#mysmes fic

In all fairness, you had meant to clean up the blood before Seven got home.

But it had been a rather tiring day; a tiring, exhausting, not-so-very-comfortable, bloody day. Oh, how the day had been bloody.

It was also only 2 pm.

But you were on your period, so you were allowed to announce the day as ended before it had even begun. Right?

Usually your monthly flows were relatively well-contained, provided you were provided for of course – that is with “all-night” pads (false – they lasted 3-5 hours max on your heaviest days) and supersized tampons (you rolled your eyes at the arbitrary naming of tampon sizes – I mean what’s so “super” about recreating The Shining every day for a week once a month anyway?).

The silver lining in the sea of red was that, as an adult, you were now fairly adept with dealing with Mother Nature’s gifts, a feat that only took many soiled pants, innumerable ruined bedsheets, and the adolescent trauma of tied sweaters around your hips – to accomplish.

You made a mental note to talk about that last one with your therapist next week…

“Ugh,” you let out a groan as you blearily blinked your eyes open. The sunlight streamed through the window blinds in the bedroom that you and Saeyoung shared.

Well, if he were here.

“Disgusting.” You muttered as you yawned and started to disentangle your sticky legs from the sheets.

Your hacker boyfriend had gotten called away late last night, err – more like early morning. Very early morning, you mentally amended with a displeased grunt. He left in a hurry, promising a quick return as he lobbed this and that into a scuffed duffle bag.

“I’ll be back for dinner, my sweetie!” He ruffled your hair and kissed the corner of your upturned mouth, bouncing on the balls of his feet like it wasn’t 1:46 AM. And like he wasn’t about to leave his sleepy girlfriend alone for the night.

“Really?”

“Why – would the Great 707 ever lie to his darling kitty?” Seven grasped at his chest, a look of mock hurt exaggerated across his naturally goofy features.

Resisting a grin at his silly antics, you made him promise to return safely. And by dinnertime, nonetheless. “I’m going to want ice cream tomorrow evening.” You stated drily with a slight twitch of your eyebrow.

“Ice cream?” Seven had a subtly puzzled expression, which he rapidly exchanged for his charming grin, “Of course! My princess requests!” And with that – a kiss on your hand, and a pat on the head to the robotic cat standing guard at the flat’s entrance – the secret agent had disappeared into the night, the last sign of his leave being that of the revved engine from one of his prized sports cars.

In retrospect, maybe you should have been more explicit when hinting that you were going to be on your period.

But you were on your period, and he was a 20 something year old man, and once again, you were allowed to be however you damn pleased, and he should know that you were about to have that time of the month again. Right? Right.

“FUCK.” You dropped your forearm dramatically across your forehead. “Really? Are we really doing this right now?” You picked up the habit of talking to yourself when Seven was away.

“Fine – guess so…” With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for the physical exertion required of one to get out of bed.

Your insides churned a bit; it was the tell-tale feeling that only accompanied that of your body prepared to spew blood the second gravity went against your favour. You felt it. You knew it was going to happen; you just didn’t expect for your period to get so heavy so fast, and only overnight too.

“Well there’s nothing for it, Meowy – we’re just gonna have to make a run for it…” You cocked your head to the side, narrowing your eyes at the feline robot that was now preventing the unassuming Roomba from dutifully trying to gain entrance to your bedroom. “On second thought – maybe I should attempt the Tooty-Ta instead.” You laughed grimly to yourself. I’ll have to show Seven that ridiculous dance when he gets home. Lord knows he’d love it.

Gritting your teeth, you peeled back the sheets and carefully swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Your knees knocked as you clenched your thighs together. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple. “Great, heat flashes too? I’m not that old yet, damn.”

“Mrrrrr?” Meowy rolled over to your side, stiffly upturning her neck to regard you curiously, her programming having sensed that you were in distress.

Taking a deep breath, you braced your clammy palms on either side of your hips and gradually began to rise.

Gravity is an incredible thing. An incredibly, predictable, annoying, but necessary force of nature – much to the chagrin of the uterine force of nature you delicately clutched between your legs at present.

One wobbly step. Two. You rounded the bed post and began to reach for the door frame. So far, so good. Encouraged, you picked up the pace. Maybe I overestimated the amount of blood? You smirked confidently and entered the hallway. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, adjacent to the kitchen. Alright – let’s get this bread. You began your penguin-shuffle down the hardwood hall, leaning against the smooth, eggshell finished walls as you attempted to maintain the delicate balance required of your makeshift dance. Ten steps. Eleven. You reached out for the bathroom door, expecting to latch onto the glass doorknob when –

“Agh!!” You tripped over the Roomba.

The blood gurgled and began to plummet (as liquids, and pretty much anything and everything else, are wont to do) now freed from the desperate clenching of your thighs.

With a cry of despair, you clutched at your abdomen as you felt the large swash of bodily fluids exit your aching genitals, seep through your thoroughly ruined panties – Nooo, these are the cute ones with cats on them that Seven got me! – and splat quite dramatically onto the floor.

If it weren’t for the ruined underwear, the upturned Roomba, and the general resignation of being on one’s period – you would have been rather impressed at the size of the splatter that now decorated your floor in a lovely, concentric pattern.

“This…. Has never happened before.”

And it hadn’t. Usually, your periods started in the evening, not the morning. Usually, they were the heaviest on the second day, not the first. And usually, they weren’t of such a viscous consistency and atrocious metric volume that they glitched right out of your body, through your clothes, and landed in a terrific mess on the floor.

“It’s the Honey Buddha Chips; it must be!” You let out a wail of disgust, blaming the sweet and salty junk food as the reason behind your abnormal flow. “Saeyoung Choi, you WILL be paying for my ice cream tonight!”

You failed to realize that ice cream was also categorized as junk food too.

With nothing left to lose, blood still dribbling down your legs, you pivoted on your feet and marched back to your bedroom. Fine. It’s gonna be that kinda day, huh? You angrily snatched a clean change of clothes from your dresser – this time with your designated Period Panties™ – and made your way back down the hall towards the bathroom. A nice, cold shower will do just fine. You tried to convince yourself it was to counteract the annoying heat flashes you had seemingly picked up as a symptom of your menstrual distress, and not to cool the hot, balmy tears of frustration that now streaked your flushed face.

And if it weren’t for the ruined underwear, the upturned Roomba, and the general resignation of being on one’s period – then maybe you would have noticed how your toes and heels squelched as they made contact with the glob of period blood still lying inanimately on your floor.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Meowy was stressed.

Well, as stressed as her CPU could be, the mini gears and sensors running vapidly in her plastic and metal cat-shaped vessel.

Her auditory sensors reached warning threshold when her master’s precious one made loud noises of displeasure. Her visual sensors were already busy fighting off that dratted antagonist-of-a-cleaning-robot from earlier. And now her thermal sensors picked up the trace of something biological splatted on the ground. Something biological… and warm. Meowy saw red. But unfortunately, the cat robot couldn’t appreciate the literal nor figurative accuracy of that statement. She just knew she was stressed, even if her insentience didn’t quite allow her to know why, and even if that stress was purely mechanical, rather than emotional.

Master could purrrrobably add that feature in a future update, she surmised. Well, if robots could surmise, that is.

You were being quite a bother. And by bother, well, you were the source of your boyfriend’s cat robot’s overstimulation.

Upon showering, you exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam and clean clothes, fit with a cushy pad to catch the rest of your ebbing flow. Your bloody night clothes littered the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, and the goopy glob of period blood still sat, just as liquids are wont to do, inanimately in the same place as before (albeit, perhaps sporting a rustier hue as oxidation took effect).

It’s nice to be clean, you had thought, though the here-and-there prick of abdominal cramps and sporadic dizzy spells are nothing to long for. You had figured that some food and a glass of water would at least help the latter ailment, so you had proceeded to attempt to make yourself a late, light lunch.

Meowy frantically circled the small kitchen, letting out her programmed mews of concern every 2.35 seconds. During her 3rd or 4th worried lap, she ran right into your left foot, which you were precariously balancing on by habit.

For the second time that day, you yelped out an elegant “agh!” and dropped the knife you had been using to spread your favourite strawberry jam on the toast that you were planning to eat. The red-rimmed knife fell to the floor with a cacophonous clatter. Forgotten.

“Meowy!” You snarled as you towered over the cowering robocat.

Instantly, your rage dissipated to remorse as you felt empathy for the poor creature. Unpleasant images of Seven smashing the cat in a fit of similar rage accosted your brain, and with it, the tremulous and turbulent emotions from that past event too.

“I’m so sorry!” Your despondence flared suddenly and tears formed in the corners of your eyes. Mortified at how you treated your emotional support robot cat, you fled the kitchen in a teary haste. You tore down the hallway, intending to crash back into bed until Saeyoung came back home to make amends with Meowy and yourself –

Only to trip over the Roomba again.

“Oof!” Your knees crashed to the floor abruptly, your palms quickly reaching out to catch yourself from falling face first –

Only for them to slide out from under you after making contact with the slick pool of blood and period gunk that you neglected to clean up earlier.

And for the third time that day, you let out a final “AGH!”

SMACK!

Your face rammed into the ground, the bridge of your nose catching the pool of blood on your way down. Resigned, you didn’t move a muscle for five minutes, wallowing in your despair for yelling at Meowy, a lovely hybrid of self-loathing and disgust for not cleaning up the blood, and lonesomeness that ached every time Seven left on an indeterminable, clandestine trip.

Utterly wretched and still just as exhausted as when you had woken up approximately… you glanced at the clock at the end of the hall… 5 PM already??? … three hours ago, you cautiously raised yourself back to your knees. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sighed dejectedly and stood the rest of the way up.

Trudging solemnly back to your bedroom, you froze as you looked at the state of your sheets.

“Are you kidding me?!”

The sheets were rumpled from your hasty wake-up from earlier in the day, yet that wasn’t what caught your eye. No – your eyes lamentably traced the spotting and pools of long-dried blood that stained the center spread of sheets in the dip where you had slept. I must have leaked before I woke up, and I didn’t even notice.

Dehydrated, fatigued, and entirely resigned to end the day, you turned around and walked the short distance across the hall into the guest bedroom that Saeyoung most often used as an office space for work. (Less often, his twin Saeran would camp out in the small room, though recently he refrained from spending the night, too afraid that he’d become further traumatized by the excitable noises that tended to emit from his brother’s room late at night.)

You didn’t care that there was still blood trekked all over your apartment. You didn’t care that you were now just as soiled as before you had showered. You didn’t care that Meowy was short-circuiting in worry. You didn’t care that Seven had yet to return. You didn’t care. All you wanted to do was crash and wake up from this nightmare of a day.

Just a quick power nap, and then I’ll clean it up before Saeyoung gets home.

So, you curled up on the couch beside Seven’s work desk and cocooned yourself in a large comforter. With your back to the room, you entered fetal position and drifted off to sleep almost instantly, the crown of your head just barely visible from between the cushions.

And if Meowy was yowling as if possessed, well, you were too exhausted to notice.

Not that robot cats could be possessed, of course.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Fresh-faced and lively – Saeyoung was ecstatic.

The agency work turned out to be nothing more than a casual revenge-driven hacking: a harmless ploy orchestrated by a disgruntled employee trying to find some scrap of solace by antagonizing their rich, snobby boss’ computer system. Yes, it had been unfortunate that the job was sudden and required on-location skills, and yes, Saeyoung was rather reluctant to leave his adorably cute girlfriend alone for the night… but the goodhearted jokester couldn’t help but crack a smile as fond memories from just hours earlier accosted his mind…

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

“Mrr?” Elizabeth the 3rd let out a perplexed mew as the penthouse front door opened silently.

Seven creeped in, a finger brought to his lips as his eyes widened upon seeing Jumin’s cat. “Elly!” He immediately clasped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed that he let his excitement upon seeing the pure white Persian cat be audible.

“My darling! Uncle Luciel has come for you~~” He playfully whispered as he set his bag down and crouched beside the spoiled feline.

Elizabeth sauntered up to the intruder, presenting her lushly furred back for caresses.

“Don’t tell Mr. CEO, but I’m working here tonight. I need to access his Wi-Fi network directly.” Seven ran his fingers up and down the cat’s back, encouraged by her accelerated purring. “Don’t worry, ‘tis nothing nasty my friend – he’ll just be forced to do all of his work by hand tomorrow. I think his computer deserves a bit of break, no?” With a conniving twinkle in his eye, Seven began unpacking his equipment, settling cross-legged with his computer on his lap and Elizabeth sprawled out at his side, butting her head against his thighs periodically as his hands flew rapidly over his keyboard.

A large snore startled the mischievous hacker.

“Pshhsh!” Agent 707 brought up a hand to conceal his mirth, desperately trying to muffle the delirious laughter that threatened to escape his throat. Elizabeth glared at him, displeased that the large hand had ceased massaging her backside.

“I’m sorry, my kitty-love, I just didn’t expect Jumin to sleep so soundly!” Seven cooed lovingly.

Within the next few hours, Saeyoung finished up his early-morning hacking endeavors as instructed and deftly returned his equipment back to his bag without making a sound. He stood up and adorned a wistful expression, sad to be leaving his Elly all too soon.

“Meow~”

“Oh, my dear – we mustn’t!” Seven scooped up the cat and swung her around, crushing her flat face against his sharp nose. “You know not the extent that this sweet parting brings me pain, but alas, our love is forbidden!”

“Mrrrrr…”

Seven gently placed the cat back down. She immediately began grooming her mused fur, unimpressed with Seven’s soliloquy.

“Always the lady.” Saeyoung bowed reverently, a hand on the door to leave. “Wait!” Digging excitedly in his duffle, the young man pulled out a thin, red, satin ribbon. A small pawprint locket charm clinked on the ribbon.

Gently fondling the jewelry, Seven clicked open the locket and gazed adoringly at the image within. “Ah, it’s perfect. A representation of our love, my Elly!” With one final glance, Seven clicked the locket shut and bent down to tie the ribbon loosely around Elizabeth’s neck, covering up the collar Jumin had gifted to her prior.

Elizabeth, none the wiser, mewled an unbothered farewell as Saeyoung patted her once more affectionately and made his departure with a cheeky air-blown kiss.

The hacker disappeared from the CEO’s penthouse, slipped past the guards once more, and vanished into the early morning – having one or two more things left to accomplish for the agency before he could return home.

What those tasks were? Well, perhaps it’s best that only special Agent 707 would ever know for sure.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧        

This will pay the bills all for next month! Saeyoung thought with a grin, drawn back to the present as he lovingly slid his palm over the curve of the leather steering wheel. Plus, maybe this will teach Jumin not to overwork his minions. The young hacker smirked. He could already sense Jaehee’s displeasure when she would find out that RFA’s very own security hacked her boss for entertainment. And a bit of cash.

Seven wound his way through the hilly countryside, enjoying the dip and curve of the roads. He glanced at the car’s clock: 5:36 PM.

It was approaching dusk, and he was eager to return home. He moved his free hand over to his baby car’s console and pressed down on the window switch.

“Yahoo!” Seven stuck his head out of the window and let the wind ruffle his untamable ginger hair. His striped glasses pushed comfortingly against the bridge of his nose, as the golden hues of the setting sun reflected in his mutually golden irises.

A sudden pang of yearning overtook the young man, thinking about his princess at home. Though it happened without fault every evening, Saeyoung couldn’t help but feel anxious about missing the sunset. He wanted to watch every sunset with you; this would be the first one that you both had missed since you started living together.

A reversed flick of the window toggle and a harder stomp on the gas pedal later, Saeyoung sped back home with renewed urgency. We can catch the tail end of the evening together if I hurry.

Unbeknownst to him, the red, rosy fingers of sunlight that stretched linearly across the horizon were complementary towards the organic drops of red that currently decorated your shared home.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

It was a quarter past 6 when the door to your shared apartment finally received its missing tenant. The last of the sundry locks popped open, the metal restraints finally allowing the port of entrance to swing on its hinges.

“Honeyyyyyyy~ I’m hooOOOMMMEEE!” Saeyoung sang loudly as he shouldered his way through the frame. Closing the door behind him, the totally-averagely-paranoid hacker wasted no time in redoing all of the locks. Turning around with a relieved exhale, Seven carelessly dropped his duffle on the floor and toed off his shoes impatiently.

No less than two steps deeper into the flat, Saeyoung was just starting to acquire a sense of strange foreboding when a white blur came barreling around the corner of the hallway –

“Master! Master! Your precious one!” Meowy, hysterically wheeling herself towards her creator, belted as loudly as her speakers permitted.

“What the hell?” Startled, Seven eyed his rambunctious robot, unable to fathom what in the world could trigger his creation to act so frenzied.

“Master! Your precious one! Blood! Bleeding! Help!” Meowy shrieked, her pitch increasing steadily and becoming disconcertingly garbled, her processors unable to cope with the sensory overload.

Saeyoung froze.

Time stopped.

Her… blood?

…

…

BLEEDING?!

“What?! Where? Meowy what happened?!” Seven pushed past the yowling cat, crying your name as he further entered the apartment.

Seven frantically rounded the corner, his panic only increasing with every second that you neglected to greet him at the door. You always greet me when I come home! Where are you!?!  He shouted your name a second time, his heart hammering in his chest, muscles constricting painfully as his mind began to whirr with confusion and pain. You can’t be taken… not again… We just got this together... us.

“Honey?? This isn’t funny!” Saeyoung quickly glanced to his left as he passed the kitchen.

He froze.

There. On the ground.

A knife.

It’s red.

Clumps of something that was equally red and sticky looking surrounded the knife. The knife that should not be laying carelessly on the floor. The knife that very obviously fell on the ground in a struggle and was currently tainted red.

His airway felt constricted. His sense of hearing muffled, despite Meowy still shrieking incoherently at his feet.

As if in his own personal horror movie, Saeyoung pivoted his head to his right, now looking in to the bathroom. Terrified eyes locked onto small, red footprints that graced the floor. They traveled from the hallway onto the cold tiles. He assessed the criminal scene with widening eyes: blood stained clothes were thrown haphazardly before the shower. Your nightclothes. Your nightclothes that you had definitely been wearing. His own t-shirt that you so adorably asked to wear at night, citing that it smelled just like him. The large shirt that he gave you in mock exasperation, secretly fawning over your cuteness when you slid it on.

Look Seven, it’s like a dress on me!

With another frantic gasp, Saeyoung wailed your name brokenly. Once again compelled to action, he tore his gaze from the bathroom and began to sprint anxiously down the adjacent hallway. He needed to find you. Now. It was dark. The air was stale. His nose twitched in distaste as he sensed the twinge of iron that faintly permeated the hall before him. It felt like there had been little movement in your apartment today. He fumbled for the light switch on the wall. His trembling fingers just missed it. His body was already surging forward, so he continued his aching search into the hall blindly, his feet shuffling against each other lamely –

Why is there blood why why why this can’t be happening

Saeran and I… we got rid of Mint Eye, we survived, we did we DID!

but what if they came back

Why did they take her clothes off??

unless…

Seven’s stomach sank nauseously.

what if they took her what if – no no no nononono NO!

There was a sign of a struggle; she’s bleeding, she’s hurt!

She’s …. Dying.

…

NO please God no–!

Saeyoung suddenly tripped over something heavy. He crashed to the ground, blinking away the tears in his eyes despite not being able to see anything in the dark.

His scuffed palms instinctively reached out to catch him. Angry at his own clumsiness, he fumbled for his phone in his back pocket, swiping up to access his flashlight.

“AGH!” He sprang back in a shocked stupor.

A worryingly large pool of dried blood stood out conspicuously where he had just fell. Darker red, nearly black, glossy clumps of something sat atop the dried blood, having congealed to the consistency of rancid jelly.

Without turning back to see what he had tripped on, Seven screamed your name in utter despair, propelling himself upwards as he desperately searched the last two places you could be. Not wanting to confront the bedroom just yet, he yanked open the door to his office space, quickly glancing around in a fretful daze. Not being able to locate you immediately, he finally turned to your shared bedroom. His phone’s flashlight zeroed in on the bed. The empty bed. The empty bed that was speckled with the same blood that stippled the hallway. And the bathroom. And the kitchen.

You weren’t here.

You were taken.

You were injured.

You were gone–

“No!” Saeyoung collapsed to his knees, struggling to dial the keypad on his phone. He wasn’t even sure whom he was calling when a meek voice sounded out behind him.

“… Seven?”

Dropping his phone in alarm, Saeyoung spun around, ignoring how the carpet burned his knees as he pivoted.

You. You were there.

You were clutching at the bedroom door frame, highlighted only by the last surviving streaks of sunlight creeping through the blinds. You looked… fine. Maybe tired at worst.

Saeyoung choked out your name, his eyes instantly filling with tears. Both of you were frozen for several moments, him out of complete bewilderment, and you, cranky but concerned, having finally been woken from your deep sleep by wails of despair. And then –

Seven rushed to his feet and crushed you against his chest. You could hear and feel his heart thumping erratically in his chest. His breath came out hot and moist as he pressed his lips to the top of your messy hair. His lanky arms wrapped tightly around your startled frame, his fingers finding their desperate purchase around your waist and the small of your back. His taller frame shook, and you soon felt something wet streak down your temple. “I thought I lost you.”

Still utterly confused as to what exactly was happening, you just returned his terrified embrace, perplexed as to why your eyes suddenly filled with tears too.

“Seven… Saeyoung…”

He clutched you even tighter, the symptoms of a full-blown panic attack likely to ensue.

“Luciel.”

Alarmed, you leaned your face back and looked deeply into his blown eyes. You placed shaking yet comforting palms against either side of his sharp cheeks. Fighting past the cotton in your throat, you sought answers for his critical state.

“What do you think happened?”

He let out a wobbly sniffle and returned your intense gaze, gathering the courage needed to answer you coherently.

“Your… your blood. Why is it all over the apartment?” He croaked painfully. As if spooked again, his eyes widened almost comically once more: “You’re not hurt, are you?? Oh God, I didn’t even think to check first. Of course you’re hurt; your BLOOD is all over the place. Oh fuck, it’s on your face too. oh my god. Don’t move, I’m taking you to the hospital oh God…” Saeyoung began to stoop as if to pick you up but you hurriedly made to halt him.

“What – no Saeyoung, stop. I’m fine. See? Why ever would you think that… oh.” You gulped nervously, the hot flush from earlier now creeping up your neck and overtaking your face in shame. Well… fuck.

“Please don’t be mad… um,” you nervously averted your gaze, your hands dropping to pull his wrists out from your sides. You laced your fingers together. “Let’s sit down, yeah?” You guided the shaken man to the end of the bed and then turned away.

Thin fingers suddenly encircled your wrist.

“My sweet, I’m just turning on the lamp. It’s dark now.”

“Oh… right. Of course.”

You padded over to the wall, flicking the switch so that the yellow overhead fluorescent bathed everything in a sad hue.

“Okay so…” You took a shallow breath and eased yourself down onto your boyfriend’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist once more. You began to card your fingers through his hair. It was a position that brought you both immense comfort and security. “Don’t laugh, but… uh, and I’m really sorry for causing you so much distress, but ahh I guess maybe my body was just so surprised that you got called away real early this morning, remember? Oh of course you remember, you just got back... And so – oh Seven, it must have been the chips! I’m so sorry! I’m a terrible person; I yelled at Meowy and – the underwear! With cats! Saeyoung dear, please understand I didn’t mean to! We can get another pair. But I really blame that stupid Roomba for all of it.” You trailed off pitifully, averting your embarrassed eyes in favour of studying the corner of the bedroom instead.

Silence settled in wake of your rambling statement.

“You… what?” Seven loosened his grip and stared up at your fretful eyes with utter confusion. “Babe,” he took a shaky breath alike to yours, “you know I love you, always, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but – what the fuck are you talking about?”

Unable to hold back your torrent of hormone-induced emotions, you blurted, “I’m on my period!”

“You…”

“It happens every month, Saeyoung.”

“Yes, but… it’s not supposed to get all over the floors! And the walls! And the bed – Babe! The knife! There are clumps of FLESH in the hall!” Seven held your arms in a tight grip, forcing you to look right at him.

“I know! I… it was a heavy flow.” Your eyes cast downwards pathetically. Oh man, do I wanna curl up in a ball and die…

Abruptly, a chuckle resounded off the walls. The chuckle grew into giggling, which then grew into bellowing laughter. You joined in with your boyfriend’s mirth, both of you laughing to expel any of the remaining insecurity and fear you both felt. For every laugh, a tear was shed, and for every hysterical giggle, your interlocked hands squeezed the other.

Growing pains and period pains, your relationship had both.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

You didn’t get to watch the rest of the dwindling sunset together.

After calmly and patiently explaining your abnormal and premature flow, accompanied by the resulting afternoon fiasco via Meowy’s unfortunate presence, you had gotten Seven back to a stable mental state. He blushed furiously, embarrassed that he reacted so dramatically to something as old-hat as your menstrual cycle. But you shushed him, gave him gentle, chaste kisses, and assured him that his reaction wasn’t unfounded. It had been… upsetting for you too, even if your feelings were rooted in annoyance and crankiness more so than fear.

Still shaken by the sight of your blood, Saeyoung insisted that you both cleaned up the flat together. He didn’t want to leave your side, after all. With a light smile, he suggested maybe a game to make the task less grisly. An unassuming pair of handcuffs (which were actually the tipping point for Saeran moving out the day he saw them), a large sponge, and some soapy water later, you and Saeyoung were racing down the hallways nearly on all fours, jointed at the wrists, challenging yourselves to stay upright as you both pushed the same waterlogged sponge across the hardwood floors.

You were both giggling loudly, which only became amplified when you realized that you both still hadn’t up-righted the miserable Roomba.

“Left! Left!” Saeyoung shouldered your direction leftwards, and you both were able to – finally – avoid a third collision with the sad robot.

When you both released yourselves from your metal confines and entered the bathroom, you sadly presented your soiled cat panties to Seven. He wasn’t quite quick enough to hide his grimace. The little cats sure do look hellish with all the blood splatters… You cringed in agreement. The footprints were scrubbed off the tile, and you gathered your discarded clothes to put in the hamper.

“See, my lovey, it’s just the underwear that are bloody.” You held up his t-shirt that you had taken to sleeping in. Seven blushed harder and stammered an apology. “Don’t apologize, everything else was pretty much covered in blood… it’s natural to think that the shirt was too.” You offered an easy, albeit still concerned, smile. He gratefully returned it.

Saeyoung stammered the most upon seeing the knife in the kitchen. “I uh –, “ he cupped the back of his neck, “I didn’t really inspect it earlier. I just saw… hehe… red.” His face turned the colour of his hair. Meowy let out a mewl of approval.

Cracking a grin to yourself, you shook your head. “I know.”

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

It wasn’t until an hour or two later that you both had finally cleaned your flat of the remaining incriminating evidence. Both tired, you were entirely resigned to spending the rest of this nightmarish day cuddled with your boyfriend in bed. It seemed this was Seven’s train of thought too, until his eyes suddenly lit up with excitement.

“Babe!” He twirled you around the kitchen, picking you up and settling you down on the counter. He wedged himself between your legs as you were winding your arms around his neck. “I didn’t forget.”

“Hmm?” You offered him a dazed expression.

“You scream~” He began to improvise one of his many cutesy melodies, “I scream~~”

Your eyes brightened with sudden realization: “We all scream for ice cream!”

“Yes! My princess requests! And so, I shall deliver!” He kissed both of your cheeks, helped you down, and then shucked off his coat. Wrapping it tightly around your shoulders, he tilted your chin up, “Cute.” Wink.

“Allons-y!”

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Jumin had had a terribly frustrating, annoying, absolutely baffling day.

Upon arriving at work, he was met with a flustered Jaehee.

“Sir, something’s wrong with the network,” she glanced down at her clipboard, “And, ahem, well your technologies, sir.”

An arched brow. “My technologies?”

“It appears everything fed through your devices ends up not going through. I’m afraid we’ll have to complete all documents the old-fashioned way today.”

The other arched brow. “The old-fashioned way?”

“Handwritten, Mr. Han. Everything will have to be done by hand.”

Assistant Kang’s words sealed Han Jumin’s fate. His hands cramped. He had ink smears over his pinstriped dress shirt. And his hair now sported commoner cowlicks.

Jumin returned home around 9 PM, exhausted and bleary beyond belief. “Elizabeth, my love – come and comfort your father.” Jumin stumbled into his penthouse, intent on cuddling his cat since she somehow eluded him earlier that morning.

“Meow~” The stunning Persian vocalized lazily as she sauntered up to her master.

“Ah, what a fine lady you are.” Jumin scooped her up and nosed her long fur. Something round and cool brushed against his skin. Curious, Jumin fondled the delicate metal lock attached to an imposter satin ribbon looped around Elizabeth’s neck.

“What is this?” He scoffed, irritated that one of the guards must have thought to play dress up with his cat.

Jumin set Elizabeth down and removed the ribbon. He clicked the locket open. Inside, there was a photoshopped photo of Saeyoung and his Elizabeth recreating American Gothic, but with childish doodled hearts and horrendous text in Comic Sans font:

707 x Elly forever!!!

“Luciel… I expected no less.” Jumin rolled his eyes. “Well done I suppose, though I’ll have next draw, of course.” The tall man smirked enigmatically to himself and went to bed.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

But for now, somewhere in Seoul, you shared an ice cream sundae with Seven.

❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧ ❧

Notes:

"The cost is not an issue-"

"Jumin, please just answer the question," Mc asked again.

"$6,000," he replied with a shrug. He truly did not understand why it mattered

"For a dollhouse?" Mc was shocked. "Jumin, that's ridiculous!"

Jumin's brow furrowed, "I'm not sure I follow, my love?"

Mc walked closer to her husband, placed a loving hand on his chest and looked up at him, "We've talked about this, Jumin. You can't just get her gifts every time she's upset with you."

"I just don't see the issue with it, Mc. My father did the same for me, and I turned out just fine."

Mc gave her husband a look. He knew that look all too well, "Are we being honest right now?"

He hesitated, "Yes?"

She smiled at her husband lovingly. Mc wondered how someone so intelligent could be so dense. "Jumin, you don't need to buy her affection. She's seven. She's going to get mad at you sometimes, that's just part of being a parent. Do you know how often she's mad at me?"

"When is she upset with you?"

"Every time I tell her no," Mc chuckled. "She can be very stubborn, like someone else I love dearly, but I don't buy gifts to make the stubbornness or anger go away. I give her the space she needs and then we talk about it."

Jumin wrapped his arms around his wife, "I just can't stand her being angry with me. I promised her I would be there, and then I broke that promise. Mc... I know I'm not home as often as we would both like me to be, but she doesn't understand why I'm gone so often yet."

"Our daughter is very smart, Jumin. She's young, of course, but if you just sit and talk to her she'll understand. My love, that little girl doesn't want $6,000 dollhouses, all she wants is her dad. We have to teach her how to express her feelings, especially to us. Think about how long it took you to learn about your own feelings. Do we want to do the same thing to her?"

"No," he answered sadly.

Mc caressed her husband's cheek lovingly, "We're both learning here, Jumin. Sometimes we're going to make mistakes, that's normal, but we need to teach her that it's okay to mess up sometimes. If we teach her that even we mess up sometimes then she'll want to talk to us when she does the same. We're not perfect, my love, and we're never going to be, but we need to teach her that not being perfect is okay."

"You're right," Jumin exhaled. "I'll talk to her when she wakes up."

"Thank you," Mc smiled as Jumin kissed her forehead.

The pair stayed in each other's arms for a moment before they heard a small voice call from the living room, "Mommy? Daddy?"

"We're right here, sweetie," Mc said as the pair walked into the living room.

Aeji looked at her parents, "Where did you guys go?"

"We didn't go far," Mc smiled as she sat on the couch next her her daughter. "We were just in the kitchen talking."

"Sweetheart, you and I need to talk, okay," Jumin said as he sat beside his daughter.

"Okay?"

"I didn't keep my promise to you yesterday, and I am very sorry. I know I said I would be there and I wanted to be there more than anything, but I got held up at work. It's okay to be upset with, I understand. Just know that I love you very very much."

Aeji looked at her mother and then back to her father, "I was sad. Only mommy goes to my dances sometimes. It's probably boring so it's okay."

Jumin felt his heart shatter as he looked at the sad look on his child's face, "No, sweetheart, it's not boring. I watch the videos mommy makes of your recitals all the time. I don't want you to ever think that I'm not interested in the things you do. The only reason I'm not there is because of work. I made a mistake but I'll do better, okay?"

Aeji's face brightened and she smiled at her father, "Okay! Do you want to see my dance now?"

Jumin laughed, "Yes, I would love to."

Aeji jumped off the couch and started running to her room, "I need to change! Elizabeth come on!"

Elizabeth the 3rd followed the little girl, which caused both Jumin and Mc to laugh. When the two were left alone Jumin pulled Mc closer to him, "She's wonderful."

“Jumin, what on Earth is this?”

He offered her a placid blink. “A Christmas celebration, as you requested, if I recall correctly.”

“If I recall correctly,” she said in as mocking of a mimicry as she could manage, “I requested a small celebration. And instead, you invited over how many people to the holiday party?!”

His expression didn’t change. “A few dozen, perhaps. It’s hardly worth getting worked up over.”

Staring at him for several seconds in disbelief, jaw practically hanging open at the hinges, would only amuse him and she knew it, but she still couldn’t stop herself. As expected, the hint of a smirk curled his lips, though thankfully, she was saved from further ridicule by Jaehee materializing beside her, clad in simple but elegantly festive gold attire and carrying her typical clipboard.

Unfortunately, the other woman’s expression did not bode well for the general state of the party and she heaved a sigh, somehow already exhausted despite it still being early evening.

Jumin, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious; he turned to her, expression frustratingly constant. “Ah, Assistant Kang, there you are. Have you seen Jihyun?”

Jaehee’s lips thinned. “No, but I believe we have bigger concerns, such as identifying who thought letting Seven go anywhere near the refreshments before the start of the party was a good idea.” Glasses glinting disapprovingly, she turned and nearabout plucked the hacker in question out of the crowd.

Eunbyeol watched as bright golden eyes darted from Jaehee to her before Seven grinned, angelic enough that suspicion crawled up her spine, even as Jaehee’s expression soured even further. “What’s the issue here?”

Before the other woman could begin to formulate a response, she cut in, holding out what she hoped was a placating hand. “Jaehee, why don’t you see if you can salvage whatever mess Seven left with the refreshments?”

The look she received in return could only be described as skeptical, but Jaehee left nonetheless, thankfully just before Seven’s smile turned into a mock look of outrage. “What? Little ol’ Seveny, leave a mess by the food? I would never!”

She heaved a sigh, barely resisting the urge to massage her forehead; the festivities had only just begun, after all. “Seven. What did you do?”

“Eunbyeol?” Before Seven could reply, Jihyun’s voice cut through the din and she turned to find him with a bottle of… Was that… rum in his hand?

Her heart sank. “Seven!”

Something about her tone must have caught his attention; he started, something resembling guilt working its way into his features… or maybe that was just concern for his own wellbeing. Still, he schooled his face into some semblance of innocence with terrifying alacrity. “Yes, our dearest party coordinator?”

“Would you care to explain to us why you were by the refresh—? Wait…” Her gaze darted from the bottle in her boyfriend’s hand to the faint look of worry in Seven’s eyes. “Saeyoung Choi, did you spike the eggnog?”

He didn’t answer, though since that was because he had dissolved into a fit of giggles that would put an infatuated schoolgirl to shame, he certainly didn’t need to. The urge to slam her head against the nearest hard surface intensified, especially as Jihyun snickered, an indulgent grin on his face.

“Seven!” Her exclamation cracked through the air, loud enough that several guests turned to look. Waving them off with the most reassuring smile she could muster, she lowered her voice with some difficulty. “How could you?”

He shrugged, mostly unrepentant. “It’s not like anybody here is underaged.”

“Irrelevant. Besides, that doesn’t mean everyone here necessarily wants spiked eggnog, or can handle… how much rum did you put in there anyway?”

She wasn’t sure whether it was foolishness or self-preservation that kept his mouth shut but at that point, she hardly cared. Instead, she—barely—restrained herself to a glare that vowed painful retribution post-party, which he blithely ignored as he turned away, given his parting inquiry of whether he could prepare a Honey Buddha Chip creme brûlée as the centerpiece for dessert.

“No, you’ll burn the house down.” Her snapped response was perhaps louder than required, especially given the number of guests who seemed already curious as to what had her in such a tizzy, but given the circumstances, she frankly couldn’t care less.

Especially since, beside her, Jihyun made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

Thankfully, Jumin proved to be considerably more helpful than her significant other and offered both a pen to change the label and to pacify potentially discontent guests while she rectified the situation and pointedly ignored Jihyun’s hastily stifled laughter. Offering two final disdainful glances and one grateful one, she hurried to the refreshments table.

Much to her relief, the eggnog appeared to be mostly untouched, though whether that was from lack of interest or from experience, she couldn’t quite be sure. At any rate, it wouldn’t change the extra security which came from having a proper label, and ideally prevent the occurrence of any drunken mishaps.

Said hope was swiftly dashed as soon as she spotted Yoosung across the room with what must have been a second or third cup of eggnog; he had been a lightweight when she first met him and the ensuing years had done nothing to change that, judging from his slight swaying. Meanwhile, Zen seemed to be too busy entertaining the rest of their guests—and being fawned over by the multitude of women whom Jumin had apparently decided to invite—to notice much of anything, much less the predicament of his pseudo-sibling.

Spectacular.

Sighing, she wove her way through the neverending crowd, wondering how Jaehee had ever managed to maintain order in the past. Whatever Jumin paid her could never be enough, not that she was going to complain at the moment. Making a mental note to request Jumin grant his assistant a long vacation, she arrived beside Yoosung just in time to stop him from downing his most recent glass.

“Eunbyeol!” His exuberant cry of her name was worryingly slurred, though admittedly not as much as she had feared.

Still, it was enough so that she cast her gaze about until she spotted Zen, still engrossed in enchanting the guests around him. There was no subtle way of attracting his attention, not against the fawning masses, and if she were to be entirely honest with herself, any such method wouldn’t have been enough to assuage her frustration after having to deal with Seven’s latest escapade.

Instead, she contented herself with snatching Yoosung’s wrist and bodily tugging him in Zen’s direction. She still had a polite smile affixed to her lips to assuage the concerns of the guests around them, but it was something, at least, to vent her exasperation.

Luckily for everyone involved, their resident musical celebrity was surprisingly willing to keep an eye on Yoosung, even in spite of the still ongoing party. It was enough so that, in any other situation, she would have dared to question whether Zen was still working on convincing Seven to create a babysitter license for him. In light of her frustration with Seven, however, she only thanked him again, the hint of desperation in her voice apparently audible enough that his brow furrowed with concern and he turned to her.

“What happened?”

She made a face. “Seven.”

“Ah.” Sympathy colored Zen’s tone. “What did he do this time?”

“Spike the eggnog and I’m not even sure what else but I’m sure there’s something.”

She received a wry chuckle in return. “No doubt. It’s Seven we’re talking about, after all.”

“I just hope he holds off until after this is over.”

Keen red eyes met hers. “Not the party you were hoping for?”

The sound that escaped her lips could only be a snort. “That obvious, huh? No, I was thinking something much smaller. I’m just glad Jumin decided to play host; I don’t even want to think about having to clean up my apartment after a soirée of this scale.”

“Would you look at that? The Trust Fund Kid is good for something after all.”

“Zen…”

He grinned back with an air of feigned innocence. “Old habits die hard?”

She rolled her eyes, though with a smile of her own, as she lightly swatted at his arm. “To be fair, he’s being much more helpful than Jihyun is. He at least helped with mitigating Seven’s mess while our glorious leader just egged him on.”

“Hey!”

At the loud cry in her ear, Eunbyeol jumped, nearly bowling Zen over. By the time she had regained her equilibrium, Yoosung was already trying to cut a stumbling path through the crowd, seemingly fixated on something in the distance. Or perhaps more accurately, the two women frozen underneath, both looking upward.

“Jaehee!”

At Yoosung’s second drunken bellow, she leapt forward, catching him before he could move any closer and manage to draw more attention to the scene than he already had, gesturing wildly at the woman in question. As it was, Jaehee was already turning a very interesting shade of pink, sneaking occasional glances at her companion, a tall, thankfully amused looking woman she vaguely recognized as the owner of a little cafe that had opened just down the street from the C&R building.

Though, was that mistletoe hanging from the ceiling?

God, there was no way this could end well.

Before she could ruminate farther on the best punishment for Seven and likely Jihyun as well, Yoosung broke out of her grasp and pointed a finger at the duo. “Hey, Jaehee, you’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss already!”

She froze, torn between a horrible desire to laugh or to slam her head repeatedly into the nearest wall in the face of the mess that her innocent suggestion for a party had become. Luckily, Zen’s reaction time was not similarly impaired.

“Yoosung!” He darted forward, face torn between amusement and concern, and pulled the boy aside, covering his mouth with one hand. “That’s enough for you, kid.”

Ignoring the muffled protests coming from behind their makeshift gag as Yoosung was dragged away, she turned back to the pair still frozen under the mistletoe to find Jaehee slowly turning a truly impressive shade of vermillion. From behind the fake spectacles, frantic brown eyes darted from the plant hanging innocently over her head to the woman standing across from her in rapid and undisguisable panic.

Before Eunbyeol could attempt to calm the situation, however, the other woman quickly met her gaze with what could only be described as a reassuring glance before stepping closer to Jaehee. Warmth sparkled in her eyes, along with mischief and… interest?

Well, that certainly explained why she had run into Jaehee there every time she chose to visit the cafe, at least.

“May I?”

Cheers erupted from her other side even before Jaehee, eyes wider than she’d ever seen them, nodded and Eunbyeol turned to find that in the chaos, Seven and Jihyun had maneuvered closer and were both grinning at the spectacle, the former with an expression of pride. Said triumphant grin morphed into a smirk as soon as he noticed her gaze and she groaned at the inevitable gloating she’d no doubt soon be on the receiving end of before returning back to the dessert table and the spiked eggnog.