that makes it so hard to breathe every day.

But you think of the wound it is covering, preventing the full flow of the pain from seeping down to break your brittle bones. A scab that should remain untouched. This could hurt you more, prolonging the healing and stoking your suffering into even greater anguish. 

Hyunwoo’s fingers have found their way to your jaw and he tilts your head up to his, catching your eyes before you can make yourself look away. Dusky pink and lavender light bloom in his eyes and contour his face, tinting his skin with a soft golden glow and sighing sweet longings onto his lips. 

His expression isn’t hard to read, for once, his emotions and intent displayed openly across his features. 

Your resolve wavers, the thread of your promise struggling to stay whole. But, with the way he looks at you, the way he feels against you, the way the unbearable need kicks restlessly against its bony confines, you don’t imagine the thread can hold on any longer.

And so, it snaps.

You lean into his chest and close your eyes, parting your lips to await the arrival of your salvation. Hyunwoo dips his head to brush the petals of his lips against yours, testing, before pressing for a deeper kiss that breaks open the floodgates.

A heat, a relief, surges over your worn nerves, so intensely that it has you stifling a cry against his mouth. For the first time in weeks, you are touched by the sun, given the grace of its warm refuge within the circle of his arms. 

At once the pain against your heart ceases; a warmer, happier, lighter thing blooming in its place. The frigid, lonely nights of the past months fade to the background, succumbing to the scorching flames of the reddening sunset. The joy of having him again, of his lips searing white-hot love against your skin, blinds you to the steady trickle of a freshly reopened wound and the poison it seeps into your marrow. 

Hyunwoo pulls you closer until your heartbeats thrum together, chests rising and falling with shared breaths. He continues kissing you with an insatiable hunger, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other splayed across the small of your back. His larger frame cradles you against the firmness of his torso and your fingers delight in the discovery of his heated abdomen beneath his shirt. Skimming tips over his happy trail, you take your time ascending. You can map out all that you feel under your palms with your eyes closed—the small mole here, the raised scar there, the dips between his formed muscles. It is all familiar and just as enticing as before. 

Your hands reach his collarbones and spread outwards towards his shoulders, curving over the rounded and tensed muscles. A gentle tug against his shirt has him reluctantly releasing you to raise his arms and his shirt is removed with a hurried flourish.

The sun delights in peppering gold and red-tinged kisses against his skin and you find yourself wanting to follow suit. Hyunwoo’s hands reach for you again, wrapping around your waist as yours find home tangled in his hair. A contented sigh flows from his throat and over his kiss-swollen lips at the contact.

He angles down to tongue indigo flowers against your neck, nibbling lightly with white teeth when it coaxes those breathy noises from you he so loves. Wide hands travel south to cup your ass, giving an appreciative squeeze before descending lower and you react to the familiar request. You stand on the tips of your toes, pulling yourself up in time to the lift of his sturdy arms. 

Hyunwoo smiles up at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that always has your heart oozing in love. There is a small moment, taken by you both, to simply look at one another, eyes locked and air stalled in lungs. 

But now you can see the finer details—the deep purple crescents that color the skin under his eyes, and the way the stubble across the cut of his jaw and upper lip fails to hide the fact that his cheeks are not as full. You are sure your face mirrors what you find in his, but does it hurt him the same way it does you? Does his heart clench in guilt for the sleepless nights and untouched meals, too?

You almost want to ask, but instead, brush away the inky fringe from his forehead.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you say with a kiss to his cheek.

He moves, walking with easy footsteps away from the living room and down the short hallway to the room. 

He places you down gently at the edge of the bed and you remain sitting, eyes level with his navel. The trail of black hairs disappears beneath the low rise of his charcoal grey joggers and you wet your lips at the thought of where they lead. Your focus moves to the ‘v’ of his hips, a little more prominent now, likely suffering a similar fate as his cheeks. A surge of guilt rakes across the weeping edges of your heart—a reminder that it is a result of your actions.   

You lean forward, shifting slightly to place your lips against his left hip—your own plea for forgiveness. Deliberately, you mark affection-tinted kisses down his hip until you are stopped by the waist of his sweats. You withdraw a fraction, ghosting light breaths against his goose-bumped skin until you reach his right hip and repeat your actions. By the time you reach the end of the line, his breaths are coming in shaky, shallow huffs, and there is a noticeable strain under the grey fabric. 

A midnight blue nail hooks the waistband and drags it down until the upper line of curly black hair appears. Your eyes glance up to find his looking down at you, hooded and churning with a deep well of need. He doesn’t move—controlling and holding back with well-practiced patience. But that doesn’t fool you—beneath the calm veneer a golden lion waits, eyes fixed on you to find the perfect opportunity to pounce and gain the upper hand. For now, he lets you lead and play with your pretend hold of power. The thought has warmth spreading through your belly to gather in a burning sunspot between your thighs.

Holding Hyunwoo’s gaze, you slowly pull his sweats all the way down, allowing yourself to delight in the way his thickly muscled thighs feel under your fingertips. He steps out, kicking the bundled fabric to the side before resuming his position before you. 

The length of his cock is lightly veined, rushing scorching blood to the swollen head that has already begun to bead with translucent pearls. You can taste him already and eagerly wrap a hand around his base, leaning in to lead the tip to your mouth.

From your periphery, you spy his hands move to the back of your head, but he pauses just before he can gather your hair between his fingers, and drops them back to his sides. 

No, you think, bring them back. Pull my hair and guide my head like those many passion-fueled nights where we couldn’t contain ourselves. You didn’t want him to restrain himself; you needed to know that he still wanted you in all the ways he did before, even if only for this brief moment. You shed your protective walls, opting instead to expose the rawness of your emotions and give in to their whispers, but Hyunwoo is fighting his. Where he seemed so sure of what he wanted back in the living room, he now looked to be warring with his inner turmoil—unsure if he can really give in and give you every last splintered shard of his destroyed heart. The whole of it is already yours, anyway. 

But you want it, want him and are more than willing to give him all the broken pieces of yourself. If only to feel whole again for one night. To have him mend you and make you complete.

You want to do the same in return. Let us pretend that we can stitch each other back together. Please.   

And so you ask him for such, lifting his larger hand in yours and painting rouge blossoms across the rise of his knuckles. He opens his fist, turning it up and softly caressing your cheek. You lean into it as he rubs a line over your cheekbone. 

“Don’t hold back,” you murmur into the heel of his palm.

He watches your eyes for a moment, quickly made decisions flickering behind his pupils. He nods once, pushing his hand up through your hair to rest slightly at the back of your skull. A gentle smile sits in the corner of his lips, one that holds years of fondness and familiarity at the act. With a light touch of pressure, he coaxes you forward and you take him into your mouth. The salt of him on your tongue has your pupils dilating with pleasure. 

Despite being a bit too large for your mouth, you take in as much of him as you can. With steady movements and practiced touches that know exactly how to elicit the soft moans that spill over the pillow of his lips, you pleasure him. You bring him to the edge several times, delighting in the way his abs flex to stave off his release. A hard suck on the head of his cock has a loud whoosh of air gushing out of his open mouth, resulting in a fisted hand in your hair pulling you off. Saliva dribbles down your chin as you grin up at him, his pupils blown wide. 

Hyunwoo runs a thumb over your bottom lip to clean away the remaining spit before dipping it between your lips. You roll your tongue along the digit and suck. He smiles and withdraws his hand to grip your chin and brush a kiss to your temple.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your hair. “It’s my turn now.”

His hands curve over your shoulders, pressing you back against the mattress. Rough fingertips tickle the bare skin under the hem of your shirt before he lays his palms flat over your sides, pushing up your shirt as he explores the smoothness of your tummy. You lie there, watching the ever-growing desire pool deeply in his eyes. His hands reach the rounds of your breasts and you arch up into the touch—he takes advantage of your movement and makes quick work of the clasp of your bra. Together, he helps you remove both garments. 

Hyunwoo’s lips waste no time in latching onto the already peaked buds of your nipples. He dotes on each in turn; massaging, licking, sucking, tweaking, until you are melting and whining under his touch. He plays your body so well and you are already begging to return to how things used to be. Your heart plays tricks on your brain and for a moment, as Hyunwoo descends with a trail of wet kisses, you believe that maybe you two can work this out. Maybe you can glue the splintered pieces back together despite the gashes being sliced into your hands.

But that makes you a fool. Your mind knows this, but your heart has covered its ears and refuses to listen. ‘Maybe! Maybe!’ it shouts.

Your hands reach out to card through Hyunwoo’s hair as he slips off your pants and pushes open your thighs. All thoughts of who to listen to vanish with a single lick of his tongue over your folds.

He eats you with a ravenous hunger—not the gentle, loving Hyunwoo of typical days gone by, but the starving, mind consumed with only one goal-Hyunwoo who has not tasted you in far too long. He works you over with his skilled tongue, lapping up every drop you have to give between the mind-numbing sucking his plump lips bestow upon your swollen clitoris. 

And just as pleading whimpers tumble from you in rapid succession, he slides two fingers into your heat and beckons for you to let go.

You come undone into his waiting mouth and he lets out an audible moan, devouring you more until you writhe in overstimulation under his strong grip.

“Hyun-Hyunwoo,” you stutter, hands uselessly swatting his head away, “Too much!”

He removes his lips with one last wet kiss and his hands instantly wrap around your ankles.

“Come here,” he says, a command wrapped in a low growl rumbles from his chest. He tugs you down closer to the edge of the bed and taps your hip. A silent signal.

You flip over obediently, coyly wiggling your ass in front of him.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

An impatient hand digs into the soft curve of your hip, the other hand, you imagine, is wrapped tightly around his cock. It makes you drool at the thought.

You let out a soft mewl as he slides his length between your dripping lips, covering it with your slick arousal. He is already hot against you and your muscles clench tightly in desperate need to have him inside already. 

Never one to make you wait, Hyunwoo answers your wish and pushes himself in deep. A shiver dances down your spine at every delicious inch of him you feel slide inside. His fingers are locked in a vice grip on your hips but you welcome the bite of pain; bruises mean nothing when he is buried in you.

“Move, please,” you gasp, breathless to feel more.  

He cedes to your body in an instant, allowing himself to drive into you in a euphoric state. Each stroke is purposeful with careful intent to coax out the utmost pleasure for you both, but that does not mean it lacks any power.

His thighs and balls slap against you in a lewd rhythm, and he plunges inside of you so passionately that strength quickly leaves your arms. You bury your face into the sheets and let your eyes close, ignoring the string of drool that leaks from your open mouth. 

God, you missed being thrust into oblivion by this man.  

A tense arm slips around your waist and a sticky heat drapes over your back as Hyunwoo pulls your bodies closer together. His lips find your shoulder before biting down, sending a burst of pleasure spiking through your blood. He nudges your head sideways, exposing your neck and littering it with destitute kisses and not-so-gentle nips.

“You feel so fucking good. So wet,” he whispers, tugging on your earlobe as his fingers gather the wetness between your legs.

“Only for you.” 

He hums approvingly and guides you back down on all fours, picking back up his almost desperate pace.

“Deeper,” you beg.

Hyunwoo grunts behind you and rocks you forward with a particularly hard snap of his hips. “I’m already balls deep.”

“Bullshit, I know you can do it.” Your view spins suddenly and you blink up at Hyunwoo’s large frame looming over you. A band of sweat gathers along his temple and his toned chest billows with exertion. 

He cups his hands under your knees, pushing them up to your chest and out slightly. He keeps them in place by leaning forward, letting his body weight hold you down. A sharp breath is sucked into your lungs as his cock glides back in farther than before, touching the spot that has your toes curling. Your lips turn up in a triumphant smirk.

“Shut up,” Hyunwoo says in return. His pace is slower, a gentleness lacing through thanks to the close proximity of his face to yours, but the urgency and need continues to boil steadily behind his pounding heartbeat.

You take the opportunity to connect your mouth to his and your heart flutters as he responds to your kiss. It is deep and easy, communicating all wants and words that are too fragile to be spoken aloud. 

Tiny cracks begin to reach out from the back recesses of your heart; damning reminders that every happy thing you are feeling now is a lie; a false mask that will shatter and break away when it ends.

And ever the fool, you jerk away from them and turn your back. You will face this setting sun and soak up every last flickering ray it has to offer.

You join Hyunwoo in this final “love”-making, imbuing each other with the last drops of your broken and bleeding hearts. 

Nails cut fresh crescents into sweaty skin; tongues and teeth and lips lavish dark marks on flesh, and words of unyielding love die in the air before they can soak into souls.

A calloused hand brushes against your throbbing clit. You twine your fingers in Hyunwoo’s hair to pull him close and clench around his length. With practiced ease you bring one another tumbling over the edge in ecstasy, his hot seed spilling slowly from your slit. Your ears catch the way your name rolls off his tongue; a plea thinly disguised as a moan of pleasure.  

You lie in each others’ embrace for a moment, basking in the heat and euphoria of being joined. But slowly, the warmth leeches away, sucking with it the blissful feelings. What is left is something cold and forlorn, a hollowness that gapes even wider than before. 

The grip of your fingers in his hair weakens and Hyunwoo rolls off of you, careful not to touch any more of you than necessary. The loss of his comfortable weight and the emptiness as he slides out of you is a painful punch to the gut; a reminder that he is no longer yours. 

He turns his back to you as he stands from the bed and gathers up his clothes. You do the same, accepting your shirt wordlessly from him when you cannot find it. 

“I’ll take your box out now,” he says, pulling on a fresh shirt.

“Thanks.” 

He gives a short nod but does not look at you. He is already distancing himself, but that small action feels as if he is standing on the other side of an ocean. You suck in a tight breath, forcing the tears and the hurt to stay back. There will be time to cry later.

You follow Hyunwoo out into the hallway and to the living room. He lifts the box with ease and waits patiently for you to open the front door. A quiet goodbye leaves your lips as you give one final look over the apartment; a farewell to many happy memories and the place that housed them all. 

The walk to your car is quick and quiet. Hyunwoo maneuvers the box into the backseat, shutting the door and opening yours in smooth succession.

“Thanks for your help,” you say again, slipping through the open door. He waits for you to get behind the steering wheel before closing it after you.

“No problem,” he answers through the open window, still looking anywhere but at you. “Are you sure you can carry the box on your own?”

“I’ll manage.”  

An awkward silence falls heavy around you, both of you at a loss for what to say next. Before, silences with him were full and comfortable, a calm peace that never demanded more. A pause that was content to wait for words or actions. Now, it sat wavering and jagged, uncertain of what to do. Another piece of your heart chips away in response.

When the spell is finally broken, it is by a quietly whispered wish from Hyunwoo, laden with the final remaining crumbs of whatever ardent feelings he once held for you.

“Be careful.” 

He looks at you, his eyes full of soft warmth. Your chest aches at the sight.

“You, too.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a half-smile and he steps away, shoving his hands into his pockets. He watches you drive away and you watch him in the rear-view mirror, but he turns away first.

The emotional damn you hastily built up finally collapses in on itself, and through salty tears, you drive to a new, unfamiliar home. 

it had been two whole months since the two of you had last met up in person

kihyun had been on tour, and whilst you had been exchanging texts, phone calls and face timing daily, it just wasn’t the same

so when the day he’d land finally arrived, you prepared a dinner composed of his favourite foods (including chicken, of course)

but as time ticked by, the food began to grow cold, and your mood soured

you left kihyun multiple texts and missed calls, only for him to finally reply with “hey sorry i forgot to tell you, but i’m having dinner with the staff. see you later.”

your appetite had long vanished, and you packed the food into tupperware boxes, storing them in the fridge and proceeding to go to bed

you awoke to the sound of your boyfriend stumbling into the room late at night

kihyun smiled and gave you a big hug, “hey sweetheart, i missed you”

the smell of alcohol filled your nostrils, as you shrugged him off and frowned, “did you drink?”

“we went out drinking to celebrate the end of the tour”

you sighed, “whatever, just go wash up, it’s late”

when kihyun returned, he was surprised to see you with your back turned to him, and he sidled into bed, reaching over for a hug

you pushed him off, “i’m not in the mood”

“what’s wrong?”

something in you snapped, and you sat up, glaring at him, “what’s wrong? you didn’t bother telling me that you wouldn’t be home for dinner, i had to call you and text you first! on top of that, you’re home drunk!”

he sat up, facing you with a frown, “look, we haven’t seen each other in two months and this is how you want to spend the night? arguing over silly things?”

“it is not silly, i made dinner for you, and i was worried something happened to you. the fact that we haven’t seen each other in months and you couldn’t be bothered to send me a quick text is why i’m upset. you obviously don’t really give a shit about me if i’m so forgettable.”

“i replied, didn’t i? i’m sorry but it slipped my mind okay? plus, my phone was on silent, and i-”

you cut him off, “i’m really not in the mood, kihyun. can we talk about this tomorrow morning?”

“if you’d just listen and stop being unreasonable, i-”

“you’re really starting to piss me off now”

“fine.” he replied, curt.

he switched the lights off and got back into bed

the space between the two of you left each of you feeling empty and cold, but the stubborn fire inside of you refused to relent.

after lying in bed with a series of thoughts running through your heads, the two of you tossed and turned until sleep claimed the both of you

you awoke to sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains on a quiet saturday morning, and you shuffled to the toilet to wash up

when you returned to the bedroom to find a change of clothes,

the bedroom door swung open, revealing your boyfriend with a tray of food in hand, “i made breakfast, i was thinking we could have it on the balcony today.”

you nodded mutely, making your way to the balcony and taking a seat as he placed the tray onto the table, taking a seat across from you

“do you have a hangover?” you asked, slightly concerned (after all, he was still your boyfriend, even if he was problematic)

“yeah, a little”

“good, i hope it hurts.” you retorted, as feelings of anger and annoyance towards him began to rise up in your chest

“i’m sorry. i left my phone on silent, and i forgot to text you. i know, i’m a bad boyfriend, but if you could just forgive me, i promise it won’t happen again.” kihyun admitted, fiddling with his fingers

“i understand, but it just really sucked for me last night, when i waited for you for an hour and the food i spent time making went cold. i thought we’d have a romantic date night but instead you forgot about me and came home tipsy.” you began to speak, inhaling a deep breath to keep as calm as possible, “if you really cared about someone, you wouldn’t make them wait.”

slight tears of frustration began to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away

seeing this, kihyun reached over and softly held your hend, his voice becoming tender, “i know it’s my fault. no matter how tired i was, i should have texted you as soon as i knew about the dinner plans. i love you so much, and i’m sorry for hurting you.”

you understood that he had probably been tired and uncomfortable from the flight, and it was an accident, “i forgive you.”

kihyun gave you a sweet smile, “so do you want to go out tonight? to make up for yesterday’s date”

“What are you talking about? It’s an amusement park. All there is are children and their parents and other couples.” Your eyes widen. “N-not that I think we’re a couple o-or anything..”

All your stuttering thankfully goes unnoticed because Hoseok is instead looking around focused on the area. No doubt he’s looking for exits and making note of any other patrons in the park that are suspicious. You release a sigh, almost disappointed that he didn’t notice your bumbling.

“There’s too many people that can recognize you.”

“I’m in disguise,” you argue. “It’ll be fine.”

“I highly doubt a face mask with a cartoon bear nose is going to adequately disguise you, Your Highness.”

“Well it won’t if you keep calling me that.”

“What else am I to call you?”

Rolling your eyes you pull the mask down to your chin and give him another look of annoyance. “I told you to call me by my name. The whole ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Majesty’ stuff is weird. Especially when it comes from you.”

“Your Highness, it would not be polite of me to call you anything else.”

Stepping forward to lower your voice you look up at his eyes. They’re so dark and piercing you have to hold back the shiver that wants to run down your spine. “Hoseok, we’re childhood friends. You have every right to call me my name.”

Hoseok releases a breath through his nose, his lips pursed. “You have four hours before you have to be at your father’s press conference. Which ride would like to do first, Your Highness?”

Taking a deep breath you realize Hoseok’s not going to have this argument with you now. Pasting on a happy smile, you wink as you pull the bear mask back over your mouth and nose. “The teacups!”

After the teacups, came the pirate ship. After the pirate ship, a small roller coaster. After the small one, you of course needed to right the much bigger one with the double loop-de-loop. Hoseok stayed on the ground for that one. You figured you could give him a break after he almost pushed a toddler out of the way to get off the last roller coaster.

As the cart came to stop, you spotted your bodyguard standing against a nearby tree, his arms crossed and his eyes on you. You smile at him and lift your hand to wave. At your actions his face softens and he waves back. The ride operator hits the button for the over-the-shoulder restraints to rise and you begin to climb out of the train.

Making your way towards the exit, a man bumps into you. Not expecting it, you stumble and fall into the arm railing. Your elbow hits the metal and you feel the weird zing that moves up your arm. The man barely mumbles an apology over his shoulder as he keeps moving. Sneering at him from behind your mask, you regain your balance and finish making your way off the ride.

You meet Hoseok at the exit but his eyes aren’t on you. Instead he’s watching the man who bumped into you with a piercing gaze. With pursed lips, you grab onto his arm but his eyes only flick to you before turning back to the man.

“Just leave it,” you murmur. “I’m sure it was an accident.”

“Maybe, but he didn’t even stop to properly apologize. What kind of person runs into someone and doesn’t apologize?”

“Not everyone has the same honor you do, Hoseok. Anyway, it’s fine, it was only my funny bone.”

Hoseok looks at you then with a pensive look. “I’m supposed to protect every part of you.”

“I’m sure I won’t die from an elbow bruise.” Giving a tug of his arm you ignore the worried look in his eyes. “Come on, we’re running out of time and I’m hungry.”

You sit at a table as Hoseok stands in line for pizza. Or at least you assume so; it’s crowded enough now that you’ve lost sight of him from your table. The sun is also starting to get hotter and the mask on your face is beginning to suffocate you. The table you are sitting at is the furthest from the concessions and somewhat tucked away. Figuring you could spare a quick minute, you pull the mask down to your chin and sigh in relief at the air hitting your full face.

Shutting your eyes, you take in the sunshine with a soft smile. There’s a jostling of the table bench and assuming it’s Hoseok back with food you turn with a grin. However when you open your eyes you come face to face with a man you’ve never before seen. He’s leering at you, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. Someone else sits behind you and you peek to see another man grinning at you.

“Look here, we’ve got ourselves a pretty one.” The first man reaches out and plays with a tendril of your hair.

With a sneer you snap your head away and glare at him. “Don’t touch me.”

The man behind you laughs. “She’s also a feisty one.”

You move to stand up. It didn’t seem like they recognized you and so you figured you had a chance at getting out of this. “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not interested. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m waiting for a friend.”

You manage to get both legs out from behind the bench but before you can take a step, the second man grabs your wrist. “But, baby, it looks like you’re alone.”

Flicking off his hand, you glare at him. “I said don’t touch me.”

“Listen, bitch, we’re being nice here.” The first man stands up and reaches forward. He yanks the mask off before dropping it to the ground. Stepping back, you try to turn away but the second man catches you again and holds you still. The first man steps forward, “Wait a second you look kinda familiar.”

The man behind you twists you around roughly to get a look at you. “She looks like that royal bitch.” The other man comes around to join his friend and squints at your face.

“She does, doesn’t she? We’d get good money for that.”

Panic rising in your chest, you wonder how no one in the area is coming to your rescue. You absolutely hate being saved but you were smart enough to know when you’re overpowered. These men were not small and the three of you knew who would win if it became physical.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “Now, like I said, I’m here with a friend.”

The men laugh at you and you feel rage replace the panic. Without caring about the consequences, you lift your foot and stomp as hard as you can on one of the men’s feet. It must’ve belonged to the one holding you because he grunts and lets go of you in shock. In the moment of surprise that you have, you shove the other man away and turn to run.

You only get a few steps away before you hear them shout. Peeking over your shoulder you see them racing after you. Before you can turn to see where you’re going, you bump into a steady body. The person drops the food they were holding as he lets out a grunt in shock. Looking up, your relief of finding someone to help grows exponentially when you recognize Hoseok.

Face crumpling in relief, you grip his body close to yours. “Oh thank God.”

“Your Highness? What’s wrong?”

“Excuse me, sir,” one of the men interrupts, slightly breathless. “You found our girl.”

Hoseok looks up then, a brow quirked. “And who are you?”

“That’s not important. We’ll just take our little friend here and go.”

Eyes turning dark, Hoseok wraps his arms around you and pulls you aside to place you behind him. His posture changes to rigid and even from behind you know the look on his face is murderous. The two men finally begin look nervous but they refuse to give up. Hoseok lets out a small chuckle. “I think you two are mistaken. She’s not going anywhere with you, and if I ever so much as see your faces again, you’ll regret ever speaking to her.”

When the men still refuse to stand down, one of them even taking a step forward, Hoseok moves aside his jacket to show what you know is his gun holster. The men blanch then and turn away. The first one looks back once more and spits at the ground at Hoseok’s feet. Your bodyguard tenses even further, but you tighten your hold on his body.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.” Your voice seems to remind Hoseok where he is and after a final glance at the two men, he turns to study you. His hands grip at your arms but it doesn’t hurt, instead it’s grounding. As he talks, his eyes are roaming over you from head to toe.“Are you okay? What happened? Did they hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No, they just scared me. They didn’t know how to take no for an answer is all.”

“Here, let’s get you a place to sit down.”

Hoseok finds another table, this one in the shade and sits you down. He takes a spot right next to you, his eyes never leaving your face. Reaching forward, he brushes a piece of hair from your face and the touch of his fingers on your face brings you to a realization.

“Oh, I lost my mask.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“And the food…you dropped it when I ran into you. I’m sorry…”

“I don’t care about that either.” Hoseok sighs. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “The park is busy; I’m sure the lines were long.”

“They weren’t,” Hoseok admits. His voice is low and his lowers his gaze in guilt. “I saw you looking at that giant bear at the shooting range game. I decided to give it a shot and try and get the bear for you as a surprise. I should’ve known all those games are rigged anyway.”

You couldn’t help the soft snort that leaves you. Hoseok gives you a slightly incredulous look.

“I just told you that I lied to you and you’re laughing?”

This time you let the laugh out completely. “That’s not a lie worth getting upset about. It’s actually kind of cute imagining you, the great Lee Hoseok, losing at a carnival game. Besides, I said I wasn’t hurt and it’s not your fault those idiots came up to me so don’t blame yourself for that either.”

Hoseok’s jaw clenches at the mention of the men and he scowls. “I shouldn’t have let them go.”

“I’d rather you let them go than shoot them in an amusement park. This place isn’t so big, I’m sure if we alert security they’d find them.”

“Yeah, let’s do that and then head out. You’ll be late otherwise.”

In the moment of chaos you forgot about the press conference you have to be in attendance for. With a soft groan, you lean your head back on the table. You curse those disgusting men for ruining the small amount of free time you have. Hoseok stays silent for a moment but then gently clears his throat. “I didn’t completely lose.”

Turning to look at him you frown in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Hoseok reaches into this jacket pocket then and pulls out a small bunny keychain. “I was able to knock down 3 pins so they let me choose a keychain.”

He holds it out to you and reaching up you take it and hold the ball of fluff in your fingers. Smiling up at him, you sit up straight again. “I got something out of this too.”

“What’s that?”

“You called me by my name a couple minutes ago.”

Hoseok frowns but it drops from his face quickly when he suddenly remembers that he did in fact use your name and not a title. Standing up, you playfully pinch his cheek and he pouts lightly.

“Come on,” you say. “I think I see a security kiosk nearby.”

You make it a few paces ahead of him before he catches up to you. His cheeks are little red still but you grin at the sight and reach out to take his hand. His cheeks redden more and you giggle at the sight.

“This is unseemly.” Hoseok tries for stern but just sounds bashful.

“And yet you haven’t pulled away.”

There’s a beat of silence between you and you almost expect Hoseok to regain composure and pull away. But instead the hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly and he moves to stand a little closer beside you.

Tall and thin and always threatening to snap in half if a particularly strong wind happened to pass by, but Hyungwon has never really taken any stock in Minhyuk's musings.

Minhyuk once described him like a willow.

Tall and thin and always threatening to snap in half if a particularly strong wind happened to pass by, but Hyungwon has never really taken any stock in Minhyuk's musings.

Hyungwon, though being the younger of the two, has never really known Minhyuk for being serious or for acting his age most of the time. Minhyuk is a bright ball of energy, something that used to piss Hyungwon off when they first met, but eventually, after a little prodding from Minhyuk, he managed to get over his initial aversion to the boy and let him into his life.

Slowly, they had become friends and even more slowly they became lovers. Hyungwon had never actually planned on letting his feelings for the elder show until Minhyuk had gotten drunk one night in their junior year of high school and kissed Hyungwon at the party they were at.

A very sober, very timid Hyungwon had kissed him right back and then pulled away when he realized that Minhyuk wasn't in the right state of mind to really consent to anything. Even something as simple as a kiss was pushing it.

So Hyungwon had backed off and let Hyunwoo take Minhyuk home, much too afraid of what he may have done with such an eager and willing Minhyuk hanging off his neck. And then the next day, Minhyuk acted like he had no memory of anything ever happening and Hyungwon eventually let that go too, much too invested in their friendship to let one drunken kiss ruin it.

They continued as such for some time after that, neither of them all too willing to make a move or to even acknowledge what they both knew. It took Hyunwoo and Hoseok's persistence and, thankfully, less alcohol for them to finally to sit down and discuss what had been going on between them since that fateful night back in high school.

Of course, they hadn't immediately begun dating either. Instead, Hyungwon insisted that they talk first and that the rest would follow if it really was meant to be. Minhyuk had readily agreed and they began flirting while they texted, learning new things about each other that their adolescent friendship hadn't had the chance to show them before.

Minhyuk likes cuddling and holding hands and he adores being the big spoon. Hyungwon had no qualms with any of these new developments and by their senior year in college, he and Minhyuk had moved into an apartment together. Hyunwoo and Hoseok came over often and it wasn't until Hyunwoo texted Hyungwon to help him get an anniversary gift for Hoseok did Hyungwon realize that his two older friends had been together for years and he had somehow never noticed it before.

His head must've been so far up Minhyuk's ass that he had missed this important and crucial piece of information. Minhyuk, admittedly, had thrown a bigger fit than Hyungwon thought him possible, but Minhyuk has always managed to surprise him where it counts the most really.

And maybe that's why life has been so well with Minhyuk. They got married a few months ago, when same-sex marriage had finally been legalized, and they had timed their wedding so that it wouldn't coincide with that of their friends'.

The wedding had been spectacular and everyone who had mattered to them came. Everyone that is except for Hyungwon's father.

Hyungwon always knew that his father had only been tolerant of Hyungwon's sexuality because there hadn't been a possibility of Hyungwon actually marrying another man, thus ensuring that one way or another, his son would end up with a woman who would bear his grandchildren and continue the family line. But once the situation had presented itself where Hyungwon really could marry Minhyuk, he took it with both hands and never looked back.

His father hadn't came, and his mother long since dead had only been present in spirit. Minhyuk hadn't left his side that day and had insisted that they leave earlier than what was planned just so that they could hide out in their car in a parking lot somewhere while Hyungwon cried before they drove to the airport to get on a flight for their honeymoon.

And while Hyungwon sometimes misses his father, he knows he would never have chosen the lifestyle his father had planned for him. Not when Minhyuk exists and especially not when Minhyuk loves him without any reservations.

Minhyuk had told him during their honeymoon that Hyungwon was still a willow. Tall and thin, but if a particularly strong wind were to pass by, Hyungwon wouldn't threaten to snap in half. Instead, Hyungwon would move with the wind, following its flow and intensity just to make sure that above all, he perseveres and continues on with life just as he had been and just as he will continue to do.

-x-

I was clearing the tables from the dinner rush when I heard the door open. “We are closed,” I called out, silently praying that the late customer would simply leave and disregard the signage on the door. We weren’t closing for another hour, but I was hoping for an early night in because the pounding behind my eyes was growing. 

“We aren't here for service.”

The voice as deep and familiar, and I turned to meet the smirking faces of Hyunwoo and Changkyun. They were a welcomed sight and I appraised them with a large grin. 

“Don’t tell anyone I’m closing early,” I said with a wink, ushering them to the bar and pouring three glasses of left-over rationed water. I handed the cups off to them and we all cheered each other before drinking greedily. Changkyun was still in his trainee uniform, bright eyes and vibrant in a way that had my heart clenching for him. Hyunwoo looked less pristine in a flour smacked shirt that hugged his every muscle. He still had a bit of remnant powder on his face and he looked tired. “What can I do you for boys?” I asked, taking the final gulp of my water and putting the glass in the automated cleanser.

Hyunwoo finished his glass, sliding it forward for me to take with a lazy smile. “I just wanted to see how you are holding up?”

“Can’t stay long,” Changkyun said with a sly look, “but we wanted to make sure you didn’t lose your mind yet.”

I couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh into the empty restaurant. It felt good to laugh genuinely for once and I was thankful that Changkyun was the one to draw it out. “I lost my mind a long time ago,” I giggled as I relaxed against the bar. “But overall I feel fine. I do keep getting a headache by the end of the night. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good,” said Hyunwoo. “That means that the flower is working. It will go away eventually.”

“Eventually,” I mocked with a jest, and Hyunwoo smiled wider at my joke. As promised they both didn’t stay long. One glass of water was drunk and a few jokes were shared between us. It was strange to feel at ease around the two considering how apprehensive I was when I had first met them.

Changkyun was slowly becoming a soft spot and I could feel my affection for the young boy grow. He was so innocent yet so wise at the same time. Everything about him exuded wonderment as if he saw our world not as it is, but how it could be. Hyunwoo, on the other hand, was wholly wise and yet so kind. He was warm in an almost paternal way that allowed me to open up to him easily.

Normally my mind would be screaming at me to put my guard up. It would be telling me to not trust them because nefarious deeds are often hidden by seemingly good intentions. However this wasn’t a normal circumstance, and my head was muffled by soft blue petals that told me to trust them.

And so I did. 

-x-

August 2nd, 2018

Like clockwork, the bell of the shop dinged just as I was wiping down my final table. Taking the dirty rag in my hand, I turned to tell the customer off. However, the words died in my throat when the literal bane of my existence strolled through the threshold with a borderline arrogant gait.

“Jooheon,” I said curtly, returning to my closing chores as he strode to the bar and took his usual seat. 

“Jae,” he replied, watching me with sharp eyes as I flitted around and prepped to close. Soon enough the till was closed and the floor was clean, the silence stretching between us. Throwing my apron in the back I grabbed my keys and bag, giving him a raised brow in question. 

“Would you like to join us again tonight?” Simple and to the point, Jooheon left the proposition hanging in the air. I internally battled with myself on the pros and cons of joining them again. The headaches were the only major negative effect, but I could also subtly feel my body screaming for a fix of the flower. Hyunwoo told me that the effects would eventually fade away, but was it worth partaking in again if I could get another fix? The heightened abilities were nice, but was this whole thing addictive?

I had seen what happens when someone becomes addicted to an altering substance. Hell, I’d sold and contributed to many peoples addictions to the bottle. I always told myself I would never be dependent on anything like that, not only for my sake but also for the sake of Mina growing up. 

Would partaking in the flower cause me to break that promise? Was it even worth finding out?

“Tempting,” I drolled as I moved towards the door, Jooheon hot on my heels. “But I think I will pass. I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. Changkyun, Hyunwoo, and I want to extend the offer.”

“Is that so?” I questioned as we stepped out into the warm night. Closing up completely, Jooheon and I started walking away from the row. We didn’t make it far before I stopped in my tracks, choosing to go the opposite direction before I could change my mind. “Tell them I said thank you, but I think I will just go home for the night.”

“Get back safe, Jae.” He gave me a small smile before turning on his heel and walking in the direction of the village’s edge.

“Jooheon,” I called out into the still darkness. He turned to look at me, continuing to walk backward and getting further away with each step. 

“Yeah?”

“Promise me two things. One, Mina never finds out about the flower.” He paused at the mention of my sister. Slowly nodding, I could see his eyes flash and his shoulders tense. It was as if the mere mention of her turned the annoyingly intelligent man into a shy schoolboy. “Second,” I said moving away and into the night, “Stop leaving your shoes messily by the front door. If I trip on them one more time I’ll set them on fire.”

I didn’t stay long enough to see his reaction, choosing to take the path home and promptly passing out from exhaustion and the pounding headache.

Sure enough, the next morning there was a dirty pair of men's shoes tucked away by the front door. 

-x-

August 5th, 2018

I was definitely feeling the absence of the flower by the time the tenth day rolled around. I felt normal in an almost odd way. There were weights on my shoulders and feet, slowly dragging me down and making me sluggish. To others, I looked like I was moving normally, but I felt like a snail. The only positive was when my hearing returned to normal. I was no longer roused by Jooheon sneaking out in the morning, rather the alarm on my watch was my wake up call. I couldn’t hear the chatter of customers vividly, nor were colors any brighter. 

I had effectively returned to normal and my body was craving the blue petals.

My suspicions had been confirmed, and I was thankful that I didn’t succumb to the addictive temptation.

The morning of my tenth day was hotter than all the others. Humidity and heat mingled together to coat the whole village in a layer of sweat. Men, women, and trainees trudged to work miserably under the glare of the sun. Silently like zombies, we all moved in tandem, going about our bleak lives in service to the Jeongs.  

It took me longer to get to the restaurant than usual. My slow footsteps were emphasized by the drops of sweat from my brow and I could already tell that today was going to be a miserable one. 

My negative prediction was proven to be true when I saw Jooheon pacing outside the door like a man possessed. He had a crazed look in his eye and I was almost apprehensive to approach him. I was close to turning around and heading home, but before I could move he saw me and called out.

“Jae! I need your help!” He rushed forward and took hold of my wrist to drag me closer to the door as if it would get me moving faster. I retched out of his hold, giving him a glare that had him slightly stepping away. 

Placing my key in the lock, I gave him a once over and took in his frazzled appearance. He looked anxious and rushed, something that greatly contrasted from his nonchalant persona. “You better not have done anything stupid Jooheon,” I hissed, turning the lock and making my way inside with him hot on my heels. 

Before I could even get my bearings he was slamming a pile of notes on the counter. “I need a gun.”

I hesitantly took the notes, counting the sheer amount of them with strangely curious fingers. “You want something nice, huh?” He shook his head quickly, avoiding my suspicious eyes. I was so close to rejecting the offer based on the sheer amount of knowledge I had on the boy, but the money was too good and it would help Mina and I pay the rent for the next few months easily. “I may have something, but it could take a few days.” Pocketing the money, I made a mental note on what to ask my supplier for. 

“I can’t wait for a few days. Just give me two of what you have now.” The urgency in his voice took me back.

I looked at him skeptically, contemplating what exactly he would be planning. “I’m going to be pissed off with whatever you are planning on doing, aren’t I?”

“Probably.” He glanced towards the door, willing it to remain closed so he could be in and out quickly. Flitting between the door and me, Jooheon’s anxiety was rolling off him in waves. 

Narrowing my eyes, I asked him the one question that was plaguing me. “Is Mina involved in whatever you are about to do? Because if she is you know I won’t hesitate to kill you.” The last words came out with a dark growl.

“Absolutely not.” He said it with such resolve that I almost, almost believed him. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the allure of the money. Taking the notes, I stuffed them away before heading down to the storage room. Grabbing two handguns, I brought them up and slid them to him in a small black bag. Just as he slung it over his shoulder the first two customers of the day strolled in, no doubt trying to find an escape from the heat. 

Jooheon didn’t say anything, choosing to simply run out of the restaurant with haste, earning a glare from the few customers that got in his way. I didn’t have time to chase after him or do anything else before the filling of tables took all my concentration away. Throughout the day any spare thought I had was focused on Jooheon and his suspicious actions, but I couldn’t do anything without looking complicit or suspicious. After all, I was the one who sold him the weapons.

The lunch rush came and went in a flurry. I welcomed the small gap between lunch and dinner, resigning myself to tidy up and make sure I wouldn’t get too behind once the dinner patrons came in. It was monotonous, as every day usually was, but it was a good distraction from Jooheon’s sketchy behavior a few hours prior. 

“Sweeping? Check. Mopping? Check. Rinsing down the bar?” I checked the water rations of the restaurant and saw plenty of water left over. “To-do,” I hummed and set to the task. Between the gushes of water from the handheld hose, the door opened and I didn’t notice the patron come and sit at the bar. 

“Jae,” they whispered, causing me to jump about a foot in the air. 

“Holy shit!” I dropped the hose, splashing water all over my clothes and the floor. I was started by the onslaught of cold water, but all that went out the window when I saw the distress on Minhyuk’s face. He had dirt dusted over his cheeks and they were streaked with dried tear tracks. His eyes were red and puffy, practically screaming at me that he had been crying.

“Are you okay?” There was a genuine concern in my voice, something that even surprised me. But the shaking of his shoulders brought out that maternal instinct that gravitated towards Mina and, lately, Changkyun. 

“Jooheon told me that I c-could come here if I needed help.” His voice sounded defeated, almost broken and each word was a glass shard in my chest. 

“He said that?” Looking around, he simply nodded his head as fresh tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. “I mean, sometimes. I can get you something that you… yeah—”

Cutting me off he leaned in closer, practically leaning over the bar. “Can you get me rations? Or do you only have weapons?”

“I have both.” The question took me off guard as Minhyuk was one of the last people I’d expect to come… buying. 

“Gas? Do you have gas rations?” Urgency swam behind his eyes, and for the second time today I was questioning if I should tell a customer yes or no. The X-Clan were proving to be the total bane of my existence. 

“Y-yeah I do, but they are easily traceable so I don’t usually sell them.” He looked absolutely defeated as if I took any and all hope from him. He leaned back on the stool, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. There was a complete cloud over him that seemed to even dull his bright hair and eyes. It was at this moment that I saw the similarities with Hoseok. 

Despite being brothers, they looked relatively dissimilar. The only major indicator of their parentage was arguably the rare white of their hair and almost ethereal looks. However, now that I was seeing the younger up close and personal it was easier to see the little ticks and movements of his face that paralleled that of his insufferable older brother. They both had eyes that portrayed emotions like a television screen, flashing from one feeling to the next and displaying their state for all the world to see if one just took the time to look. 

I’d seen rage, disbelief, and curiosity in Hoseok’s eyes. I’d also seen them blown out with euphoria. This time around I was seeing the other Lee brother hang his head in disappointment with pain swimming through the dark irises. It was something that I knew I didn’t want to see again. 

I let out a tired sigh and mumble, telling him to stay put before hanging up a closed sign, locking up, and heading down to the storage room for the second time that day. The cold room welcomed me with frosty arms and I discreetly wished that the X-Clan would leave me in peace for one damn day. 

I grabbed a ration of gas and, after double checking that it was full, headed back upstairs. In an instant, Minhyuk seemed to shed his forlorn attitude once he saw the ration in my hands. Like a mother handing her child a toy, I gave the ration to Minhyuk when he eagerly reached for it. 

Long gone was dull look in his eyes, rather it was replaced by a new determination that brought color to his cheeks. He looked angry and resolved all at once.

“Just take it and go.” He all but sprinted out of the store, getting stuck behind the locked door for a moment and fumbling with the lock. Rounding the bar I unlocked the door for him, but before he could leave I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to look at me. “Be careful, okay?” Once last fleeting nod and a curve of his lips were all he gave me before running out into the midday sun. 

As I watched him go I realized that the X-Clan was becoming a little too comfortable with me. In the span of ten days I’d seen Jooheon twice— not counting the nights he spent in my home—and three other members at least once. Granted I had a growing soft spot for Changkyun but the visit from Minhyuk was a shock because he and Hyungwon were arguably the last people I expected to come to me. We’d exchanged only a few words, virtually none up until the morning after I first took the flower with them. He and the tall, beautiful boy were usually in their own world together. 

The sheer fact was that they were arguably growing bolder and bolder just by coming to me so casually. But I knew with every fiber of my being that this increasingly bold attitude would end up coming back to bite me in the ass. 

Despite knowing how precarious of a situation I was in, why was a feeling exhilarated?

It's not enough that you already feel bad for bailing on your best friend yesterday for a freaking assignment you need to hand in last minute but you're very much late the following morning from turning in said essay at the university. Of course, you happen to have such an old-school professor with outdated preferences like your Communication prof who requires not only online submission but also a printed version on his desk by 9am on a fine Monday morning. This is just great.

So when you finally stumble out of the bathroom, half-ready with still messy hair but at least a decent makeup, you're welcomed by silence - which is odd because your roommate is usually up earlier than you - but catching a sight of her shoes by the door, you come to the conclusion that she arrived home safely. And she probably had fun by herself, otherwise she wouldn't have stayed out for that long. You make a mental note to ask her about it later but right now, you don't have time for such things.

You have already put on your shoes by the time you notice that your favourite hoodie isn't hung by the door and you aren't supposed to cross the rug with your shoes on - house rules number eleven. Sigh. You really don't have time to go back, so you just grab your friend's jacket from the stool and put it on. Even if it's a bit too big, it's better than freezing in the cold outside. You'll apologize later for taking it without her permission but now you're in a hurry. Your first stop is the copy and printer shop on the campus and the odds might be, for once, in your favour because there's a free printer you can use and print out the material quickly. The bored shop assistant takes your money as if it hurt him but no, you're a responsible adult, so you don't comment on it. Then with the papers finally in your hands twenty minutes before the deadline you make a run for the professor's office. You are actually panting in the elevator (because gosh who the hell has their freaking office on the fourth floor?) when the guy next to you inside the metal prison smirks down at you.

"Hey, nice jacket you have there," he compliments. At least you hope it's just an innocent compliment and he's not trying to flirt with you while you're in your worst condition. That would be a bit weird.

"Thanks. Do I know you?" You look up at him, gaze lingering a tad too long over the ginger looks, the sharp eyes and the wide grin. Nope you're pretty sure you don't know each other. You would remember a face like his.

"No but I know whose jacket that is," he points at the black material you're wearing over your loose white shirt. Not knowing what he's talking about, you look down at yourself momentarily confused but then it clicks. Oh, your best friend knows such handsome guys? "Cool," you shrug, not wanting to drag the conversation more than the short elevator ride allows. It's not really your business then, your roommate definitely has a good reason not to introduce the two of you.

As the red neon number turns from 2 to 3, you think it’s going to be the end of this whole chit-chat but the guy keeps it going and gosh, you really don't have time for this.

"I'm actually glad we met. I wanted to ask you something," he blurts out suddenly and you don't know what to make out of it.

"Me?" You blink at him in question and pray for the elevator to go a little faster.

"Yeah, you. I wanted to ask your opinion on putting the Runaway Baby cover at the end of the concert. Do you think it's a good outro or it should rather be an intro?" Handsome Guy asks as casually as if you were talking about your favourite ice cream flavour but you totally lost his train of thought when he mentioned Runaway Baby or whatever. But lucky for you the elevator dings signalling your arrival on the fourth floor.

"Sorry, I really don't know what you're talking about. I don't know anything about music," you excuse yourself quickly rushing out towards the professor's office.

“Come on, I'm sure that's not true. You don't have to be intimidated by me just because I'm his friend. He didn't tell you about me, huh? What an awful friend." The ginger guy follows you, so you are more and more convinced that he thinks you're someone else. A leather jacket isn't that uncommon, probably hundred girls run around in the same one.

"Look, I gotta go. It was nice to chat but I have a paper to submit," you tell him and without waiting for him to say anything, you basically flee and run to the office as if your life depended on it. Well, your grade actually does.

You swear the professor has an almost disappointed expression on his face when you made it in time and it haunts you all the way to your favourite breakfast place on the campus. You need a big mug of coffee with lots of whipped cream because after the all-nighter you just pulled you deserve the sugar bomb. You add a croissant to your order too because you haven't had breakfast yet and just as you're ready to dive into this heaven, somebody stops by at your table.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here. Can I join?”

It's Handsome Guy from earlier with that happy grin on his face and internally coo at how his eyes seem to disappear into crescent moons when he smiles. He has a milkshake in his hand - what is he, nine? - and looks at you expectantly, patiently waiting for your answer.

“Sure,” you mumble because you don't mind the company even if you're a bit embarrassed about what happened earlier. You hope he doesn't think you run off because of him, but if he did, he probably wouldn't be here, right? Or who knows, maybe he still wants your opinion on a topic you don't know anything about.

The guy sits down in front of you and actually facing him, you find it kind of funny how your outfits reflect each other: a plain white shirt and a leather jacket on top. You take a sip of your drink and then to break the sudden moment of awkwardness, you point at the earbuds still emitting music over the table.

“Can I listen?”

The guy seems taken back for a moment but then he chuckles and holds out the earbuds for you to take. His fingertips are soft as they brush against your skin when you take them.

“Oh, sure. It's just a demo though, I'm revising it right now. So constructive criticism is welcomed,” he tells you in advance as he replays the song to the very beginning.

“Are you a music major?” You blink in surprise but you aren't sure what makes you so dumbfounded. The guy literally asked you about music the moment he could and now his eyes are sparkling like a kid's during Christmas but still, you have to ask.

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” you conclude after his short answer and put the buds in your ears waiting for music to fill the space. It starts off slow with piano then after the first verse suddenly it becomes heavy. The singer has a really powerful vocal and the lyrics are great. And there's something about the instruments, you aren't sure but it's pretty unique-sounding, so you're one hundred percent honest when you say: “It's a great song."

There's something sheepish in the music major's smile when he takes back the earbuds after three minutes of intensively staring at you. You're pretty sure he had you blushing a bit just by looking at you.

"Well of course you think so, it's Kihyun's band. We wrote it together for Royal Rebels."

The alliterative name makes you stop for a second. It sounds familiar but suddenly you don't remember when or where you heard about it. You narrow your eyes while thinking and dig deep into your memories but the lack of sleep doesn't help at all, so you give up quickly.

"So you tell me Royal Rebels is a band?"

"Yeah, an alternative rock one. Like the one you just heard," the guy says while tapping a rhythm on his phone's screen.

"Do you sing?" you ask curious whether it was his voice on the track or no. To be honest, from his speaking tone you'd expect him to have a deeper singing voice, but you never know, right? The guy chuckles as if you told him the joke of the century.

"Nah. I'm not officially in the band. But I help them write songs."

"Congrats I guess,” you mumble not knowing what else to say while still munching on your croissant.

Maybe that Kihyun dude is some famous musician you should know of but you really have no idea. Music is something you just listen to but aren't involved in.

"I have embarrassing stories to tell you about him if you're curious," Handsome Guy says and it probably should be a nice deal but you aren't one for such stories about strangers you don't know.

“I don't really care about embarrassing stories,” you admit and see in the other's puzzled expression that he didn't expect this answer. Well, you are a girl of surprises. And maybe a bit reckless too as you make a request: “Tell me about yourself, or anything. Just take my mind off uni. The semester's end is killing me.”

“Ah tell me about it,” the guy smiles and as he does there's milk moustache just over his upper lip. Adorable. Just like his shy laugh when he wipes it off when you pass him a napkin.

Jooheon, as you finally get to know, is in his final year of Music Production. He should have graduated last year but he did a yearlong internship in the States, so he couldn't. He has been back for this semester and started working together with other artists while working on his own mixtape. It takes a bit of pleading but he promises you to let you listen when it's ready. He even makes an impromptu rap about the menu and you laugh so carefree like you haven't done in so long and you can literally feel the stress melting away. From the uptight, bit rude girl from the morning, you are slowly turning back into yourself and smiling more. It's hard not to around Jooheon, you realize because he keeps on joking with you and telling funny stories like that cursed 13th Friday when his roommate dropped his phone onto his face and he, himself, walked into a glass wall instead of through the automatic door.

Milkshake and coffee long gone, plate empty you still don't move from your table. You enjoy this moment way too much to end it abruptly even if minutes pass quicker now in good company. It's really not fair. And everything just clicks so well with Jooheon. The more you go on, the more you get to know him, the less you want to tell him the truth, that you aren't whoever he thinks you are. But of course, the truth has to be laid out on the table sooner or later and it's for the best to get over with as soon as possible. Still, it almost makes you choke on your own saliva what Jooheon asks next:

“So you and Kihyun are… a thing?” he inquires and it's so uncharacteristically shy of him you don't know what to make of it. Is he worried you might say yes? Does he hope you won't?

Anyways, you don't keep up the fake facade anymore and just blurt out the truth:

“What? Sorry I have no idea who is this Kihyun guy you always talk about."

"Uhm, the guy whose jacket you wear," Jooheon points at your outfit quite puzzled by your answer. But you're even more surprised by his answer. You look down at the comfortable, worn material. This can't be a guy's jacket, can it?

"No. It's my roommate's," you shake your head and you can literally see the cogs turning in Jooheon's head as his mouth hangs agape.

"Wait. Weren't you with Kihyun yesterday?" he asks suspiciously and you let out a sigh thinking back on yesterday. Oh how you wish you were out instead of stuck in the apartment all day long.

"I was on a romantic date with my assignment," you admit rather dramatically and it makes the guy laugh so hard you fear for the life of the glasses on the table.

"Oh my god, I really thought you are Kihyun's girl," he hides his face in his hands in embarrassment, still smiling wide.

"Aaand does it matter?" you singsong while fondling with the zipper of the jacket, "Well I would feel really bad for flirting with a friend's girl," Jooheon looks up with a hint of coy smile in the corner of his smile.

You lean forward, elbows resting on the table and ask boldly: "Are we flirting then?"

From this close you see the sparks in the boy's eyes framed by the ginger locks hanging onto his forehead.

“I hope so,” he nods to himself and he mimics your position which easily makes you smile once again. You have never enjoyed a cat and mouse game so much. You haven't found the guy who made it seem natural instead of a forced power play, so this feeling is freeing.

“Oh boy you have to try harder than that,” you tease but it's actually very nice knowing that he wants something from you. It makes your insides like jelly and fills you with excitement.

“Oh believe me, I will,” Jooheon promises right away and you will just have to take his word for it. But all the what ifs dissolve from your mind when he asks you out straightforwardly out of the blue. “Let me take you somewhere Friday evening if you're free.”

“Well... let me check my calendar,” you purse your lips as if you were deep in thought but then quickly no. “Okay, I guess, you can take that time slot. What's on your mind?”

It's not that you don't like surprises - because you do, look at how this day turns out - but you like to be ready for what's about to come. Especially because of Jooheon's mischievous smile.

”You will see. Just give me your number, so I can send you the details. But for now, do you wanna grab lunch somewhere?”

Oh, time really flies when you enjoy your time together with someone, you realize once again as you glance at your watch and see the time. You have actually started to get hungry because that one croissant wasn't much, so the question actually has perfect timing.

“Yeah, let's go,” you nod and stand up ready to leave. Jooheon follows your lead and both of you start walking towards the exit in sync when someone literally jumps in front of you.

“Excuse me guys, I just wanna tell you that your couple outfits are really cool. Hope you enjoyed your stay, have a nice day!” a waitress comes up to you then waves goodbye too soon for your to process the whole event. You just stand there dumbfounded until Jooheon burst out laughing.

“See? We look cool next to each other,” he smiles at you and pats your jacket lightly over your back. In the mirror on the coffee shop's wall, you can now actually see how it looks on you and you immediately realize how Jooheon knew that the jacket can't be yours. It has Royal Rebels written on the back in a pretty cursive font. Ah of course, it belongs to the band members, so Jooheon knew that the jacket can't be yours. But how did it end up with your best friend then? That was the question.

The next thing you know: Jooheon's face close to you, eyes shining like thousand stars and your heart does a backflip.

You are firmly on one side of that scale and it has nothing to do with the way his tongue runs alongside the most sensitive of your parts, taking you to your highest highs as you clench around the expert tip of his tongue that could so easily ruin lives.

You unclasp your fingers out of his hair, lungs still struggling to fill with air after it got knocked out of you while Changkyun gives a pat on your thighs, pulling back with a satisfied smirk, lips glistening with your release. He looks very proud of himself as he jumps in bed next to you, propping his arms behind his head. Wordlessly, you stand up and pull your underwear and trousers on, then throw him his t-shirt.

“We need to be at Hyunwoo’s in 20 minutes, get dressed.”

“What if we don’t go?” he says. “We get some pizza, put on a shitty movie and get some cuddles in.”

“Cuddles?!” You ask, frowning. “What’s gotten into you lately, you’re acting weird. Are you going all soft on me?” 

Changkyun thinks for a long second, his eyes scanning your face for any indication on whether you think going soft would be good or not. “Would that be so terrible?” The laugh you let out in response claws at his heart.

“Stop joking around. Look everyone’s already there, come on.”

Changkyun is quiet the entire bus trip to your friend’s house. He is in no mood for a party when his brain’s going a hundred miles per hour with vivid images of you and he chastises himself for allowing this to happen, to fall for the one person he promised he wouldn’t. There’s anger bubbling in his stomach at the way you’re sitting next to him, completely oblivious of the grip you’ve taken on his heart, on his entire existence and he feels like he’s about to burst at the seams if he doesn’t let it out somehow.

Changkyun disappears from your side as soon as you step inside Hyunwoo’s house. His only goal for tonight is to drink his feelings away and that’s exactly what the stacked bar is going to do. He grabs a small bottle of rum and plops himself down on the couch next to two people he’s never met, and he never will because he spares them no second glance, even when they’re trying to include him in the conversation.

He hates the way you have no trouble starting mingling with people right away. Changkyun watches intently as he nurses the bottle to his lips. You look so bright and beautiful greeting the host and his jock friends and he despises it; he despises that you’re the only thing on his mind lately. Twenty years he’s known you and he never thought he would end up caught in this moment like a fool, pining for someone who doesn’t share his feelings, at least not in the way he wants them to. He is a much too rational and proud person to accept his fate as a victim of his heart; that weak, stupid heart that decided it would only beat faster for one person only: you.

You don’t see each other for most of the party. You are usually inseparable, but tonight Changkyun’s avoiding you, choosing instead to waste away in corners of the room without ever speaking to anyone. He watches the party goers, judging every step they take until you catch his eye for a split second with the way you smile or do that annoying hair flip over your shoulder or fiddle with the hem of your dress as you speak to someone. Normally, he would have been out of there as soon as he realized he wasn’t in the mood for any social gatherings, but he’s stubbornly sticking it out tonight, refusing to let you out of his sight.

It’s about 3am when the party winds down and people go their own ways; everyone except himself, you, Hyunwoo and a couple other friends who decide to catch the sunrise together from the living room floor. 

“There’s only one thing we should be doing right now,” one guy with a creepy smile suggests. He’s wearing a boisterous floral shirt that Changkyun finds absolutely disgusting and he’s sitting cross legged in the middle of a fouton like he’s the king of the castle. “Never have I ever anyone?”

There’s a whoop of approval around the room and someone is already filling the shot glasses with poison, then one by one they start spilling questions.

“Never have I ever had sex in a public space,” red haired girl whose name Changkyun cannot remember offers with an innocent smile. He drinks, you drink, and exchange a quick knowing look. That was pretty early on at the start of this friends with benefits thing. Having sex in the Swedish literature aisle of your library was not either of your proudest moments, but it earned a chuckle every time it got brought up. You’d promised the library was off limits after that.

Two rounds in, everyone starts getting rowdier as the question become more revealing than Changkyun is willing to let know. He feigns a stomach ache and pauses his drinking; you, on the other hand, barely glance towards him as you become enraptured with the group’s stories. Your cheeks are dusted in red as you drink for yet another racy questions and you smile shyly when people inevitably ask for details. Changkyun doesn’t hear anything. He’s tuned out the voices, the noises, all his senses are just drowning in the way you’re slouched against a couch, tucking your hair behind your ear and wetting your pretty, sinful lips that he never gets to kiss like he wants to. Everyone disappears and it’s just you. 

“-kyun?” The call of his name pulls him out of his momentary reverie. “It’s your turn.”

They all fall silent waiting for him to say something and Changkyun’s eyes are fixed into yours. He licks his lips, takes a deep breath and says, “Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.”

The air feels heavy as the words float around the living room that stinks of booze and people. Changkyun doesn’t even wait for anyone to drink before he downs his entire glass. 

“I’m not in the mood to play anymore,” you say, pushing yourself up off the floor and storming to the exit.

Good job, Changkyun, you’ve really done it this time.

“Wait, where are you going?!” Changkyun chases after you, but you speed up every time you feel he’s near. “Hey! Stop!”

You come abruptly to a halt and he stops several feet behind you. When you eventually get the courage to turn around and face him, you are fighting back tears.

“Why would you say that?” you whisper.

“Because it’s true. Because I—“

“Don’t say it. Please don’t say you love me.”

In spite of it, Changkyun blurts out almost immediately. “I love you.”

“Changkyun!!” his name comes out in a sob and it’s the last straw before your tears begin streaming down your flushed cheeks. He knows he should feel guilty. He feels everything but that. He feels free, weightless, you’re finally aware. “It was our rule, that we wouldn’t fall in love. You said you wouldn’t.”

“That was a year ago! How could I have known the effect you’d end up having on me? How could I have known you would end up being the only person I want and need.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t mean that.”

“I might be drunk but I mean every single word.”

You sob again and fall into a crouch on the pavement, face buried into your arms. Normally, he would be your shoulder to cry on whenever you needed and now he couldn’t. His fingers itch to grab you by the shoulders, to bury themselves into your hair as he held you. He never wanted to be the reason for your tears and now he didn’t know how to make it better.

“I’m sorry, I tried to stop myself.” 

“How did you try? By having more sex together?” You are right, that was a lie. He didn’t really try. He should have put an end to it as soon as he realized things were changing, but he couldn’t. He became intoxicated, he wanted, no, he needed more of you, more of your time, more of your body, more of your mind. You’d started this relationship out of a mistake, a simple yearning to know what it would be like that ended in a year long situation. It was great for a while, but Changkyun should have known it wouldn’t last and he couldn’t make you love him, not like that. He’d been selfishly holding on and now it was painfully sinking in. Your waning sobs become sad laughter. “You know, I always thought it would be me,” you confess, “that I’d catch feelings and ruin everything. Funny, right?”

“Hilarious,” he says sarcastically. “I take it it’s over.”

You stand up and use a sleeve of your dress to wipe the tear stains on your face. “You think?! Maybe we shouldn’t have started it in the first place.” 

“Don’t say that. It will kill me if you’re going to regret this whole year. Give me that, at least.”

Changkyun is your best friend. He looks like your best friend. But at that moment he doesn’t sound like himself any longer. He sounds like a fool in love; he sounds like you two years ago banging on your ex-boyfriend’s door pathetically begging him to take you back. Changkyun has been there through that and through everything else. You pity him and his foolish heart and you almost wish you could have given him yours back in the same way just to spare him the ache that’s yet to come.