#skzwriternet

Minho rolled his eyes at himself, trying to ignore the wash of dysphoria bubbling up underneath his skin. He let a scoff escape his lips and he leaned onto the desk, overwhelmed with how nervous he was. They had planned tonight out a couple weeks in advance, talking through every potential action they were and weren’t interested in — just in case, of course. 

“Babe?” Changbin’s voice was soft, almost as soft as the hand placed on the small of Minho’s back. “You sure you’re up for this?”

A squeaky, weak affirmation rumbled in Minho’s throat and he shakily nodded his head. He leaned back into Changbin’s touch, thankful that the lights were low so the uneasy look on his face was concealed. Minho tucked his chin into his chest as he took in a deep breath. He threw his head back against Changbin’s shoulder and sighed, reaching his hands around to grab his boyfriend’s hands and brought them around his waist. 

“I’ll be okay,” Minho licked his lips as he looked up at Changbin, “I just don’t want you to be weirded out by any of this.”

Changbin’s lips curled up and he chuckled to himself, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Minho’s forehead. He interlaced his fingers with Minho’s and hummed pleasantly. “I trust you with your collection, so if you trust me with going down on you, I think we’ll be okay.”

Minho pressed his thighs together on impulse, his stomach burning at the thought of seeing Changbin between his legs, sucking him off with his eager mouth. “It’s gonna be different than—”

“Minho, babe,” Changbin cut him off, pulling his head back with a grin on his face, “you’ve told me. I’m ready to do whatever you want me to, like, you should feel how excited I am to get my tongue on your dick.”

The little affirmation to Minho’s ego made him swallow hard. He arched his back and pressed his ass right up into Changbin’s crotch, grinning as he felt the length against him. “You’re awfully excited for someone that’s never sucked a single cock in your life.”

“It’s you, though.” Changbin giggled and leaned forward to nibble at Minho’s neck. He swiped his tongue up the side of his neck, the ball of his tongue piercing against his flesh made him gasp. “I’ll do anything to make you happy, babe. I’m gonna make sure that happens when I’m between those nice thick legs of yours.”

Minho leaned forward and grabbed a bottle of lube off of the desk and presented it in front of Changbin, nibbling at his bottom lip while he waited for the right words to surface. He tipped his head down, nervously looking up to his boyfriend. “I think I’m ready.”

The grin on Changbin’s face grew wider, and he grabbed Minho by the hips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Minho flatly stated with a nod and stepped back. He grabbed Changbin’s hand and walked them around to the edge of their shared bed. With a shaky breath, he sat down on the bed and looked up at Changbin, his hands moved down past the hem of his oversized hoodie to the waistband of his joggers. “Do you want me to take this off or do you want—”

Changbin eagerly nodded and dropped to his knees in front of Minho on the floor. “Can I? Pretty please?”

A blush crept up on Minho’ face at the sight, unaware of how much he liked seeing Changbin this excited to drop to his knees to please him. “Y-yeah,” he sighed and dropped to his elbows, relaxing just enough to see Changbin strip him, “I trust you.”

Changbin was quick to tug at the strings of Minho’s sweatpants, even faster to pull them off by the waistband. The moment Minho’s flesh was exposed to the cool air, he pressed his thighs together and screwed his eyelids shut in embarrassment. Insecure thoughts bubbled up, knowing that Changbin could see the one thing that he hadn’t been comfortable with until years of testosterone had made him look a little more masculine. Even though they had been together for over a year at this point, Minho still couldn’t bring himself to ever let his boyfriend see what was his biggest fear.

The silence made the anxiety inside of Minho swell. He could feel Changbin’s eyes on his skin, his boyfriend’s hands gingerly reaching up his thighs, crawling up them to the trimmed tuft of hair between his legs. Minho couldn’t stop running his teeth over his bottom lip, willing himself to relax his muscles to part his legs.

“Minho,” Changbin practically whined, “I wanna get in between your legs, wanna suck you off so bad.” He grabbed Minho’s leg and pressed his hips up against it, his erection prominent against the muscle. “Babe, you’re gonna make a mess out of me before you even get inside of me.”

Minho whimpered as he lifted his head, looking down at Changbin. “Too bad I’m not gonna let you come until you’ve earned it.”

The younger man’s eyes went wide, swallowing audibly as he stared up at his boyfriend. “I’ll earn it, hyung, I promise.”

Finally, Minho laid fully back and spread his legs apart, nervously grabbing at the hem of his hoodie. He pulled it up a bit, exposing his toned stomach. “Prove it. Please, please, please get my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours and show me what you can do.”

Changbin wasted no time leaning in. Minho felt the metal rings on either side of his bottom lip rub up against his swollen skin, gasping at the first graze of his boyfriend’s tongue on his dick. The first swipes of his tongue made Minho mewl, each circle making his body twitch. It was a strange, familiar sensation made somehow more intense than he remembered.

“You taste so good, hyung.” In between swipes of his tongue, Changbin desperately panted out eager praise with a weak voice. He growled as he licked and sucked at the tender flesh in front of his face, continuing to eagerly and loudly roll his tongue in circles, the ball of the piercing making his head spin. 

The perverse noises made Minho’s stomach flip, and he finally garnered enough courage to peek at Changbin for just a moment. In the split second Minho saw Changbin, the image of his boyfriend losing himself as he ravaged his way between his legs seared into his mind. The sight emboldened Minho enough to watch a bit longer, potential dysphoria be damned.

Changbin swirled his tongue around a few more times, the ball of his tongue ring occasionally brushing up against the sensitive skin in all of the right ways. After the nth swipe, he looked up and stared at Minho, freezing for just a moment. “Are you okay, babe? Need me to stop?”

Minho hissed as he propped himself up on his elbows. He sat partially upright, and reached down to grab Changbin’s hair. “Please,” he quietly groaned, firmly tugging at his boyfriend’s hair, “if you don’t make me come soon, I will ruin you.” Before Changbin could respond, Minho roughly pushed him further in between his legs, causing the younger man to whine and moan against his skin.

Every tongue flick made Minho reel. He kept his hand in Changbin’s hair and was involuntarily rolling his hips into each lick and suck that was impressed into his flesh. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, thankful that their bedroom was a corner unit so their neighbours couldn’t hear the filthy noises they were making, “I can’t believe you’ve never sucked dick, yet you’re working me up like you’re an experienced, cheap whore.”

The insult made Changbin pull away from Minho abruptly with a sharp cry. He looked up at his boyfriend with teary eyes, his face shimmering in saliva. “God, babe,” he whined, “I seriously feel like I’m about to explode.”

Minho cocked his head to the side and let his hand drop down to Changbin’s cheek. “Then take a breath. I told you that I wasn’t gonna let you come for a while, didn’t I?”

Changbin pouted in response, leaning into Minho’s touch. “Am I at least doing okay, hyung?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Minho softly smiled, then returned his grasp to Changbin’s hair, guiding him back down between his legs. “Now, back to work with you. I can’t wait to come all over that pretty face of yours and then make your ass mine.”

As soon as Changbin went back to eagerly lapping him up, Minho laid back and wrapped his legs around his boyfriend’s shoulders. In between languid swipes of his tongue, Changbin offered a few nips to Minho’s inner legs, his hands circling around the older man’s fleshy thighs. He pulled back just enough for his warm breath to disappear from Minho’s skin. 

“Can I use my fingers inside you or is that too… you know?”

It took a second for Minho to ground himself, the unintentional edging driving him mad. “You wanna fuck me with your fingers?”

Changbin weakly hummed. “If that’s okay.”

Minho lazily pointed towards where he thought Changbin put the lube and nodded. “It’s more than okay, you’re just gonna need some lube.”

The moment Minho heard the cap pop open, his stomach started to knot up. A wave of insecure, dysphoric thoughts tried to creep their way into his thoughts, but they were pushed away as soon as Changbin’s soft, sticky fingers were in between his legs, poking around his entrance. 

“Didn’t you say you have a history of making a mess when you come like this?” 

”Shit.” Minho flushed immediately, furrowing his brows in frustration as he realised his error of preparing for everything but this. “I didn’t grab a towel.”

A devious giggle came from Changbin as he slid his fingers inside of Minho, quelling the older man’s nervousness. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up, so just let go, hyung.”

Minho expected himself to curl up in embarrassment, but the sensation of having someone else’s fingers inside of him felt so foreign and unpredictable. It was a welcome distraction, enough to make him ignore the definite mess he would make when he came. Of course Changbin would clean it up — he had been looking forward to when Minho was finally going to be comfortable to be intimate, what was a little bit of cum going to do to someone so eager?

After two fingers were inside of Minho, rolling around and repeatedly curling up against the sensitive, firm muscle inside of him, he could feel warm breath on his skin. Changbin was waiting for some sort of approval to move forward, and Minho eagerly nodded, mumbling out some sort of incoherent pleading. 

The combination of fingers inside of him with a hot, wet tongue working around his sensitive cock made him audibly gasp. He flexed his thighs together involuntarily, his back arching upward. Every small move that Changbin did brought him so much closer to coming, and the imminent release made Minho unravel further. 

One lick, two circles. One suck, a firm come hither motion. 

Minho wasn’t sure how it was happening, but his body started to jerk, his toes curling inward, and he was lifting himself off of the bed. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, scrambling to grab at Changbin’s hair and failing, only to have his boyfriend’s free hand find him. They locked their fingers between the empty spaces and held on for dear life. “Changbin, fuck, I’m—”

Before Minho could register his orgasm, his body lurched forward and lifted up off of the bed, balancing mostly on Changbin’s shoulders. He could feel his vocal cords tense and vibrate as he shouted, and his legs were suddenly soaked with sweat and cum. It was impossible to steady his breathing for several moments, too taken aback by how much his muscles were aching and how drenched his skin was. 

“Minho, babe,” Changbin’s voice was low and gritty, each syllable embraced by little gasps, “you completely soaked me. Look at how much you came.”

The older man was embarrassed before he even opened his eyes. “I’m sorry you’re going to have to shower again.” Minho slowly calmed his breathing, sleepily staring up at the spinning ceiling. “But on the plus side, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.”

“Hyung,” Changbin growled and stood up, crawling over Minho atop the bed, “I’m dripping in cum. My shirt is drenched.”

For a split second, Minho felt a little bad for how hard and how much he had came, but the look on Changbin’s face made it all worth it. “Good god,” he purred, “I’m keeping this look of yours locked away in my spank bank for when you’re away.”

Changbin licked his teeth and pulled his shirt off, tossing it over his shoulder. “I’d love to see you jerk off one of these days, you know. Spank bank content for spank bank content and all.”

“You’d think of me when you’re having a wank in the shower? I’m flattered.”

“And now I know what your cum tastes like. I’m going to be even more ravenous for you now than ever before.” Changbin hooked his thumbs into his sweats and pulled down, his cock springing free from the fabric with a thick string of precum rolling down from the head. “Look at what you’ve done to me, hyung. One wrong move and I’m gonna burst.”

Minho stared at the reddened top of Changbin’s cock and licked his lips. “Guess I’ll have to be extra cautious when I take that cherry of yours. I bet you’d look so pretty stuffed with some cock inside of you, hmm?”

The younger man nodded and crawled atop of Minho’s lap, eagerly leaning down to pepper excited kisses on his face. “I’m a little nervous. You’ll be good to me, right?”

A lilted giggle came from Minho as he pushed Changbin back a bit, grabbing fistfuls of his ass. “I’ll take things nice and slow, baby. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours and just relax, okay?” He pressed some deep, hasty kisses against his boyfriend’s lips as he lifted his hips and gently shifted Changbin’s weight to the bed. “Why don’t you work on getting all lubed up while I get ready?”

Changbin pouted while Minho pulled away, his hand earnestly trailing down to the bottle of lube that had found its way next to his thigh. “Hey,” he grabbed Minho's hand before he could totally get off of the bed, “do you want me to, like. look away while you get prepped? I’m not making this weird or anything, am I?”

The tender muscles in Minho’s stomach lit up with nerves, trying to oddly rile him up while still feeling nervous. “It’s not weird,” he bashfully admitted, eyeing the corner of the room as he turned away, “I don’t know if it’s going to be particularly enjoyable to watch, but you can if you wanna.” Why in the world would it be entertaining to watch someone shove a synthetic cock into a harness?

“Well, if you think it’s creepy if I watch or something, just tell me, okay?” Changbin licked his lips, the saliva accentuating the gentle grin he had on his face. 

Minho playfully slapped the side of Changbin’s arm and lifted himself off the bed, shimmying over to the desk with his weak, jelly-like legs. “You’re kind of a perv, you know? I don’t think I’ve dated someone that’s this attentive and energetic — and I’ve fucked a lot of straight dudes.” He could feel Changbin staring at him as he grabbed the briefs he’d bought specifically for this occasion. When he stepped into the leg holes and slid them up his legs, his eyes locked onto the average-sized prosthetic he was most familiar with, and he knew that’s the one he would end up using. 

The room was quiet while Minho grabbed the toy off of the desk and carefully tucked it into his underwear, right through the tightly stitched ring inside of it. He had practised this many times to feel like a natural at it by the time he and Changbin eventually slept together, but Minho could still feel his blood rushing inside of his head, scared that maybe his boyfriend did find this a little weird after all. Still, the silence continued, shifting from confused to intrigued. 

“Can I see it yet?”

It was obvious that Changbin was trying to be patient but was miserably failing. Minho turned his head over his shoulder long enough to see Changbin stare at him. He turned his attention back to the silicone between his legs and deeply inhaled before working up the courage to turn around. This was the first time he was going to be seen as a man with a (mostly) functioning, (mostly) realistic-looking cock (as long as it wasn’t inspected too closely) — to a man born with a functioning, real, skin-and-literal-actual-balls cock, and he was nervous. 

“I don’t,” Minho’s voice cracked as an interjection while he anxiously turned around fully, “I dunno if it’s anywhere near what you expected but—”

“That’s going inside of me?” Changbin sputtered out, lube-soaked fingers frozen, plunged halfway inside of his entrance. “Oh my god, that’s going inside of me.”

Minho took a moment to process the words coming from his boyfriend’s mouth. He couldn’t figure out if it was a positive or negative statement, standing in the middle of the floor perhaps a bit dumbly. “Not until you’ve been properly stretched, but yeah,” he nodded, his throat dry as he tried to form a coherent sentence, ”I’d like to fuck you until you go cross-eyed with this, if you’re into it.”

Changbin shifted his weight, scooting down the bed a bit until his head was nicely placed at the middle of his pillow. He shimmied his hips up a bit and nibbled at his lips while his fingers circled around his entrance. “I’m into it,” he nodded, his cock noticeably throbbing and leaking more than before, “I wanna watch you the whole time. How do you want me to lay here?”

For a moment, Minho’s mind went completely blank. When he bottomed with previous partners prior to transitioning, he usually faced away, burying his face as deeply into the pillow as he could stand. Thinking back on it made him realise that the easiest face-to-face interaction would probably require Changbin putting in all of the effort, which Minho didn’t expect. However, the fleeting mental image of watching Changbin lower himself onto his cock made Minho completely breathless.

“I think I want you to ride me?” Minho’s voice squeaked as he ended his statement with an upward inflection, insecurity bleeding into it, making it sound more like a question. “Y-yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I definitely want that, actually.”

Changbin licked his bottom lip and slowly made his way up to his knees, watching Minho curiously. “You’re sure?”

Minho crawled onto the bed, kneeling right in front of Changbin. He nervously reached up to cup his boyfriend’s face before he planted a soft, quick kiss on his lips. “I’m certain, yeah. Are you stretched out enough for me?”

“Mm,” Changbin reached behind him and pulled the bottle of lube out, squeezing a generous amount into his hand, “I’m ready for you. Might take a second to acclimate, but I’ll make sure it’s a good show for you.” A devilish grin crept up the corners of his lips, and he slowly reached his hands down to the synthetic cock awkwardly jutting out of Minho’s harness. “Can I lube you up, baby?”

A lump got caught in Minho’s throat as he watched some lube drip down from Changbin’s hand onto his lap. He awkwardly reached out to grab Changbin’s hips, leading him back a bit so that he could lean against the wall. “Yeah. Is this position gonna be good, or should I move a little more—”

Changbin straddled Minho and cut him off with a deep kiss, swiping his tongue against Minho’s dry bottom lip. He dragged his teeth across the sensitive flesh and nipped firmly enough to make Minho whimper. Changbin pulled back slightly, letting his hands work on getting the dildo slicked up. “You’re doing that thing you do when you overthink. While I think it’s cute, I know that means you’re letting yourself freak out, and I don’t want you to worry.” He slowly lined himself up against the head of the cock and pressed his forehead against Minho’s. “Have a little faith in me, won’t you? It’s my first time doing this, too, and we’re doing pretty well for ourselves. Let me take control for a little bit, baby.”

Minho nervously nodded and awkwardly let his hands hover over Changbin’s hips, swallowing hard as he watched his boyfriend start to take him in. “S-should I, like, where should I put my hands? Do they go on your hips? Do I jerk you off?”

A light chuckle came from Changbin. “Minho, baby,” he whispered, using the back of his free hand to force Minho to meet his eyes, “do whatever’s natural. Stop overthinking and relax a little. It’ll come to you in a sec, ‘kay?”

“W…what?” Minho stuttered, then watched Changbin’s face contort into a bit of pain before he bit back a loud moan. His eyes immediately went wide, and he looked down to his lap.

It was only just the head, but his cock was actually inside of his boyfriend.

“Holy fuck.” Minho’s hands fell to the tops of Changbin’s thighs, almost as if he were helping guide his boyfriend down. He watched Changbin’s cock pulse as he hovered in the same spot, precum slowly spilling down his flesh. “You’re doing so well. I never thought I’d say this, but you look so good riding my dick like this.”

Changbin sharply inhaled through his teeth and looked down at Minho, his free hand pushing his chin up with his thumb, while the rest of his fingers rested at the back of Minho’s neck. “I could say the same about you, how good and eager you look popping my cherry right now.”

A sharp breath escaped Minho’s lips, like he’d been punched in the sternum. Something about the way Changbin phrased his dirty talk made his stomach flip, and he could feel his cock throb, begging for attention. “I haven’t even fucked you yet and I’m already looking forward to round two.”

Changbin softly laughed and continued sinking himself down onto Minho’s lap. “You haven’t even gotten me off yet and you’re already thinking about your needs? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue, hyung?” 

Before Minho could respond, Changbin moaned loudly, his thighs coming into contact with Minho’s. He whimpered as he shakily, desperately kissed his way around Minho’s face until their lips met. They exchanged needy, passionate kisses while Changbin grabbed Minho’s hand and brought it to his dripping cock, silently begging to be touched. “Not too fast,” Changbin whispered at an elevated pitch, “just a little extra attention in a sec. It’s not gonna take long with you inside of me.”

Minho nodded and only slowly circled his thumb at the base of Changbin’s cock. “How’s it feel?” Sure, Minho had experienced the sensations of penetration before, but he was so curious to hear what exactly his boyfriend was feeling, and if it was anything similar to how good it felt for him. 

Changbin pressed a quick kiss to Minho’s lips before he placed his hands on the wall, pushing away a bit. His eyes were half-open, full of lust as he stared hungrily down at Minho. “It feels like we should be doing this at least once a week.” He reached one of his hands down to Minho’s hoodie and cocked his head to the side. “You still want this on? I know I’m gonna come all over it.”

“You already have to wash the sheets,” Minho reached down to Changbin’s hand, guiding it up under the fabric, past the scars under his pecs, “what’s a little more laundry for the night?”

The younger man looked surprised as his fingers grazed the soft skin of Minho’s chest. “You’ve never let me touch you here… you sure about this?”

Minho nodded. “It’s a night of firsts, and a lot of euphoria. I trust you, baby.”

A soft, eager smile immediately spread across Changbin’s face, baring his teeth. He giggled and nodded. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.” The look on Changbin’s face made Minho feel completely at ease, like tonight was going way better than either of them had anticipated. Minho slowly wrapped his fingers around the base of Changbin’s short and thick cock, careful to avoid the head for now. “C’mon,” he whispered, “fuck yourself on my dick, baby. Show me what those hips of yours can do.”

Changbin shuddered and slowly started to rock his hips, pressing more of his weight against Minho’s chest and the wall behind them. He clamped his eyelids shut as he slowly moved, unintelligible words spilling from his lips. His motions were low and shallow, but whatever he was doing seemed to make him feel good, making his nails dig into Minho’s chest hard enough to leave marks.

“That’s it.” Minho watched Changbin, taking in every small change of expression as he started to work his boyfriend’s flesh in his hand. This moment was something he wanted to bask in for the rest of his life. “How’s it feel to ride your boyfriend’s cock?”

“It’s good,” Changbin gasped, rolling his head to the side, “you’re so thick, Minho. It’s like you were made to be inside of me.”

A deep chuckle came from Minho’s throat. He kept his jerking motions gentle and slow until Changbin started to ride him faster, the harness causing enough friction against his cock to feel like it was really his flesh inside of his boyfriend. “That cute, fucked-out look on your face looks like you were meant to ride me for the rest of your life. You’re about to come, aren’t you?”

A tiny, shaky whimper came from Changbin as he weakly nodded his head. He partially opened his eyes, staring at Minho with a pleading gaze. “So close. Make me come, baby. Need you…”

Minho grabbed Changbin’s hip and dug his heels into the bed, thrusting his hips upward. The motion made Changbin curl inward and moan loudly, gasping out Minho’s name intermingled with broken pleas. For this being his first time taking control and fucking someone else, Minho felt a rush of pride help guide his hips and hand in the right motions. “Look at me, Changbin.”

Between thrusts, Changbin gasped and managed to maintain eye contact with Minho, visibly barely holding on.

“Come for me.”

With one last snap of Minho’s hips, Changbin cried out and fell forward onto his hands. Cum shot up between them, some staining Minho’s hoodie and some landing on both of their faces. As soon as the last dribble of cum spilled from his cock, Changbin collapsed into Minho’s chest, panting hard.

Minho could feel their sweat leach into the sheets, and he enjoyed the way Changbin’s back felt slick with cool sweat on his flushed skin as he rubbed his hands into the flesh. He turned his head and buried his nose into Changbin’s hair, taking in the smell of his conditioner and the smell of sex, feeling so many positive emotions as he did so. “I love you.” Minho whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his boyfriend’s head. “I love you so much.”

Changbin whined and slowly turned his head to face Minho, looking at him for only a moment before letting his eyelids flutter shut again. “I love you too. I’m gonna feel this in the morning, aren’t I?”

The way Changbin flatly delivered his question made Minho cackle. “Oh, baby,” he nudged his head against Changbin’s forehead and trailed his fingers down his back, “you’ve really never taken dick before, have you? You’ll be a little sore, sure, but I bet you’ll still be on cloud nine in the morning.”

Again, Changbin whined, this time a bit more dramatically. He snaked his arms around Minho’s back and groaned, burying his head deep into his boyfriend’s neck. “Sleep sounds good right now. Could get cosy right here and pass out, actually.”

“Oh no,” Minho wrapped his arms around Changbin and slowly forced them both upright, “we are absolutely not sleeping in these nasty sheets and I refuse to have your cum dry on our faces. C’mon,” he poked Changbin in the sides to jolt him upright, “you promised you would clean up the mess you made.”

“Technically,” Changbin grumbled, “you’re the one that made such a mess.” He peeled himself away from Minho’s chest and pouted. “I just happened to make you make said mess.”

Minho rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Changbin onto his back, giggling as he peppered kisses all over his boyfriend’s upper chest. “Okay, Mr Always-Sticks-to-his-Principles,” he quickly suckled a love bite into Changbin’s collarbone before staring down his boyfriend, “you can argue semantics all you want as you load our messy sheets into the laundry, then you can join me in the shower for round two. How’s that sound?”

Changbin’s eyes went wide and his face immediately brightened up. “Y-you’re really gonna let me shower with you? And, just to clarify, you want more sex? In the shower? Are you feeling okay?”

A giggle came from Minho as he propped himself up on his knees. “I’m feeling quite well, actually. I’m just a little insatiable once I get a taste of something I love. Get used to it.” He slowly pulled out of Changbin, enjoying the way his boyfriend’s face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain. “I’m going to go hop in the shower, and I expect to see you there soon, pretty boy.”

Without notice, Minho got off of the bed and made his way towards the washroom with vigour in each step, smiling proudly to himself. His biggest fear had been conquered, and he felt warm as he thought about how well his first time with Changbin had gone. There were brief moments of dysphoria, sure, but the constant reassurance from his boyfriend felt natural and made him more comfortable. Maybe all of the panic he had worked himself up over was worth it in the end, and they could slowly work towards more regular physical intimacy.

This was where the whole night spiked again, a pulse that had already run ragged, rearing up again as the only thing the girl knew was that what happened to her sister was painfully unfair. She dropped down, teeth and nails trying with everything she had left to tear Chan apart for bringing this to them – and he only held her. Lia had scrambled up onto the couch, away from Yuna in her fury. Chan let go of Felix and grappled his arms around the girl, pulling her down and so close that she couldn’t get enough distance between them to maul him. That didn’t stop her from trying, of course, as Yuna only kept growling and screaming muffled, unintelligible curses and trying to unpin her arms from where they were trapped between their chests… until she stopped. And it became apparent why, the shaking rise and fall of Chan’s shoulders as he buried his face in the girl’s hair saying more than you needed to hear. They held each other then, Yuna still tearfully and angrily insisting that this wasn’t fair and Chan whispering in her shoulder over and over again that he was so, so sorry.

It was then that Joanne had carefully slipped Chaeryeong’s body off her lap, sliding a reassuring hand over Lucy’s shoulder before she came over and stooped down to get Lia’s attention. Your friend had gone rigid, backed into the corner of the couch, not really looking at anything but the quiet tears gathered at the corners of her eyes betraying her silence. Joanne softly held Lia’s face in her hands. “We can talk about this,” she had softly assured her, barely loud enough for you to hear, “but we need to do something now. There’s nothing else that can be done for them, right?”

Lia did look at her then, truly looked at her, and tepidly nodded. “That’s right,” she croaked. “I need to bury them before sun-up.”

Jisung finally, quietly, moved, letting go of you and striding over to place a comforting hand on Lia’s shoulder as well. He had said that he’d seen Felix and Judy in a clearing in the woods together, just off the path, and he’d seen him there by himself regularly during the day. Chan had dazedly nodded in agreement. His hold on Yuna had relaxed by now, only soothingly rubbing the girl’s back while she still fiercely clutched onto him and cried bitter tears into his shirt.

However, the sudden camaraderie diminished when it had come time to actually bury the young lovers. You, Yuna, and Chan all locked eyes with each other as everyone else worked, and Chan had been the one to finally move and pitch in. Yuna only glowered at you, and you had known instantly that you were, truly, at least partly to blame. Then again, no matter how quickly you’d brought Chan back to the house, it may not have saved Chaeryeong.

Lia had no words when the two lovers were in the dirt. No one had any words except, at last, for Jisung.

“This didn't have to happen,” Jisung murmured. “But we can make sure it never happens again.”

A dull pang of discontent had rattled your chest, not quite knowing if you agreed with Jisung no matter how much you loved him.

You drifted back to the present, not quite feeling like your feet were your own and the lump of muscle in your chest that resembled a heart feeling more like an anvil. Jisung’s hands were warm as he scrubbed the dirt and viscera off of you. He paused, fingers twitching as he got a better view of the raw wound Chan had raked into your shoulder. You could still feel his hands on you as clearly as you could feel Jisung’s.

“I can only imagine how hard you had to fight to get him to the house,” Jisung grumbled in stark sympathy, almost insisting on it. You were sure there was more than one reason for that, but instead you held your tongue, mindlessly watching the crimson swirls in the water until Jisung was satisfied. He helped you out of the tub and into a towel, before he walked you out of the bathroom and tipped you down to sit on the edge of the bed. Jisung’s eyes were cloudy, downcast as he held your bruised and scuffed hands in his own.

“Jisung, I–” you futilely began before he shushed you with his lips on your brow. Good thing, too, because you didn't know how to explain what happened with Chan under the full moon.

“I love you,” he murmured.

When? You waited for the next part.

I loved you last night and I love you tonight. That's what he was supposed to say next.

The silence felt disgusting.

And even though you were all cleaned up now, the lasting ghosts of handprints in your skin felt disgusting, too.

Even Jisung’s.

Jisung was bitter, or at least that’s what it looked like. Or maybe he was distraught over the double murder and burial you all just witnessed and participated in. You suddenly felt sick, catching yourself so blatantly making this about you.

You could hear the girls crying down the hall, an embarrassingly surprising revelation as you noticed that it was the more bubbly Lucy comforting the seemingly much more formidable Joanne. It crashed down on top of you like a wave, just how much you’d focused on yourself lately. Whether it was you and Chan, or you and Jisung, or you and Lia, or you and Rand – it was always you. Even when it was Chan and Jisung getting closer, all that truly mattered was how it affected you. No wonder you made yourself so sick. Putting yourself first for so long made it easy to feel alone on a ship swinging in the sea.

In the fog you wandered into in your mind, you almost forgot Jisung was still here. You almost assumed he would've left to find a different room or a couch to finally catch some fleeting, desperate sleep, but he didn’t. Jisung nudged you into bed and followed close behind, still wearing his filthy clothes coated in dirt and blood. Your sun-kissed buck was still in there, though, and his scent enveloped you like a blanket.

His first shaky breath rattled you, a stiff, alarmed chill ringing down between your shoulder blades as his exhale caressed the nape of your neck. You almost called out to him, but instead you settled to quietly slide your hands onto his when they wrapped around you and dragged you close. Jisung flinched, apparently off in his own thoughts when you rolled back over to softly cup his face. When you hazarded a look in the dim room, Jisung’s eyebrows were furrowed deep in every wrought feeling of the whole damned night.

“None of us did anything,” he spoke softly, so nearly a whimper. “We just let it happen.”

“You did more than enough tonight,” you quietly admonished him.

“But we could’ve done more. I could’ve done more–”

“Don’t start that,” you sympathetically scolded. “We all could've done more. You can’t carry all of us.”

“Baby, I don’t even feel like I can carry myself,” Jisung brokenly laughed under his breath.

“Then don’t,” you decided. “I’m here. This won’t happen in one night.”

“I love you,” he relented, leaning his forehead against yours as if to end the conversation.

“I love you, too,” you repeated. “I loved you last night, I love you tonight, and I'll love you tomorrow.”

Jisung froze in your hands when you said the next part, but he eventually relaxed in your arms again, falling into you as you kissed his brow. This was disorienting. For how worried you had been about being monstrous, the way you could shove through your own self-doubt to insist on carrying Jisung when he clearly needed you felt selfless and selfish all at once, a mix of humble and arrogant that made you uncomfortable. Instead of reckoning with this now, though, you were exhausted. Your body felt anchored through the core of the earth and in a desperate bid to shrug off this distress for just a night, you kissed Jisung’s brow again. The only thing was that Jisung clutched you tighter, nudging your chin down again until he could press his lips to yours. This was so wholly and instantly comforting that you disappeared into this, letting Jisung kiss your lips and face as he held fast to you, like you were the last thing holding him down.

Maybe you were.

Jisung gently pressed his palm to your shoulder, rolling you away from him so he could wrap his arms around you to pull your back against his chest again and kiss the nape of your neck. He didn’t say anything but, to be honest, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

Except there were Jisung’s lips in your hair, almost in the pillow as he hugged your hips closer to his.

“I love you,” he murmured again. Instead of answering him out loud, you slid your hand over his that had drifted low on your belly, now falling further below your navel. You pushed him along, mutually agreeing on the only coping method that had really helped so far. When you felt Jisung hips almost warily cant up towards yours, you pushed back. This was a silent, more efficient discourse, wordlessly asking and confirming that you were both too tired and alone to do anything else.

Jisung did repeat himself in your ear again when you felt him prod up against you from behind.

“I love you.”

It only felt more distant, less clear now. Jisung followed your hand on his down to your hip and you almost sighed in relief the moment he touched you. You twisted your torso back more towards him, straining to capture his lips in another kiss as he caressed you, his touches quickly getting more harried as your lips met.

“I love you–”

There it was again, and still with no next part. You cut him off, swallowed his words, pulling him in and goading him to let go more until he finally got you warmed up enough to gently ease into you. It almost wasn’t even moving fast enough, honestly, and you found yourself thrusting back, making Jisung gasp and sigh behind you, clutching your hips tight as he nestled himself deep inside you.

As opposed to your obsessive and affectionate love making over the past month, regardless of how much of it was jealousy, it was starkly different from this. Here, Jisung clearly fought between taking his time and finding comfort and safety inside you, and simply destroying this bed you made together and taking out every torrid feeling from the short time you’d known each other now. This was fair. This was understandable. You almost felt bad for Jisung, wanting to stop him and pet his hair and really let him know that you were there, but you were still so torn. You’d learned a lot in a short amount of time. Jisung was jealous. Jisung was clingy and dependent. Jisung could and did already lie to you. You weren’t innocent by any loose definition of the word, but he wasn’t either. Jisung was terrific. He was kind, he was loving, and he was brave in his earned loyalty. You loved him. You loved that he loved you.

But right now you just wanted to lose yourself for a moment in this bed. If Jisung was still repeating his assurance that he loved you, whether for yours or his sake, you didn't hear it. All you heard was the creak of the bed, your intermittent gasps and sighs, and Jisung’s occasional moan… until you heard his breath shake again.

When you strained your neck back to see Jisung again, the moon in the window glinted off the misting of tears gathered at his eyelashes.

“Oh, Jisung…”

You couldn’t help the way you fretted over him. Jisung didn’t stop you as you lifted yourself off his length and rolled over again, putting yourself into his reaching arms and even pulling you on top of him. His hands clung strong and desperate around your waist as you slid him back inside your warmth, his grip wavering when you gently rocked against him and kissed him once more. Now this was easier, actually, setting the pace and chasing some relief as Jisung laid in the pillows, eyes closed and brows furrowed in his mounting pleasure. This was what you wanted, some white noise to drown yourselves in like you’d done for the past month, only much different now.

It was to such a degree that you almost missed the start of an actual release, considering you apparently hadn’t even been looking for it. Your breath hitched in your throat, and when Jisung finally opened his eyes, your gazes locked in mutual confirmation that you both got to enjoy this, too. Jisung groaned low in his throat, his hands on your waist gripping tight and squeezing you over the edge, washing over into a gentle and fleeting release for both of you. You sighed and shivered through it as Jisung did, until you finally rolled off of him. Jisung turned to face you. The tight feeling in your stomach was back.

“I’m still happy we found each other,” Jisung whispered as he got more comfortable, eyes already closed. “No matter what happens, I love that we found each other.”

You left that sentiment as it stood. It was just as true for you, as far as you could tell. Jisung sighed complacently as you kissed his brow again, right where you’d started, and he was asleep in moments.

Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though. Instead, you were now painfully aware that you really did find each other, and you had a whole life waiting for you back at school. A life with no Jisung, no Chan, none of this. The quiet in the room was crushing, a room in a house a whole lifetime away from your life back in the city. You wondered if Lia contacted Professor Meyer since you first arrived. The more you thought about it, the more you were sure he was crucial to Lia trying to find out more about Shepherd’s cursed cure before he wrought any more destruction.

You may have never even left school if that detective all that time ago never gave you your hint as to where Chan might be. Your aunt’s house hadn’t even been intended to be your final destination; you had been planning on spending a day or two there and moving on to the next town down the coast. But there he was.

There was no way that detective could've known what he was suggesting when you gave him your account of what happened in the library. It was odd, what you could remember when your mind was still trying to find someone or something to blame. That detective had been young, handsome in a suit he’d probably worn for a long shift, his tie loose under his sharp chin. He was kind and charming, but he was gentle with you. His eyes had lit up when you mentioned Chan’s name. Detective Seo, you remembered now, when he pulled out his badge to show you. He answered your questions, explained that when you disarmed the security alarm to run inside to your desk, that you also disarmed the rare books section and main office, where they would normally shutter themselves behind fireproof roll-down doors if someone tried to enter without a keycard. Detective Seo, now that you recalled him so clearly, was genuine and knowledgeable. You wondered where he was now, and if he had any idea what he inadvertently caused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　🌕　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You must've fallen asleep before dawn caught you, as you felt groggy when you finally woke up. The bed was empty. Jisung’s dirtied and bloodstained clothes were piled on the floor by the bathroom with a small mountain of towels. He apparently scrubbed himself raw before going about his day. You scanned the room but refused to get out of bed yet. Jisung’s book that he was currently reading was missing, but his sunglasses were sitting on top of the dresser. His mud-caked boots stood by the door, and his jacket was hung up. He was still in the house, but he wasn’t here. You stubbornly, forlornly, shoved yourself deeper into the bed. If you were lucky, the sheets would swallow you whole and you wouldn’t be hurting over Felix, Judy, or any of this anymore. None of you did enough. No one did anything at all.

The first owl of the night sounded like it was interrupted, and you finally sat up in bed again, only to be distracted by the distressing sound of sprinting, bare footsteps slapping down the hallway.

Another door swung open out in the hall, and now you could get a better idea of just what was wrong.

“She wasn't with you?” Lia asked.

“No, we thought she was with you!” Lucy worriedly groaned.

Yuna. You recalled last night, as much as you didn't want to, when you got out of bed to pull some clothes on. After the deed had been done and Judy and Felix had been buried, Yuna sat down on her sister's grave. Jisung had followed you back into the house, just as the girls followed Lia, but you couldn't place Yuna in that memory.

Only the frantic sounds of the girls running around could be heard as you silently yanked on your boots and a jacket over your sweater. No one heard or noticed you descending the stairs, and nothing had seemed to alert Jisung that you were up yet.

It was alien and disheartening to be so insistent on him noticing your presence.

The leaves hardly crunched underfoot as they were still trapped in a layer of fresh rain, and you went to retrace the footsteps of the previous night as you headed out to the clearing. The trail smelled refreshing, and the lanterns and solar lights that decorated the path felt oddly welcoming as you walked back into the forest. The cool air that met your nose brought the faintest smell of wildflowers and peaches. Felix and Judy were still out here, growing more prominent as you followed the pathway.

A regal maple tree stood at the edge of the clearing, and the only thing that looked out of place were the patches of disrupted soil underneath it where the young where the star-crossed lovers lay. The quiet woods almost seemed to agree that the previous night had been enough excitement for a lifetime. A subdued rustle startled you. Yuna?

You were startled into a harsh gasp as a deer sprinted out into your path instead, seemingly not noticing you until it nearly ran into you. A rough set of claw marks reflected deep crimson on its hide. You humored, for a moment, if this was Chan’s deer that he freed the other night, but there was no chance. The small doe showed no teeth marks from a trap on its legs. What was even more intriguing is you hadn’t had a chance to closely observe a deer since you met Jisung, not until Chan’s. It really was fitting of him, the way this doe looked and wavered, not approaching you but not rushing to run away. It was as if it wanted to come closer, if not for anything but its own curiosity, but didn’t want to allow itself the risk. You quietly waved your hands at the deer, trying to encourage it deeper into the woods instead of the other way towards Lia’s house. If that thing ended up by the road, there was no telling what it would do if it were scared. You knew from years growing up in a similar area, that while whitetail deer were wary of people as a whole, they had no problem trying to cross a road in the middle of the night, regardless if there was a car in the way.

You finally caught sight of Yuna as she stirred somewhat, apparently roused by the noise, and this was the last push the deer needed to leave. You were left alone with Yuna in the clearing as the doe bounded away. The girl was wrapped up in herself at the foot of the great maple tree, tucked in under a neighboring shrub at the base of the trunk that rattled with the breeze. You rushed over, dropping to your knees beside her and gently shaking her shoulder. Yuna awoke with a start. She gasped when her eyes snapped open and she quickly took in her surroundings, first the night and the trees and finally you.

“Oh crap,” Yuna groggily murmured, “did I–”

“Yeah,” you sympathetically nodded, “everyone’s looking for you. They're going to be glad you're alright; I don't need to tell you how dangerous being caught outside during the day could’ve been.”

Nonetheless, Yuna was in no rush to return to the house. You waited, almost cautious to see how Yuna would emerge from her day sleeping out in the open. Instead, the girl simply sat up and combed the leaves out of her long, black hair with her fingers.

“Last night, I hung back and sat for a second, and I remembered something,” Yuna wearily began, almost as if she were lost on her way to being fully awake. “When I was little, I got stuck playing hide and seek with my sister. Literally stuck. Chae found me crying, upside down, wedged between a sofa and an end table in a dark sitting room. She told me I'd always be safe if we were together. And as a tiny, stupid brat, I told her we couldn't always be together. That would be impossible. So Chae told me that as long as she was alive and breathing, that we would always be together, no matter if we were far apart.”

You listened, unsure of how exactly to proceed when another jarring rustle coursed through the leaves, separate from the light wind. Suddenly, you were brought back to your twilight encounter with Felix. You wondered if he helped Chaeryeong feel safe out here in the clearing.

Yuna sighed, either ignoring the sound or not noticing it. “My sister has had crushes and boyfriends before. When Lia and Ryujin first scooped us up, they tried to put us in extracurricular activities to keep us social when Lia wasn’t homeschooling us, but of course that’s hard when night school isn’t really a thing out here and there’s not much for girls our age to do after dark. She’d let us go to some local dances, and Chae would always find a boy, but none of them were like… him. She’s never been like she was with Felix.”

The brisk chill of the night air crept up your neck. Every pull you felt towards Chan since you had met him kept clawing at you. The pain you heard in Chan’s voice as he tried to reason with Felix sounded just like Felix’s own desperate defenses of his behavior.

You could believe it.

Whatever you and Chan were denying yourselves and each other, Felix and Chaeryeong naively welcomed until it destroyed them. They were in love, sure, but there was surely something else there as well.

“I don’t know why Lia couldn’t tell her,” Yuna scorned. “I don’t know why she couldn’t tell me when I asked. I don’t know why no one even told you, apparently. No one did anything. We’d never even met lycans before, so why couldn’t Lia do the bare minimum to protect us? I love Lia. I literally owe her my life. But now I feel like she’s protected us by simply hiding us away from everything. And now I’m just alone.”

“You’re not alone,” you weakly insisted.

“You know what I mean,” Yuna bluntly bit back.

“Please come back to the house,” you gently pleaded, “you know the girls are beside themselves.”

“You’re right,” Yuna relented. She ignored your offered hand to help her up and got up to her feet herself before she pointedly looked at you. “Lia and Jisung let us down, you know that, right? They let us down and now my sister is gone.”

“You’re right,” you firmly agreed. “Now let’s head back.”

The two of you walked in exhausted silence through the other end of the clearing, opting instead to walk along the lakefront where there would be more moonlight along with the lamps the girls had placed along the path some time ago. Lia’s home loomed, feeling more like a memorial than a house. The rocks along the edge of the lake clattered under your boots when you felt Yuna pause next to you. You followed her gaze before you paused as well.

Chan sat, still dozing himself, curled up in his lawn chair at the line where the woods gave way to the small shore. The moonlight highlighted his bleached tresses, even bringing out his naturally dark undergrowth. A few beer bottles lay at the foot of his chair. You could hardly stop Yuna as she impulsively marched up to him, kicking a foot up into the arm of Chan’s chair and toppling it over.

Chan awoke with a sputtered curse before he quickly got his bearings, shuffling away from Yuna with his fingers scrambling against the rocky ground. “Hey–!” Chan snapped, only to swallow it back down once he noticed who it was.

“What do you even do?” Yuna scowled. “Lia told me you’re some cop and she’s helping you out, but what are you doing for us? All I know is you didn’t keep Felix away from my sister.”

“I didn’t,” Chan shook his head miserably, “and I should’ve. I tried but I didn’t try enough. I let myself get so caught up trying to keep my one last contact back at my base. This one last detective has been watching everyone on the force blackball me and–”

“Maybe for good reason,” Yuna seethed. She stepped closer, making Chan reflexively shuffle back. You winced as you remembered Chan, under you and retreating the same way in the boiler room. “What have you even accomplished?” Yuna continued. “My sister is dead, Chan, and for what?”

“I’m sorry–”

“I don’t give a shit, and you know that,” Yuna hissed. “Do you have any siblings? I doubt it, because if you did you would’ve known you wouldn’t just be protecting her if you kept her away from Felix. I can’t believe Lia said you’d help us.”

Chan was cryptically silent for once, returning Yuna’s hard gaze before you finally laid a hand on her shoulder.

“You know he isn’t worth it,” you prodded her. “He isn’t going to help you settle this inside of you.”

“Why would I want his fucking help?” Yuna laughed in exasperation. “He’s the last person I want help from. I’m furious, I’m numb, I’m heartbroken, I’m all sorts of things right now, and I just know that he’s a huge reason for that. I’m allowed to be angry. I’m allowed to be fucking pissed.”

“You’re right,” Chan murmured, catching you off guard. Any and all energy sounded sapped out of him. However, as Chan only looked at Yuna, Yuna only looked at you. And, as much as you wanted to try and help the girl into a less destructive mindset, you knew damn well that you would be in the exact same place in her situation.

Finally, though, Yuna seemed to be sated. The girl let out a deep, steadying breath, and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she walked back to the house. Chan could be heard finally getting to his feet behind you as you rushed along behind Yuna, trying to keep up. Yuna marched right up to the back porch of the house and into the kitchen.

Joanne – Ryujin, rather, if you thought you recalled correctly – and Lucy both sprang up from where they sat at the breakfast nook, but Yuna only stomped past them and out to the foyer so she could go upstairs. You all exchanged glances as Yuna’s door could be heard slamming shut. Behind you, a set of footsteps could be heard out on the porch, but Chan didn’t join the two of you in coming inside.

“Thanks for finding her,” Lucy said somberly from across the kitchen. Despite her normally lithe stature, Lucy seemed markedly stiff. The sleeves of her comfortable henley were rolled up to her elbows, and her long hair sat in a cursory knot atop her head. Between her and Ryujin, a bucket of cleaning supplies sat on the counter.

“I’m just glad she’s alright,” you awkwardly placated as you excused yourself into the foyer and up the stairs as well. As true as it was, just standing in Lia’s home felt suffocating now. You could only imagine how much deeper that penetrated for Lia herself and the girls, who’d lived here for years. This was their sanctuary, almost too tucked away from the world, but it was almost as though there were a gouge running through it now.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for as you retreated to your room, but there was a pang in the void that once was your chest when you saw that the lights were still off and there was no sign of Jisung. The question of what you even wanted to find him for was plaguing you. It would be selfish to need comfort, but Jisung more than likely needed comfort himself. That was surely a good reason to go find him, so it only made sense to go looking for him.

Settling for this measly rationale, you headed towards the landing once again. Off to the side, another bucket of cleaning supplies sat where Judy had spilled out of her room just the other night. A faint stain on the hardwood trailed from the faded ghost of a puddle and down the hall, likely where Lia dragged Felix along. The sight of Lia’s nails digging into Felix’s arm where she had just shot him made you wrinkle your nose as you absently followed along, missing the way downstairs altogether.

However, here you saw a light on in the study, with the door only partially closed. You ducked past the doorway, hoping to see inside from the dim hallway. Within the study you could make out the rug on the hardwood floor, rolled up and pushed to the side. The floor shined like it was still drying after being scrubbed. On top of the end table closest to you, Lia’s revolver still sat, almost hidden behind a lamp. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you after all – Lia’s gun looked just like the one Jisung had lifted from Shepherd.

In fact, it wasn’t just Lia’s gun in the study. Lia sat on the couch… and there was Jisung. He wore his coat, looking like he had gone out after all – but exactly where to, you had no idea.

You were almost surprised, watching Jisung holding your friend close, gently stroking her hair as she lay collapsed into his shoulder, but you were also relieved. This was understandable. Jisung and Lia were kindred spirits, this much was readily apparent by now. But just like Jisung could keep secrets from you, so could Lia. You thought back to what Yuna said, about both of them letting all of you down. It was a tough pill to swallow.

“I just… I don’t even know what to do. I don’t know what I can do.”

Lia. Her voice roused you from the slope you were on the precipice of falling down.

“Come on, Julie, think for a second,” Jisung softly admonished, “there’s nothing you need to do right now.”

Julie? That was rich. From the moment you met her, it was abundantly clear that it was Lia or maybe Julia, but never Julie. Julie was Lia’s grandmother, which was all you knew and were allowed to know.

But it seemed that perhaps Jisung was allowed to know.

“I know, darling,” Lia sighed, “I just… This wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't want the poor boy to die. Just the opposite. But first he needed to understand how precious this gift was. He had to feel like he was dying to appreciate being alive… But then I got him killed.”

For once, your mind and gut agreed and shared the same conflict. You wanted to leave, but your feet remained rooted in place.

“You know you don't have to do this alone. You don't even have to do it here. You could go somewhere, you know,” Jisung encouraged. “Leave this behind and take a break.”

“I thought about that,” Lia agreed, “part of me wonders if I could ask Sam to take us in for a couple weeks, just to get away. The Meyer estate is huge, and I could take that godawful journal with me and leave them there.”

Professor Meyer? This made sense if he was more involved, now that you thought about it. Samuel Meyer acted like an old curmudgeon despite not looking a day over 50, and he was one of the first people Lia introduced you to when you first found each other. Finding out that someone like you could engage in life as normal gave you a good bit of hope in the beginning of all this, when that used to be your lowest point. The Professor prided himself on his rare books, and even gave you Lia’s old job, cataloguing and researching any and all old texts. There were times in your work where it was apparent that a book was rare, but sometimes it didn’t make sense why each and every of these books had value. The first time you expressed this thought to Professor Meyer, the man was nearly beside himself before he patiently sat himself next to you and explained that each book has value, but sometimes only to the right reader.

“See?” Jisung softly enthused. “That's a great idea.”

“I just…” Lia shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I don't know what to tell him. I don't know how to explain that I finally found what I'm looking for.”

This sentiment raked into you with a surprising vigor. Your fists clenched as you thumped the door open. Both Lia and Jisung jumped, whipping around to face you standing in the doorway.

“Sweetheart–” Lia gasped.

“You don't know how to tell him?” you rudely interrupted. “Seems the two of you don't quite know how to tell anyone anything lately.”

“We're not starting that again,” Jisung shot back, “that's not fair and you know it–”

“Oh, don't I know it!” you snapped. “If I had known, or Felix or Chaeryeong or even Yuna had known, we could've been more careful. I could've been more careful. That's what isn't fair.”

“Yeah?” Jisung sarcastically asked as he stood up now. “What did you need to be careful about?”

“Don't give me that shit,” you harshly pleaded. “You knew and you still weren't careful. You were still with him.”

“Just like you were?”

The question was plain and simple and hurt like hell.

“What do you want me to prove to you, Jay?” you asked, more quietly now, and hopefully with a more level head.

“Come with us to Professor Meyer’s,” Jisung bitterly offered. A goddamn ultimatum. “Leave Chan to his shit once and for all. Come with me.”

Jisung stepped forward. You took one step back.

“I can’t just leave this behind when we’re so deep in it,” you insisted with a weak shake of your head.

“Deep in it? I’m half-convinced your loyalty just lies elsewhere.”

“That’s not fucking fair, Jay,” you bit back, “even you like Chan plenty.”

Jisung reeled, astounded. “Sure! But I'm not the one that fucked him even though I hate him! I'm not a slave to my instincts like some fucking monster!”

The silence that stabbed down into both of you only stung more with how much Jisung appeared to immediately regret what he said. His hard glare suddenly softened, his fists unclenched as he retreated one step himself now.

You let out a pathetic scoff, your chest caving in a little more. “Fuck, Jay...”

“I… you know I love you.”

“When?” you bristled. “Tonight? Tomorrow?”

That same silence grew to be crushing in a matter of moments when Lia actually moved on the couch, as if she were about to finally say something.

Except the only sound that came next was some sort of crash downstairs.

And a piercing scream.

The three of you took a second to unfreeze and leap into action, Lia already desperately sprinting downstairs ahead of you and disappearing down the hall. You weren't sure what to expect – blood, carnage, or anything similar – but it absolutely wasn't Rand and the pack grinning as you turned the corner into the kitchen.

“There you are, little one.”

Rand smiled devilishly under his scraggly beard. He held Lia by the shoulder, while two other wolves held Lucy and Ryujin. “We have some unfinished business, but first we need to figure out where the rest of our friends are hiding.”

Almost as if on cue, one wolf dragged a kicking and snarling Yuna into the kitchen behind you. Two more tugged Chan along, cursing and struggling from the direction of the den. You each shared frantic glances again, just like the previous night in the clearing, when Rand led the way towards the dining room and you were all pulled along inside.

“There we go,” Rand nodded as he pushed Lia towards her girls. “So this is the famous Lia I’ve read about. You’re much smaller than I pictured. Now, someone needs to tell me where that damn journal is.”

“Leave them alone–!” Chan spat before a wolf quickly brought it upon himself to stuff a rag in his mouth. However, you agreed with how on edge he already was. It was abundantly clear that there were now a total of five vampires available for them, and Rand especially appeared to be very aware of this as he leered closer. A hand tepidly squeezed onto yours. Whether for your sake or his, you were still thankful for Jisung’s gesture despite having slung vitriol at each other just minutes before. He called you a fucking monster, but you were foolishly relieved nonetheless.

“The journal isn’t here,” Lia growled, her arms stretched out to shield the girls behind her. “I shipped it to the University two days ago.”

Rand and his cohorts shared some dubious looks, but you caught the pointed stare Lia directed at Jisung, and you knew instantly that this could only spell trouble. Wherever the cursed things were hiding, only Jisung and Lia knew. However, that wouldn’t help any of you right now, but perhaps the idea you just had could.

Jisung jumped as you reflexively squeezed his hand in yours and he immediately tried to silently deter you. You wouldn’t be discouraged though. Rand leaned down, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed the girls and landed on Yuna. The girl recoiled to shrink behind Lia, even though she stood a good head taller than your friend.

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood for lies, Lia,” the pack leader shook his head, “and I’m thinking that the scar tissue you’re probably hiding won’t protect you much. You took quite the bite some time ago.”

“It’s true,” Lia insisted, trying to get Rand’s attention onto her instead, “I can give you names, dates, everything–”

“Lia,” you barged in, finally getting Rand’s leering gaze off of Yuna as everyone looked at you, “you know that isn’t working. They’re going to find the journal even if none of us talk.”

“Oh, little one, you do care,” Rand meanly cooed as he stepped closer. “Tell me.”

You held your ground. “There’s a safe in the study.”

Jisung clenched onto your hand as he glanced sideways at you. He still tried to keep his chin up, but it wasn’t hard to imagine that he could perfectly recall just how much and how easily Rand worked him over the last time he got in the way. Lia, across the room, gave you a wary look. It was a bold lie, more bold than hers, but it was your only idea.

“A safe,” Rand repeated, clearly doubting you, “in the study.”

“Yeah,” you nodded as confidently as you could muster.

“And what,” Rand set his jaw firm as he took another step closer, “you just don’t care about protecting your friends anymore?”

“I do care,” you retorted, “even if they don’t seem to feel the same.”

Lia’s eyes were downcast when you looked past Rand’s shoulder, and you knew it was a low blow, but it needed to be done.

“Would you look at that,” Rand chuckled darkly, “looks like there’s some hurt feelings going around. Now come on. Everyone is going to patiently wait right here for you to show me.”

With this, the pack leader quickly snatched your shoulder and shoved you out of the dining room.

“Lead the way,” Rand commanded. You took one last look behind you at Jisung as you were pushed out to the foyer, sucked in a breath, and headed up the stairs. It felt as if nearly every step and floorboard creaked underfoot, almost begging you not to go into the study as you neared. You tried to leave the door ajar when you stepped inside, only for Rand to yank it closed. He stood between you and the way out now. You were alone with the pack leader.

“Go on,” Rand pushed, almost softly. Almost a request. You turned to face the study, with the stuffing still spilling out of the couch and the rug still rolled off to the side. The end table rattled when you pretended to bump into it by accident, trying to appear nervously clumsy as Rand paced behind you, now looking at the contents of the shelves and a writing desk by the door. You surreptitiously lifted Lia’s gun off the table as you steadied it and let out a shaky breath, trying to keep track of everything as you crossed the room to the far wall, where a painting of Lia and her grandmother hung. This was the tough part. You slipped the small revolver into the front of your jeans, the cool handle tingling against your lower abdomen as you lifted the heavy painting and set it on the floor in front of you. Hopefully, by standing right in front of where the picture had been hanging, Rand wouldn’t readily notice you were only facing a blank wall. Rand shuffled papers and pens on the writing desk behind you. If he was trying to distract you, it was almost working as you methodically withdrew the gun out of your jeans and surreptitiously clicked back the hammer. The metal felt damp in your hands.

A drawer slammed behind you.

You whipped around, your back flat against the wall as you heard a faint whistle and a sharp thud when you steadied the gun in front of you and fired.

Only once the ringing throughout the study dulled did you notice an old-fashioned letter opener stuck into the wall, right where you had previously been standing a moment before.

Rand stood beside the modest hole you blew into the door before he stalked across the room to corner you up against the wall.

“There’s a safe in the study, huh?” he grinned down at you, eyes wild.

“What are you going to do about it?” you stubbornly challenged.

“It’s not what I’m going to do, little one,” Rand calmly explained, “it’s what you’re going to do.”

You hardly got a chance to even think of a response when he snatched the gun out of your hand and grabbed your wrist. Rand shoved the gun into his jacket pocket, ignoring your struggling as he dragged you downstairs.

Once you’d reentered the dining room, the relieved gazes of Chan, Jisung, and all the girls told you that they’d been convinced that the gunshot they’d heard had been for you, but the relief didn’t last long as Rand grabbed you by the collar of your sweater and tossed you on top of the dining table. You scrambled to sit up and jump off the table before Rand’s cronies stepped up and shoved you back into place as Rand himself hopped up onto the table to take care of you himself.

“What do you even need the journals for,” you demanded, “you already know what’s in them.”

“I don’t have to tell you there’s plenty of gaps in the one journal I have in my possession,” Rand refuted as he grabbed onto your ankle and hauled you over so you were flat on your back, “all I know is the girl needs to be claimed for this to work.”

The way he said it was more of a threat.

The way everyone jumped at what Rand said made it more of a surety.

You thrashed and struggled under Rand as he worked at the sleeves of your jacket.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Get off of her!” Jisung hoarsely yelled as he leapt forward, only to be intercepted by a couple of Rand’s goons.

“What am I doing?” Rand thoughtfully repeated. “I’m looking at my options.” His eyes never left you, even as you desperately looked around as much as you could, looking for any way out possible. Chan was still trapped under a pile of two or three wolves holding fast onto him. Lia wavered with a restrained look of growing terror, still holding her arms out behind her to protect her girls. You could hear them exhaustedly sniffling and whimpering behind her.

Rand unceremoniously yanked your sweater off over your head and dropped it on top of your jacket, the cool of the room draping over your chest, protected only by your thin camisole, and only exacerbating how your fingers had turned to ice. The breath fell from your lips in broken heaves. This close, the wolf’s stench of rotten veal and kerosene was enough to make you retch. Rand reached now, his rough fingertips sliding over your throat and tipping your head to the side and all you could do was claw at his arm as his other hand trailed over the bite he originally left on you.

There was a hesitance in the room.

Your feet uselessly kicked at the table as Rand dove into you, his teeth piercing into your flesh to reclaim the chunk of skin he’d stolen from you all those short nights ago.

Just like last time, your own scream sounded miles away, and more like it belonged to some trapped, wild animal.

In the haze of adrenaline coursing through you, you worked past the searing pain in your shoulder to get an elbow against Rand’s and make his arm buckle enough to make him falter. You finally got a foot into his hip and stomped down and away from you, enough to make the tall wolf slide backwards and give you enough room to roll and lunge forward.

A small puddle of blood landed on the table under you as your palms pressed to the polished wood, and it almost made you pause, just how much of it there was already.

However, a grip on your ankle interrupted you, and you cried out as Rand reeled you back under him. His gaze bore into you as he simply knelt on your hands, pinning you under him and his dark, empty stare as he shucked off his heavy jacket.

“You’re running out of chances,” he said softly, only to you. His teeth were stained with your blood. “Has anyone told you that you smell like a fox? I catch it in the middle of the night, as if you’re as close as you are right now.”

“Fuck you!” you spat, trying with all the strength you could gather to try and reclaim your hands as Rand reached down and pulled a pocket knife out of his boot. He flicked it open and held the blade in his teeth. The wolf took his time as he rolled a sleeve of his flannel shirt up to the elbow. You sucked in a coarse breath and coughed into another furious yell, trying anything to get out from under him. Rand gently smiled. He was almost serene as he dragged the blade across his forearm. You wrenched your eyes shut.

The room collectively held its breath as the first drop of Rand’s blood landed on your shoulder, mixing into the viscera he’d exposed. However, you opened your eyes as you felt the most puzzling sensation – your shoulder went numb, if only for a moment. Rand was frozen over you, watching in abject confusion. You craned down to see as another drip from the wolf’s arm fell onto your shoulder… and slid right off. It almost leapt off, bubbling like oil on a hot pan. You noticed now how much you were shaking.

And then Rand laughed.

It was a roar of a laugh, an almost surprising sound from the slim man if his deep voice didn’t already plague your passing thoughts.

“Well,” Rand wheezed with a hearty shake of his head, “isn’t that something.”

He twisted at the waist to address the room.

“Already claimed.”

From what you could see on one side of the room, Chan paled, eyes wide at the announcement. Likewise, on the other side of the room, Jisung flushed, faltering away from the wolves who had been trying to keep him from approaching the table.

“Well,” Rand shrugged, “if I can’t claim her myself, it looks like I only have a limited set of options to get my missing journal – unless there’s any objections.” With this, he mockingly turned, first to Lia, then Jisung and Chan. It was at this moment you noticed the crushing weight on your left hand fade for a second, and you took your chance.

You yanked your hand out from under Rand’s knee the second you were able to, and once the man tried to pin you back down, you struggled enough to shove him over and free your other one. Rand grunted and gripped onto your throat again before he began to squeeze, but not before you reached a hand up and onto his own neck to try and keep the distance between you. The wolf snarled and pushed down closer, one hand clawing into your hair as he tried to get control again. His fierce gaze pierced into you as you fought, and that’s when you heard it again.

It felt like ages since you’d heard that small voice that pushed you to eviscerate Chan, but you knew plain and simply that that little voice could easily fade into your own thoughts. This time, though, it was loud and clear.

Do it, it murmured, teach him a lesson.

And just like last time, your obeying seemed automatic.

The next time Rand shoved deeper and closer towards you, you were the one to claw into his hair, holding fast to him as you made sure to free one hand.

“I have some objections,” you choked out, before you jammed your thumb into the man’s eye and twisted, grimacing at the uneasy feeling of something bursting and sliding against the digit.

Rand wailed, throwing his head back away from you and clutching onto his face.

“You little bitch,” Rand bellowed as you shoved your way out from under him, “you awful cunt!”

Your hands shook as you dug into Rand’s jacket and found the revolver, but you hardly had any time before the wolf grabbed onto you again. The gun flew out of your hands and clattered down to the far end of the table.

Everyone moved at once. You struggled to get out of Rand’s clutches, but a distinct gunshot rang out in the room. When you all paused, one wolf dropped, revealing Lia holding the revolver. Three shots left. She trained the gun’s muzzle on Rand now.

Rand fell backwards, fumbling off the table and into the kitchen.

“I don’t think I made myself clear,” he hoarsely yelled, “all I want is a cure. All I want is for it all to stop. I’m taking away one of your exits and you’re running out of choices. Now I’m going to get that journal.”

First, Rand flicked on the gas range of the stovetop.

“Well?” he challenged the room.

When no one answered, Rand grabbed a bottle of oil standing nearby on the counter, and smashed it onto the stovetop as he re-entered the dining room. The ensuing fireball made everyone jump, and again when Lia stepped forward, still pointing the gun right at him.

“You shouldn’t have left us any exits at all,” she grimly shook her head. “No one is killing me again, and no one is touching my family.”

The first wolf that lunged for her, Lia turned and ruthlessly shot the young man in the chest. Two shots left. The wolf fell with a whimper. Between this and the roaring blaze growing in the kitchen, the room quickly turned to chaos as the wolves decided there was, in fact, no honor among thieves.

As most of the wolves scrambled to make a run for it, a few actually stayed behind to tend to the pack leader. Meanwhile, Jisung had already sprung forward to grab your clothes and help you off the table. Chan was finally able to move as well, helping Lia herd the girls towards the foyer ahead of you as the fire began to spread into the dining room. Thinking fast, Chan grabbed the shotgun Lia kept tucked behind the umbrella stand. Jisung took a second to help drape your jacket back over your shoulders, foregoing your sweater because there was no way you’d get that on again at the moment. He refused to meet your gaze, even amidst all the mayhem.

It was miserably cold as you stepped out onto the front step, but it was a relief after the growing heat of the fire in Lia’s home. Lucy and Joanne helped steady you on your feet as Jisung rushed out towards the garage. Chan was fast to get everyone over to his van, which he must have moved out of the garage at some point. He pushed the keys into Lia’s hands before she crawled into the driver’s seat. Next he reached in and pulled out a duffel bag.

“What’s the plan? Where are we going?” Ryujin hurriedly asked him.

“No, where you’re going,” Chan corrected her as he helped Lucy into the van, “you may not be what he wants now, but we’ll be of no help to you if we know where you are. Don’t tell me where you’re going, just drive and don’t stop until you’re somewhere safe.”

Yuna leapt into the passenger seat and Chan quickly stood upright and got the girl’s attention. A low rumble could be heard behind you, even over the roaring fire growing inside the large estate as Jisung pulled up the car. Chan and Yuna shared an uneasy look as he pushed the shotgun into her hands. Jisung jumped out of the idling car and took over for Ryujin so she could climb into the van herself. He held you up, but he still didn't look at you.

“I’m sorry, Yuna,” Chan said earnestly. Yuna only shook her head and pushed the gun back towards him.

“I still have her, even if she’s gone,” Yuna grimly assured him, “and we have Lia. Just do something next time.”

The van finally groaned to life as Lia started it and she looked back to see you and Jisung.

“Darling,” she called over to you, “get in. Come with us.”

“I have to see this through,” you stubbornly grinned, despite every ounce of energy you had left draining out of you for the time being. Yuna finally used her leverage to keep pushing the gun into Chan’s hands until she could shut the passenger door, just as Ryujin and Lucy pulled the backdoor closed. That clawing desire to change your mind, just run and jump into the van and run away with Lia was beginning to stir too close to reality for your liking. Thankfully, though, Lia stomped on the gas and sped off, out of the driveway. You watched her tail lights trail down the winding path back out to the street before her headlights turned left.

Lia was gone.

You barely had a moment to regret this move before Jisung already began hurrying you back towards the car, but not before he grabbed Chan’s bag and threw it into the front seat. Chan froze, processing this de facto agreement for a moment. You couldn’t blame him, but he ran over to help you into the backseat nonetheless.

A click of a seatbelt reminded you to do yours, and even just working the nylon strap hurt like hell. The pain had dulled from just a few minutes before, but it was difficult to tell if it was because you were slowly healing, or if you were just numb to it for now. Jisung peeled out, down the driveway and down the trail up from the house, headlights still off and turning right down the road instead. You jumped as a pair of headlights streamed in through the rear windshield and Chan twisted around under his seatbelt in the front seat to see before you could. Your eyes grew wide as you could just make out the silhouette of a pickup truck racing down the road after you. The inferno behind you that was once Lia’s home billowed smoke into the fog covering the night.

“Holy shit,” Chan breathed, hands clutching the back of the front seat as well as the dashboard, “Jay, we have to fucking move.”

Jisung didn’t respond, only the car growling as he upshifted and leaned on the gas in response. He didn’t turn to look at either one of you, only gunning down the road faster and faster, still with no headlights. The car was likely invisible in the night, a terrifying thought between faint streetlights as the fog threatened to grow thicker.

“Jay,” Chan cautioned, “you have to pick one. Fast or dark. We have to be careful.”

Jisung’s hands were clawed in a tight grip on the steering wheel. “Careful? That's a good one, coming from you.”

“Hey,” Chan defended, “I know you’re mad but now isn’t the time–”

“Mad?!” Jisung scoffed with a shake of his head while the engine roared again.

You wanted to interfere, but it was already too late. Chan and Jisung were already slinging curses and venom at each other in the front seat, Chan trying to keep Jisung focusing on the road and Jisung more than furious at recent developments. What would you even say?

A light cut through the fog in front of you, interrupting all three of you as a train crossing sprang to life further down the road. The dull, yellow light turned red. A bell chimed.

And all three of you knew what was going to happen next.

“Jay,” you nervously pleaded, “slow down.”

The car rumbled out a determined growl as Jisung leaned harder on the gas before upshifting again. The lights of the train cut through the fog.

“We can lose them past the train,” Jisung assured you.

“If you do then would you please fucking slow down or turn on the fucking headlights?!” Chan barked, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of the seat even harder.

The train blasted its bellowing horn as it barreled down the tracks.

You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was to come… Until you felt the distinct bump of train tracks pass under the car.

Chan let out a strained sigh in the front seat, mirroring your own. You turned, relieved to see the long locomotive disappearing off into the woods. Past the train tracks, it would be almost an hour’s drive of countryside and farmland before the next major town.

Jisung finally snapped on the headlights.

“There,” he snapped, “happy?!”

“Yes,” Chan huffed, “now can you calm down and maybe we can talk about this later?”

“Talk?!” Jisung reeled.

“Guys,” you warily tried, far too late by now, “now really isn’t the time to–”

You shrieked out a gasp as you barely registered the deer that leapt out into the beam of the headlights.

“Jisung, look out!”

But it was too late for that, too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　 🦌　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was hard to tell how long you’d been out, if at all, but it hadn't been long. The train was still passing behind you, its pace much slower as it tackled the winding track up ahead. All you knew was that when your eyes finally creaked open, your head was full of cotton, your chest felt like it'd just caught the weight of a fired cannonball – and the road was above you.

The highway lined the top of your vision, and you dazedly came to the realization that you were dangling upside down in the backseat of Jisung's car, suspended only by your seatbelt. Your stomach lurched in a way that told you that you were leaning forward, not back, and this painted a clearer picture.

But then your senses were flooded with the smell of gasoline.

Your fingers frantically struggled with your seatbelt, the pain in your shoulder suddenly a moot point as you wrestled with the buckle before tumbling onto the roof of the car which was now underneath you. The car groaned as you twisted around, your hands searching wildly for your sweater and jacket while you tried to get enough leverage to kick out the back windshield. Whether it was from your injuries or the adrenaline overstimulating you, it took three attempts to get your boot through the glass. You flung your sweater onto the glass of the shattered windshield before you scrambled down onto your hands and knees to crawl out from under the wrecked car.

It was difficult to precisely assess the situation for a myriad of reasons once you steadied yourself back onto your feet. You shook out your sweater and forced it on over your bloodied and battered body, and followed that with your jacket, feeling as though you were only held together by your clothes now. Through the smoke, fog, and cover of night, you could just make out the mangled deer on the side of the highway. The nose of the flipped car was wedged into the right-hand guardrail at a brutal angle. From the cacophony ringing through your head, all you could gather was that Jisung must have swerved, overcorrected, and flipped the car before it slid to a screeching halt.

You shambled forward a couple steps alongside the guardrail when you spotted Chan in the car, gingerly trying to climb out of the passenger side window as he fought with his seatbelt. Unable to make it to the front of the car from here, you backtracked around to the other side to help Jisung.

Only to find that he wasn't there.

When you ducked down to try and figure out how to free him, Jisung was nowhere to be seen in the driver's seat. Instead, there was just a crushed, empty frame where the windshield once stood.

You bolted upright now, searching like mad to hopefully see Jisung already having gotten loose and out of the car but finding no such thing. The air in your lungs felt like knives raking through your chest but you forced yourself to take as deep a breath as you could, trying anything but whining out a pathetic curse when you realized the deer you were smelling was the dead buck on the side of the highway. You looked in every possible direction for any sign of him, before the one working headlight illuminated something maybe thirty feet further down the guardrail.

A heap.

A body.

Another dead animal.

No.

Jisung.

A feeble whimper stayed locked in your throat as you stumbled along the guardrail, precariously lining the top of a wooded bank looking out over some farmland, wanting to stop while simultaneously wanting to run every second along the way as you neared.

It wasn’t Jisung.

He was back in the car.

You just didn't see him.

But you didn’t believe yourself, as much as you wanted to before you finally followed that goddamn beam like a cursed spotlight right to the end.

This was Jisung, a brutalized mess of himself lying in a heap on the side of the highway.

A stranger in a cafe.

A lover in your bed.

Blood on your hands.

You did this.

Your legs went boneless as you fell beside Jisung on the highway and pulled him into your arms.

First, you asked.

“Jisung, can you hear me?”

Then, you ordered.

“Jisung, answer me!”

And then you begged.

“Jay,” you persisted, “please answer me. I'm so sorry, I’m so so sorry. Give me anything, just let me know you’re here–”

The second a shallow breath withered over Jisung’s lips and proved he was still alive, you shuddered out a pained whisper of a cry, your chest threatening to tear open at any moment. This wasn’t fair.

But you brought him into this anyway.

You handled him like he were made of glass, grimacing at the feel of his bones coarsely fighting any position he was in as you tried to assess this, almost like you could find a glimmer of hope despite how fucking godforsaken this was.

Even though there’s one way.

Bile crawled in your stomach at the thought, but this was all you had. Jisung couldn't go like this, not when you should've never brought him into this in the first place.

You wildly looked back down the highway and back at the car, hoping to find any other answer. Behind you, Chan had finally freed himself of the car and seemed to be looking for that bag of his. You were on the verge of retching through your tears as you pulled at your sleeves to free up your wrist before you grabbed Jisung’s. His hand was cold and limp in yours, but his heaving chest told you he was still holding on. You struggled with the sleeve of his jacket, disgusted with yourself when your fingers couldn’t function right, whether for the cold of the night or the desperation fueling you. The skin of Jisung’s wrist in your grip was unblemished, the contrast of his veins mocking every fiber of your being.

“I’m so sorry, Jisung,” you pitifully repeated. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you. This is so fucking unfair. I’m so sorry.”

Lia had once explained how this worked when you first met, back when you told her you had no recollection of what happened to you. A bite was a bite, but a vampire’s blood was poison to humans. That’s why it needed to be a transfusion of sorts. Werewolves were apparently a different story, considering both Rand and Chan were still alive after mauling you. In a perfect world, where you could’ve taken the time to have this conversation with Jisung and possibly choose this together, you could’ve done it right. Made a whole night of it. Bitten each other in the throes of passion.

Instead, Jisung was going to end up like you.

If this even worked.

A whoosh and a roar of fire made you jump, and you turned to see Chan back at the car, lighter in hand and apparently destroying the evidence of your survival before the train would soon pass completely. Time was running out.

You freed up your wrist, your own faded scar of teeth marks remaining as the only hint of what happened to you. Jisung faintly stirred as you finally raked your teeth over your wrist. Considering how drained you were, you should’ve paid more attention to how little you’d been able to recover instead of berating yourself for the small stream of crimson running down your arm. Now you grabbed Jisung again, delicately holding his wrist up and biting into it as gently as you could manage. Your canines had only minimally extended, making it difficult to get any depth, but you got just enough to drink. You raised your wrist to Jisung’s lips, but you felt nothing but him unconsciously gurgle against your arm. Doubts still rushed through your mind as you quickly pried Jisung’s lips open only to see chipped teeth and a mouth full of blood.

“Fuck, Jisung–” you gasped. You frantically tipped him in your arms enough to thump him on the back, somewhat relieved to see him cough and sputter enough of his own blood out before you gingerly tried to clear his airway of his broken teeth. Jisung breathed a little easier now, but just to be sure you carefully pinched his nose as you lifted your wrist to his lips again. You waited, desperately praying and feeling the smallest bit soothed when you finally felt Jisung swallow, and you released him so you could hurry and drink him as well.

You don’t know what you expected as you ultimately relinquished Jisung’s arm. It’s not like you’d ever done this before, and Jisung was perfectly alive only minutes before this. You waited, staring – hoping, but doubting, and yet still hoping – that he would wake up and look at you.

“Jay,” you brokenly called to him, “Jay, come on. I didn’t want this–”

“Hey,” a voice startled you, “have you seen Jisung?”

Chan.

“I don’t know if we’re sticking together,” he continued as he approached, “but if we are, we have to get going– oh fuck.”

Chan dropped down beside you, setting the shotgun and his bag down. He got a good look at you, at the blood on your lips as well as Jisung’s.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you babbled uselessly, “I don’t even know if it’s going to work, I just didn’t want to lose him like this–”

“–Hey,” Chan sternly stopped you, “be here with me. Is he alive?”

“I think so,” you pathetically cried, “I have no idea for how long but I don’t know what else to do and–”

Chan froze as you fully broke down now, gasping and crying down into your chest.

A hand on your shoulder made you pause, and you choked on another sob before you looked to see that Chan had shifted so he was now kneeling in front of you. One hand was on your shoulder, his other on Jisung’s. His gaze pierced through the manic haze in your mind.

“Baby girl,” he earnestly called out to you, “I know this is hard, but we’re out of time. I’ll do anything you want as long as we leave right this second.”

You stopped, a ghost in your own skin as you nodded, disoriented, when you finally turned to look back the way you came. The last train car was going to pass by any moment now. You looked back at Chan.

“Help me with Jisung,” you weakly ordered.

Chan firmly nodded, pushing his bag and the shotgun towards you before he gently lifted Jisung out of your arms to drape him over his shoulders. He pointed down the bank beside you. Off in the distance, a light was on in a farmhouse. “We don’t have long,” he grunted as he adjusted under Jisung’s weight, “but it’s my only good idea right now. Where there’s a farm, there’s a barn.”

You could only think to nod in response as you shouldered Chan’s bag and got a grip on the shotgun before you hopped over the guardrail and started jogging down the bank. With Chan carrying Jisung, you could focus on simply running and surviving this as you heard the clanging chime of the train crossing back down the highway. Down here, below the fog, it was easier to look for backup plans. A second farmhouse revealed itself beyond the thick and tall tree line, this one much older and dilapidated at this end of the fields. You looked back at Chan, who nodded in agreement as he kept up with you.

A screeching of tires back above you, however, made you both stop in your tracks. You fell back into the trees, with Chan following suit and sitting silent.

“They fucking ate it,” one of Rand’s cronies remarked, likely surveying the burning car.

“Anyone see anything?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Fine, anyone catching a scent?”

“Fat chance. All I smell is gas and fire.”

“Fair enough. Let’s comb the highway a ways before we head back. They couldn’t have gotten far if anyone survived. Rand will be pissed if we just say they were toasted with the car and he finds out we didn’t look.”

The two of you waited, holding your breath until you heard the rumble of an engine fade down the road before you made a break for the old farmhouse. The door rattled, stuck in the jamb for a moment before you wrenched the knob over and forced it open. The air of the old house was stale, and Chan reached into the bag on your shoulder to draw out a flashlight.

You followed the sweep of the flashlight, surveying the room to find that it was oddly clean given the age of the furniture. The hair on the back of your neck rose as you went to shut the door and saw the first hints of daylight outside. You turned to see Chan cross behind you as you stepped back into the main room, following him to watch as he found a bedroom, still with a bed inside. Chan laid Jisung down on the creaking mattress. You dropped the bag and shotgun at the door as you rushed over to Jisung’s side now. By this point, Jisung had paled and broken out into a miserable sweat, perspiration beading at his brow. Whether this somehow worked or he was in even worse shape now, you had no idea, but you quickly scratched your teeth at your healing wrist to try and get more blood into him. If, by some goddamn miracle, this worked, then Jisung would need more blood, but it was hard to tell exactly how much when he was out cold like this. If you overfed him he’d be as good as dead -- if he wasn’t already -- that much was certain, but it felt critical to try some more right at the start. This would be easier if he were awake.

“You don’t need to push yourself,” Chan tried to console you with a hand on your shoulder. You briskly shrugged him off as you swiped what you could of your blood onto Jisung’s lips. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” you coldly snapped. “Just leave us alone.”

“You don’t have to do this alone–” he tried to reason with you, stopping as soon as you turned back to glare at him.

“You already claimed me!” you rebuked. “You’re not going to lose me if I’m out of your sight. Just leave us the fuck alone.”

Chan paused, jaw set stern as though he were in the middle of wanting to say something before he simply relented. He placed the flashlight on the bed before he scooped up the shotgun along with his bag and wordlessly left. You shut the door, savoring this one moment of controlling your surroundings.

Judging by the footsteps outside, Chan surveyed upstairs next, before assumedly finding another room above yours. Another mattress whined through its springs resettling on its frame, and you helped yourself to sit beside Jisung, drawing your knees up to your chest and hugging onto them. You watched as the sun threatened to rise, and now you were plagued with those first two dawns with Jisung back when you’d first met. First, the night where you hid out in the bait store. Next, after the night you spent together in Shepherd’s shop.

When he’d met Chan.

You’d never experienced dawn with someone before since you’d turned, and now you’d experienced it multiple times with Jisung.

The sky was beautiful as it went from black to azure and only got brighter from there, but you couldn’t force yourself to sleep. Instead, you only watched, still hugging onto yourself until sleep took you by force.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　📕　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next night woke you ruthlessly as you found that you must’ve rollen off the bed while you were out. You groaned and got up from where you were laying flat on the floor, cracking your back and watching the last wisps of orange and purple bleed out into the night sky when you noticed something on your wrist. Grabbing the flashlight off the bed, you clicked it on for a moment to see that you were right in your developing suspicion. No matter how many times it changed hands, Chan’s handkerchief from that first night was holding a bundle of gauze to your wrist. You leaned in closer. Sure enough, the scent of veal and bonfires on the beach made you wrinkle your nose. You worked the knot on the fabric loose and checked underneath, relieved to see that your bites from the previous night had already healed over, the skin smoothed back out to still look like your faded scar. Feeling your shoulder now, it was wrapped up with what felt like actual bandages, but you grimaced as you noticed you were wearing Chan’s flannel over your camisole instead of your sweater. You flung Chan’s handkerchief uselessly onto the bed. Solely for the sake of morbid curiosity, you dipped your fingers under the collar of Chan’s shirt you were wearing, up to your other shoulder.

You paused, trying to understand what this feeling was. Under your fingertips was the raised, gnarled skin comprising the bite Chan gnawed into you back under the full moon. It didn’t go away. It didn’t heal. Unlike the pack leader’s bite still left on you, which just felt like ruined skin, this scar emanated a disquieting heat. You really were claimed, you supposed. It would’ve been comforting to be able to ask Lia. The only problem was Lia was gone now, and you only had ideas as to where. You felt both bites again. Recalling Rand’s roaring laugh made your skin crawl.

Maybe this feeling was heartbreak.

Maybe you were mourning something without really understanding what exactly it was, just like the night you woke up craving blood.

Maybe this was anger.

You glanced at Jisung, lying limp on the bed.

Blood dotted Jisung’s lips. You weren’t sure where it came from, but you didn’t want to seek out an answer. Everything hurt too much.

Now it was only guilt. Searing guilt floating in a void inside you.

You saw the den and you walked inside nonetheless, that awful little voice chided you.

Now all that burned through you was restlessness. You couldn’t let yourself sit here and wait for it to magically work itself out, and you couldn’t do nothing until it was solved. Despite everything, the fact of the matter was you were being held together and kept warm. Jisung looked patched up as well, and even covered in a blanket.

You sat on the bed once more and looked him over. Jisung was no longer clammy but he was still pale, no longer sweating but still cool to the touch. You still had no idea if this was working, but focusing on that for too long made you feel ill. Jisung’s jacket distracted you instead, folded beside you where you wanted to slide closer to further inspect him, but you inspected this now as you realized how chilly it was in the room. You unfolded Jisung’s jacket, engrossed in the rips and scuffs and more sickening stains before you reluctantly slipped it on and raised an eyebrow as your hand hit something when you went to slide it in one of the pockets. As you drew your hand back out, you found yourself holding one of the two damned journals.

Of course Jisung had it.

Of course he didn’t say anything.

The thought of Lia also knowing this and neither of them telling you nagged at you, but you didn’t want to focus on this either. You looked for any distraction, not wanting to think about everything everyone refused to tell you, not wanting to think about how you likely killed Jisung and now you were just waiting for him to die, not wanting to think about where Chan was, even though you asked him to leave you alone and he was clearly here at some point during the day.

You reluctantly were brought to the journal in your hands once again. Trepidation and curiosity consumed you, but even as you cautiously pried open the journal and peered inside, you could only stand to read passages at a time, skipping chunks of pages as needed, forward and back since it apparently didn’t matter because the two journals had been mixed together.

It was difficult, learning more about the monster that started all of this. The last thing you wanted was to feel sorry for him.

Shepherd had a wife, back before he was ever turned.

One night, there was a scream outside, and Shepherd awoke to find an empty spot where his wife normally slept.

When he got outside, a wolf was standing over her body.

And in his grief, Shepherd lost himself in wine and gambling and brothels, anything to make up for the emptiness, until one night he woke up in an alleyway as a whole new man.

Nights passed like this, minutes feeling like hours and your time in this room feeling like an eternity that you were drifting through.

You would wake up.

Jisung would look no better than before.

Shepherd wrote that Lia was the most magnificent, most promising young woman he’d ever met since his late wife.

Jisung wouldn’t respond no matter how you tried to get him to.

You eventually couldn’t bring yourself to touch Jisung at all.

You would listen to Chan’s footsteps, spy him outside the window apparently securing a perimeter around the farmhouse.

Lia was right, you’d find out. Shepherd already found the pack before Minho ever came to work for him. However, the old man never expected his ingenue to fall for him. Minho’s pack leader was the one to tell him about Shepherd’s store, and even though he never told him to get a job there, you were stunned that the young wolf never made that connection.

Maybe not doing anything was simply an unfortunate side effect when it came to your species mingling.

You would watch Chan outside, trying to get his phone to work out here when you couldn’t stand reading or trying to get Jisung to prove you didn’t kill him.

The final straw in your reading was finding the page where Shepherd left Lia for dead.

The only two women I’ve ever loved are gone. Selma is gone because I was naïve, but my dear Jules is gone because she was. My heart is broken, but no longer because of her betrayal, but because of her sacrifice. With any luck, there will come a day where no one suffers like this again. The wolves are scum, they’re rabid lowlifes, but they want this, too. That tells me all I need to know.

You snapped the book shut, on the verge of feeling ill. It felt as though you’d been trapped in this room for months, a wretched purgatory where you could finally learn everything you’d made such a fuss over. You were disgusted with the heartache you felt, not wanting whatsoever to acknowledge however righteous Shepherd may have felt at any point in his life. However, you’d apparently gotten so engrossed, starting and stopping and starting and stopping for yet another night, that it was almost sunrise again by the time you’d had enough. This was night four... Maybe it was night three.

The way time moved while you tried to process all this was unsettling. You clicked the flashlight off and lay next to Jisung, waiting for sunrise to capture you again. He was so peaceful like this, that you could almost pretend Jisung was perfectly fine despite the fact that you had to reconcile with how he was hardly breathing. There was blood streaked across his bottom lip again.

Thankfully, the sound of a door in the back of the house caught your attention. Your ears perked at Chan’s voice.

“Okay, that’s better. Changbin, can you hear me now? I have no fucking service out here and I’m running low on battery, man, it’s looking super grim... Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Could be better… No, I have no clue where they are by now, but they’re not here and that’s fine by me.”

You could actually close your eyes, getting a chance to relax again and focus solely on Chan’s voice as he talked to who you assumed to be his contact for his investigation. He could be heard, pacing the small space where he found a signal.

“Yeah, I got in with the parents at the main farmhouse. They put me up with some supplies after I showed them the badge and explained everything, I just had to promise to stay out here. Just have to hope they don’t make any phone calls, who knows what the hell anyone else would say if you weren’t there to take it… Exactly. You should see it, man. Absolute edge of the property, perfect condition aside from no power and no water. The wife said it was her great-grandma’s or something, and– Oh. Her? Yeah. She’s fine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　🚬　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep when you woke up again the next evening. In the dying sunlight, you were startled to notice the few flecks of blood on Jisung’s lip had changed, sitting up at the jarring revelation. It’s not like you were the one wiping his mouth clean every night; you still were too afraid to touch him and confirm that you killed him. The blood on Jisung’s lip changed every night. Your only positive hope was that Chan was tending to him.

Maybe this was a good thing, you dismally wondered. You further inspected him, looking desperately for any positive change and finding none. His breath, what little there was left, rasped out of him and none of the color had returned to his cheeks.

I’m not sure why you’re surprised.

A few stray tears threatened to form at the corners of your eyes and you flinched, trying to avoid them the best you could and distract yourself some more. You considered trying to look through the journal once more when you took notice of a pile of neatly folded blankets at the foot of the bed – quilts, apparently, as you grabbed at the topmost one and got a better look. The fabric was cool and lived in, and you leaned in to smell the bedspread. It was refreshing to find the scent of a closet, of evidence that the quilt was once appreciated and loved at some point, enough to keep it stored even though it wasn’t being used anymore. You spread out the quilt and added it to the thinner blanket draped over Jisung before you reflexively kissed his brow, something you’d begun doing when you would wrap him up at the early hours of the morning when he couldn’t stay up with you anymore. The practiced ease of the motion caught you off guard when your lips met Jisung’s cold temple, and now you couldn’t even take reprieve in this moment, either. The first sniffle out of you made you nauseous, and you stubbornly snatched the two other blankets, bundling up in one before you grabbed the flashlight and went looking.

What exactly you were looking for, you weren’t sure, but you found yourself ascending the stairs. Empty spots remained on the wallpaper where picture frames once hung, but the house was remarkably sturdy given its apparent age. All the doors on the upper floor were closed except one, and you peered inside. Just Chan’s open bag sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed gave you the confirmation that this was where he’d set up camp. A camping lantern sat in the corner with a neat stack of files, along with a few other supplies – but no Chan. You peeked out the window in the room facing the front of the house, trying to see anything but only catching sight of the farmhouse off in the distance, and the roof of the porch below you.

The house creaked and groaned as you walked back downstairs, almost as if it were questioning you as you came back down and opened the front door. There was Chan, seated on the top step of the porch with the shotgun sitting beside him under the light of the gibbous moon waning overhead. You were silent as you approached, but your footfalls surely gave you away nonetheless before you slowly sat down on the other side of him. From this new vantage point, you could see Chan was only wearing his hoodie over his flimsy t-shirt. You both were silent, just feeling each other’s presence for a moment before you ever tried to say anything.

“What’s with the shirt?” you casually asked, surprised to find your voice a little hoarse from not talking.

“The shirt?” Chan repeated. At first you thought it was only his breath in the night air you were seeing before you noticed the glow of a dying cigarette in his hand. Chan fastidiously rubbed the ash into the porch and lit a new one. His eyebrows jumped as he finally recalled. “Oh, that. That was day one; you weren’t there for that. The pack came back, which I pretty much expected. The first thing I did when I got here was borrow a bag of fertilizer to line the perimeter of the house while we wait for my partner to get a chance to come out here. I saw them pull up to the main house and I barely had enough time to stow you in the cellar – There’s a cellar, by the way. Don’t know how much you’ve explored. Anyway, by the time they were done sniffing around and I could put you back in your room, you were a mess. I took a second to clean you up when I finally had a second to patch up both of you. Hope you don’t mind.”

“What did you do about Jisung during all that?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but his smell is gone. He usually smells like – what, I think I landed on elk?”

“Deer,” you clarified, dispirited.

“Ah,” Chan thoughtfully nodded, still hardly looking at you, “that makes sense. It’s the flowers that threw me off. I don’t know what those are, either.”

“Buttercup,” you bleakly supplied.

“Mm,” Chan awkwardly nodded again. This was honestly awful. You could go back in the house, but for what? “Well, like I said,” Chan began again, almost insisting on talking now, “Jisung’s scent is gone. It’s really weird, but it made me feel better about just body-bagging him in a blanket and covering the windows.”

The air was pretty much punched out of your chest by now. Chan didn’t seem to notice what god-awful phrasing that was until his ears suddenly rouged, his eyes widening a bit in realization. This entire choice was such a terrible venture, but something kept you out here. It had to be the way Chan looked so thoroughly miserable as well. He exhaled more thoroughly and past the smoke, you could see that it was that and his breath that formed the faint cloud dissipating into the night. It was cold. Both of you were upset. You silently held out the other blanket bundled in your arms.

Chan half-grinned politely before waving a hand in refusal before self-consciously pulling his hand back. The air between you was chilled. Awkward. Stilted.

“No beer?” you finally began, as lightly as you could offer.

“Afraid not,” he said with a shake of his head. A small smile finally cracked through him as he propped his arms up on his knees. “Have to rely on old vices instead.”

You questioned it as you did it, but you darted a hand forward to half-heartedly flick the cigarette out. He ducked your hand and let out a spiteful puff. “It’s a nasty habit,” you remarked. The two of you met eyes for only a moment before he quickly looked away.

“I can handle it,” Chan smirked before he fished his pack out of his pocket. He popped it open and held it out to you.

“After I just said it’s gross?” you laughed.

“You already technically died,” Chan coolly teased. “Just seeing if you’re curious.”

Curiosity is what got us into this in the first place.

For once, you thoroughly disagreed with this unwanted roommate in your head. You looked at the pack of cigarettes, half empty and one seeming to be a shade darker than the rest from what you could tell in the moonlight. Chan jerked the pack back as you reached for the odd cigarette.

“I should’ve explained,” he laughed apologetically, “not that one.”

You then reached for the cigarette between his lips instead, making him jump into an amused snicker as you tentatively puffed it. The smoke bloomed in your lungs and you hacked up a disgusted cough before you thrust it back at him.

“No?” Chan chuckled as he took the cigarette back.

“No,” you adamantly repeated with a shake of your head. “I’m surprised you even need vices,” you mused when you got your breath back, “I figured you just sit and look at the moon all the time.”

“It helps me think; you get creative when you have no one to talk to,” Chan defended, still with that same easy smirk that drew you in the first time, but before he sheepishly clammed up as he realized what exactly he said.

You took a moment to ruminate on what that small voice warned of. It really was about curiosity with Chan all the time, wasn’t it.

“Where’s your family?”

Chan wasn’t looking anywhere near you again, now looking out at the fields stretched out in front of the both of you.

What happened to not caring?

“I’m just wondering,” you persisted, trying to soothe any pressure. You could be convincing him, yourself, or the little voice in your head, all options were practically the same. “Felix told me you didn’t have anyone... But in your story about the fox, you told me about your grandparents.”

Chan let out a breath that was more sigh than smoke. Maybe he was realizing he’d shared more than he wanted to. Maybe you were too far into each other.

“I wasn’t always alone, obviously,” he explained with a noncommittal shrug. “My mom ran away when I was little, at least according to my dad. So it was just him, me, and my older sister. And he was such a piece of shit about it, of course. He tried to tell me that my mom abandoned us because of me specifically, that I was the final straw and she hated me, but he was good because he loved me. I found a box of letters one day, and they were all from her, to both me and my sister. But my sister was done. I don’t even remember what my mom looks like, but I knew my sister hated her for leaving. She worked two jobs even when she was still in high school, and she dropped out when she was turned.”

You sat up more, drawn in by the story much more than you expected. “So she was…”

“A wolf, too. I know it’s weird. You never hear about female wolves because they’re either hidden by their packs or they simply don’t last long. It’s bullshit and I hate it.”

“But I’m glad you had someone to share it with.”

Chan shook his head. “We didn’t get a chance. My dad was livid when he found out. I only found out because he was yelling and breaking shit, threatening to throw her out.”

“That’s awful,” you said with a concerned frown.

“It was cruel,” Chan corrected, “she was only 17. She grew up way too fast, thinking back on it. But she calmed him down like he was a child, and promised him she’d leave when she turned 18. She said she wouldn’t report him to anyone for how he treated her. She told him she wouldn’t make anyone take me away, even though she and I both knew that was a lie. She turned me, not long after that. She told me that this was important, that I had to be able to protect myself and both of us if needed. The moment she was able to go, she’d bring me, too. I think he just hated how independent she was. She was super clever, too. She was too good for him or anyone.”

“What happened to her?” you asked, uneasy about the possible answers already.

Chan sighed. “She got sick. Not super sick, but it was relentless enough that no amount of healing would help her. She would just lay in bed for days at a time until both her jobs fired her and the truancy officer would check on her. Dad would just say he was taking care of it.”

“But?”

“But,” Chan continued, eyes downcast, “that’s when I caught him. He was putting something in her cigarettes. So I told her, because I knew she’d have a plan… but she didn’t. She just confronted him instead, even though she was so fucking sick. I don’t know how else to put it, so I’ll just say it. She’s dead. I didn’t do enough to stop it. I didn’t do anything.”

“You were a kid,” you gently admonished him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chan stubbornly shrugged, “she gave me my wolf so I could protect both of us, and I didn’t do that. My dad made a run for it, and the cops never found him. They just took me to live with my grandmother and granddad. They passed, not long after I joined the academy. So that’s where my family is.”

Chan’s cigarette was almost dead. The silence that drifted down over you both was suffocating, like a cloud of ash. Chan looked so far off in his own thoughts that you only felt helpless as you watched him, and the restlessness that caused made you feel uncomfortable.

But why do you care?

You reached forward and snatched the cigarette from Chan’s lips again, startling him. He watched as you choked on the dying puff before you stubbed it out on the porch. You tried offering him the blanket once more. Chan politely shook his head again.

“I can see your breath,” you insisted.

Chan let up a smirk and reached his dominant arm over to you. “No, really, I'm fine. The nice thing about my little condition is I'm my own personal space heater. Seriously, feel.”

You glanced down at Chan’s arm offered to you. The sleeve of his hoodie had ridden up to reveal his wrist wrapped up in his handkerchief, like yours had been the other night. Chan must've noticed you considering this, given how he suddenly looked caught. It was astounding how different he was when he wasn't so consumed or visibly stressed.

Chan almost looked relieved when you finally gave in and put your hand on his arm.

Maybe you’d simply never focused on it before or even appreciated it, but Chan really was eerily warm. He would've seemed feverish if he wasn't perfectly fine. Thinking back, you surely must have noticed it before, somewhere along the way, but apparently never really given that any thought. Chan was the warmest person you'd ever met, and the poetry of that gave you a grossly endeared feeling in your chest, making you feel vulnerable in an almost queasy way. This was turning out to be just what that stupid little voice was warning you about. You didn’t belong to each other like Chan’s wolf told him. You didn’t care about Chan, just like that cursed little voice insisted. You were just stuck together.

And you were almost ready to excuse yourself to go back inside when you noticed Chan was looking at you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, soft in his voice yet firm in his tone.

“About what?” you questioned half-heartedly as you pulled your hand off his arm now.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Neither of us did,” you indignantly shrugged. Now it was your turn to fold your arms, turning so you could prop them up on your knees as you sat together on the porch steps. “Neither of us meant for it to happen, and neither of us did anything to stop it.”

“Right,” Chan let out a broken laugh, “but now you’re claimed. That’s that. I claimed you because I lost my fucking mind over you and I don’t even know anything about you, nothing except I like the guy you’re in love with, and he’s currently lying at Death’s door in that fucking house.”

Ouch. You stiffened your lip before you rolled your eyes with a hard sigh. “Don’t be so dramatic,” you scolded with a shake of your head. “You know what bar I go to. You know I work with old books. You know I’m a leech, and you know that sometimes I take trips to my aunt’s house.”

“Fine,” he relented with an agitated nod, “that’s an amount, but hardly any reason to be okay with anything this serious.”

“It’s about as much as I know about you,” you retorted.

“Would you stop trying to downplay this?” Chan discounted you. He held up a hand and got ready to count. “What, so you know I’m a cop – for now, at least. You know about the wolf. You know my whole sad-sack tragic backstory now.”

“Just about even,” you egged him on.

Chan sighed. “I have a real name. Did you figure that out yet?”

“I assumed,” you waved him off, “but you’ll always be Chan to me anyway.”

You weren't prepared when you caught Chan straightening up out of the corner of your eye. “You know I wanted to know you more the moment you looked at me in the bar.”

This was far less of a volley back at you. This sounded like an admission, and one you weren’t expecting or maybe even wanting. You let it slide off you as much as you could manage.

“So what,” you countered, talking to your knees, “that’s why you asked if I wanted to talk somewhere more private after that second beer? So you could get to know me more?”

“Would you quit?” Chan whined – half joking, half browbeaten. “It was all on the agenda. I keep thinking about it, how different everything could’ve been if I didn’t go out with the guys that night. I could’ve just made a shitty excuse to stay behind, abandon my post for once. The department abandoned me, after all. I could’ve just been with you instead. That’s what I keep thinking about, if I could have just done this right with you. I mean, you did try to bite me behind the bar, but I was already such a goner that I would’ve just taken it as a challenge.”

You must’ve been giving quite the reaction for Chan to clam up like he did, biting down his energy to face forward again. It was mystifying, how different this Chan really seemed. The wolf back on the porch of your aunt’s house had been manic, rude and pushy. Back in the boiler room he was scared and desperate, and back in the clearing he’d been totally overcome. This Chan was thoughtful, mature, and still in good enough spirits despite all of the bullshit surrounding both of you – everything that attracted you that first night at the bar and more. His messy curls, his cute nose, the dimple in his cheek. He was handsome and charming, and this was as much bad news as ever. You didn’t care, you reminded yourself.

Even though Chan was a little amazing, once everything slowed down.

“But, as much as I think about doing it over again, doing it all the right way,” Chan apprehensively began again, catching you unawares once more, “I also can’t help but wonder if I’d ever see you like this. That other life, that other me, he would’ve never been able to see you so… I don’t know how to explain it. You’re raw. You’re open. You’re a fucking mess, don’t get me wrong, you’re stubborn as a mule and sometimes you’re looking out for yourself to the point of being self-centered, but you’re too good for anyone, I swear. And you’re so fucking strong, especially lately. I shouldn’t have told you I love you, not like that, but I really do admire the hell out of you.”

You didn’t realize that you were leaning away as you were gawking at him until you nearly toppled over. This was more than a little overwhelming, hearing Chan put it out in the open so plainly. However, once he noticed how perturbed you appeared to be by this, he was right back to shying away from you. He fidgeted, almost like he was considering his options when he reached for his pack sitting between the two of you.

That’s when he noticed you were still looking at him, only you weren't leaning away anymore. Instead, you were sitting up straight, trying hard not to keep looking for distractions.

But what if this is a distraction, too?

You shivered the voice out. Chan shifted his knees over to face you more, and you humored this. Searching for just another hit of comfort, you gently set your hand on his.

But then Chan leaned in closer.

You remained steady, trying not to influence him too much in your reactions, and he only leaned in more. He was testing the waters.

And you warily responded, leaning closer yourself. Chan raised his other hand, his fingertips incredibly warm in the chilled night as they met your cheek.

Even while you recalled how he raked his fingers into your hair that night in the clearing.

When he claimed you.

But this wasn’t the same man, somehow. Chan was cautious, almost bashful when he finally met you the rest of the way and carefully pressed his lips to yours.

The sigh you let out was relieving a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, and the rush of smooth heat that spread through your chest could’ve knocked you out, it caught you so off guard. As you leaned back again, only a bit, you were surprised to find Chan’s cheeks had flushed. It was all too tempting, something good to fall into for a minute and it didn't take long for this to feel familiar. There it all was again, the way you gasped as Chan leaned into you more, the way he furrowed his brow as he kissed you like he was concentrating on savoring every second. Chan groaned with satisfaction when he finally got his arms around you, and again when you followed his pull. It seemed he was already incredibly content with this development. Maybe he'd assumed you'd shut him out.

Another gasp fell over your lips as Chan used your embrace to swiftly pull you onto his lap. The shared warmth between you electrified you, emboldening you to wrap your arms around Chan in return as you heatedly kissed each other. And really, it felt like maybe Chan needed this, too, with the way that his fingertips pressed into your back and dragged down along your spine to hold you close. You gasped and sighed hot into one another, falling headlong into each other like you always somehow managed to until Chan pushed you a little more. His palms sliding strong under your thighs, he hoisted you up against him once more and rolled you both over, taking a second to be gentle as he laid you under him on the porch. You could feel the cool hardwood through the quilt and your clothes. Chan’s lips were warm on your skin, absently trailing over your jaw and down your throat, down even lower until he nudged the hem of his flannel up to place a modest kiss low on your abdomen. Your hands drifted down to hold his where they clutched onto your hips, gasping as he kissed and breathed you in while he tempted closer to the button on your jeans.

“Chan…” you quietly urged, his name hushed like you were afraid you’d bring yourself to your senses any second now. Chan paused at this, but he pushed himself along to continue kissing and nipping at your skin. His handkerchief bandaging his wrist slid under your fingertips and you sucked in a breath as Chan finally worked the button open–

–Until he abruptly stopped, gasping into a cough as he quickly sat up on his knees where he was kneeling on the porch step.

“Chan–?” you worriedly asked, sitting up on your elbows.

“I’m sorry,” Chan suddenly shook his head, fretting as he suddenly got up to his feet, “this is – I mean, you’re not – I’m not –”

“Not what?” you implored him, concerned and convinced you did something.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Chan repeated with another shake of his head, and with that he grabbed the shotgun from where it was still laying and rushed into the house.

You sat up now, facing the empty doorway and frankly stunned. The dominating emotion was difficult to parse out. For how much Chan said he liked that you were open, you decided to be vulnerable for a minute and he choked on it. He flat-out bailed, leaving you flayed open and hung out to dry. And for once, this wasn’t bloodlust or carrying some other motivation. Whatever this was, you felt foolish for believing it could’ve been the two of you mutually reaching out for each other. Whatever Chan was hung up on, it stung.

Chan’s cigarettes sat forgotten on the porch. You grabbed these and got up to your feet, wrapping yourself back up in the quilt before you stormed inside. The doorknob to the room you’d been sharing with Jisung was freezing under your fingertips. You heaved out a defeated sigh, when you heard a puzzling creaking overhead.

Chan’s room.

According to his footsteps, he paced his room, opened the bedroom door, closed it again, paced again, and finally stopped. The agitated squeak of old bed springs upstairs punctuated the silent deliberation.

You snatched your hand away from the doorknob, determined as you marched upstairs. The staircase groaned and settled underfoot, all but protesting your ascent. Every step up was another adamant denial. The door to Chan’s room was indeed closed at the end of the hall and you approached more calmly now, not wanting to rile either of you up more than you already were. This was you reaching out, and he’d deny it properly this time if he wanted.

Chan sat on the edge of the bed facing away from the door, gazing out at the moon as usual. He barely acknowledged you while you approached until you extended his cigarettes out to him. Chan glanced at the pack, then up at you, and then stubbornly back out the window again as he wordlessly took it from you. You pulled your hand back into the quilt.

Still, he didn’t tell you to leave. You joined him in gazing out the window. Despite the loaded stillness surrounding you, the calm felt in simply taking a moment to look out at the night sky gave you a small reprieve. You could see why Chan did it so much.

“She’s beautiful,” you eventually remarked.

The way Chan hardened his jaw was almost solemn, forlorn, as if he was already mourning what he wanted so badly.

“She is,” he finally agreed. He flipped open the top of the box. Chan pursed yet another cigarette between his lips and fumbled with the lighter. He tried lighting three times, in quick succession before he let out a discouraged breath.

Silently, disconcertedly, you wished Chan would invite you to bed. Instead, you gently plucked the cigarette from his mouth. “You’re going to run out at this rate.”

Chan shook his head again, still off in his thoughts. “I should’ve gone inside as soon as you came out.”

“You didn’t, though.”

He could just ask you to bed like you both clearly wanted, simply avoid all these pleasantries altogether.

Right?

You both wanted this?

Chan shrugged. “I still like you.”

You silently begged for it. This was so pathetic, the way you wanted to bury yourself in someone, pull them open and climb inside like a last-ditch effort for warmth in a blizzard. Chan’s hand on his knee nudged towards you – only once, but giving you barely enough hope that he wanted to reach for you, too.

That was the last push you needed, past the point of no return. You let yourself smooth your fingers through Chan’s hair. “Do I still make you wish you were dead?”

The question was innocent, you’d swear it. You really did want to know.

And Chan all but visibly went cold at your inquiry, fully knocked off center by all accounts. But still, in spite of this, he thought about it. He didn’t even have to think long. Chan had an answer he just needed to let himself say. He leaned into your hand, only the smallest bit as he breathed out a defeated laugh.

“Worse,” he grinned down with a repeated shake of his head, “you make me wish I’d never been turned.”

You silently pleaded with him one more time.

Chan’s hand only barely shifted off his knee toward you again before he stopped himself.

This wasn’t allowed to be easy, apparently. Nothing with Chan was.

His furious words at you back under the full moon came to mind, feeling oddly appropriate for the occasion. You don’t get to throw yourself at the feet of this situation.

Fine. You’d take charge, then.

Chan went rigid when you let your fingertips run down through his hair again, like he only now realized what this could be leading to. You stepped around and between Chan’s knees. This was the ultimatum.

The second Chan finally, affirmatively placed a hand on your knee, there was a transaction of pervasive atmosphere, air bearing weight of far too many thoughts; he let a deep breath out, and you gasped a small breath in. The decision was actually a precipice when it had first appeared to be a modest hill. You hadn’t expected the dropping sensation in your gut when he finally looked up at you. He was relieved, and you were terrified. No anger, no hunger, no moon.

Only Chan.

You shivered, from the crown of your head down through your spine to your hips and ultimately your toes when you curled your fingers into Chan’s hair and finally kissed him. He let out the most contented hum, soft and appreciative, and your push brought his pull. Chan’s hands cupped the back of your knees and lightly tugged you towards him, encouraging you to finally climb onto his lap and into bed and you automatically obliged, falling onto him and embracing him fully.

This was almost a review, picking up where you tried to begin on the porch, and Chan was quick to bring things back up to speed as he swiftly brought the quilt down from around your shoulders so he could pick at the buttons of his shirt you still had on. His lips were hot on your cool skin, tasting and savoring you before he brought his lips to your again. You were both nearly feverish now, gathering sparks between you like the start of a fire before you worked the rest of your buttons open before you clutched onto him once more. Chan nuzzled his nose and lips deep into your chest, breathing you in and holding you tightly to him. It was easy to want to rush this, the way your hips were needful working down against his lap in a wanton rhythm and the way Chan’s hips rose up against you in the same.

When he’d finally had enough of only feeling the surface of you, you gasped as Chan easily rolled you over and laid you down on the bed under him, making good on his over-eager promises when it came time to decisively work on the zip of your jeans under the button he’d already freed earlier. Every gasp that formed was another plea for him to come closer, closer until Chan got his fingers into your belt loops and took his time pulling your jeans off, his lips on your ankle and then your knee signaling his return until he finally reached your heat. Your back arched preemptively, eagerly awaiting the second Chan brought your panties down next. Time was never exactly something either of you utilized before, whether that wasn’t a choice or a priority, but it seemed to be one tonight. When you hazarded a look down to the foot of the bed, Chan was patiently lying in wait, taking the exact second you locked eyes to finally lave his tongue along you before he dove in. Your head immediately hit the old downy pillow as Chan hungrily lapped at you, his ravenous moans reverberating through your skin and straight through your core. He let out a pleased grunt when your fingers frantically searched for a hold on the sheets before you settled for gently gripping him by the hair again, and he was sure to hold you down with an arm hooked around your thigh as he deftly slipped a couple fingers from his other hand inside your soaked depths.

Except just like that, it was over again. Chan’s eyes were glazed over and his grin was self-assured, drunk on pleasing you as he wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist before he got up on his knees. His fingers still languidly pumped into you, patiently stretching you open as he absently palmed his growing length in his jeans.

This sensation was so foreign to you, just wanting to have a good time with Chan, but it came easy when he brought out the competitive streak in you. That was there in your dynamic from the first night, but returning to it felt surreal. The moment he drew his fingers out from you to selfishly taste them, you took advantage of it to grab onto the waistband of his jeans, yanking him close and then down beside you. Chan let out a surprised moan, but his restless hands found the sheets instead when you climbed onto his hips to unzip his hoodie. You freed him of this before slowly lifting off his shirt, revealing his pale chest that had turned a rosy pink in his arousal. Chan shivered, his back arching off the bed as your lips caressed his neck. He paused, though, as aware as you were when you carefully kissed the scar you’d left him in the boiler room. Chan’s eyes searched you from that gesture, trying to decipher what exactly you were getting at, but you had a fairly good idea that you both would understand what you meant.

He didn’t get much chance to get distracted by it, however, as the slick heat of your opening slid along his exposed length. Chan nearly whined, but even more so as you moved lower. If he got a chance to get you hot, then it was only fair that you did as well. Now Chan whimpered as you teased your lips and tongue along his rigid member, already dripping from how much he wanted it. You made sure to make that same eye contact he insisted on with you, your hands holding onto his hips as he impatiently wriggled underneath you.

“Mm, baby girl, come on…” Chan finally begged. There it was again. Baby girl. You hadn’t heard princess out of Chan in ages, or leech, or bloodsucker, for that matter. Something really must have changed along the way. Come to think of it, you hadn’t called Chan a dog, or a mutt, or a mongrel, or anything along those lines in a long time, either. He was just Chan.

That was good enough for you. Chan watched as you crawled over him, perching yourself on your hips again before you finally shrugged off his flannel. He was engrossed as you slipped off your camisole next. This was surreal, too, realizing that as frenzied and even violently as you’d fucked since you’d met, you and Chan had never seen each other fully bared. You suddenly felt exposed, a sharp sensation in the pit of your gut before Chan placed a comforting hand on your hip. He drew you close, and as he brought you back down to him, it was easy to gain control again. You tipped Chan’s jaw toward you so you could kiss him, deep and sweet as you swiped the blushing tip of his length against your wetness again. Your tongues wrestled to push each other to make the move, his hips canting up towards your and your fist keeping his distance for him until you finally pulled away from his lips. Chan looked up at you, gazes locked in the dark bedroom when you finally sank onto his cock.

It was simultaneous, your thrilled sigh and his thankful moan, and Chan’s hands wrapped tight around your waist. You worked together, Chan’s hips giving you leverage to grind back down onto him, over and over again. Both of you were lost in each other, fingers groping for purchase on hot skin, finding peaks and sweet spots to run after in each other. Chan sat up underneath you, leaning against the headboard of the bed frame. He still hadn’t let go of you, his fingers digging hard into your hips like you’d vanish if he let up. Regardless, you felt yourself losing momentum fast.

Chan spotted this, too, and was fast to take over. His hands slid up the planes of your back before he brought you over to his side and laid you down, and he took a second to make sure you were with him as he slid back inside you. You eagerly wrapped your thighs around Chan’s hips, your arms wrapping around him and taking your turn to hold him close before it happened. First, it was Chan’s lips on yours, his breath hot in your mouth before he kissed down your neck again. Then it was his lips on your breast, taking a second to tease the pert nub. Then it was Chan’s lips on the scar he’d left you under the full moon, carefully metered to be tender, purposeful and featherlight. Your mind flooded with every thought at once.

You were making love to the wolf that claimed you.

Chan was just as aware of this, the way you both tangled into each other even more as his hips thrust against you. Each moan from you was echoed with a groan from him, and you could feel a climax rising in you that was making you light-headed.

“Chan–” you weakly pleaded.

“Me too,” he struggled out in reply, one of his hands grappling with your thigh to let him dig right into that perfect angle, “come on, baby girl, get there with me–”

And it wasn’t just baby girl, either. Chan shivered out your name, chanting it over and over as his teeth gritted against your neck, right below your ear. You both shuddered into each other as he hit your sweet spot and didn’t let up, now rocking into you with a clear finality until you both clawed into each other, breathing out a shattered moan together in your shared climax.

There were those stars again, just like you’d remembered.

Chan fell against you, into your open arms as he heaved for breath, and you held him like that, stroking his hair and caressing your fingertips along his shoulder blades. You caught sight of the first strands of daylight then, the vastness of night cracking open to let the day in, when you considered retreating to your room downstairs. It was at that moment, however, that Chan wrapped his arms tight around your middle, settling down beside you and laying his head on your chest. You could change your mind. Your eyes tentatively closed, unsure on how you would approach this development when you woke up again, but feeling resolved enough to face it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　🩸 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Chan was gone when you awoke the next night, which stung a little even though you knew well enough that it shouldn’t have. Regardless, the sight of your clothes – including your sweater, mysteriously clean, instead of Chan’s flannel – neatly folded at the foot of the bed was a relief. You untangled yourself from your quilt and finally got dressed when Chan blustered in through the door. He instantly made a beeline for his bag in the corner of the room.

“Hey,” he grinned, “I thought I heard you up here. I have great news. My partner finally has a chance to get out here.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, suddenly incredibly aware that you were getting closer and closer to leaving everything behind.

“Back home,” Chan shrugged easily, as if that were obvious. “I have an apartment in the city, I assume you have a place back there, too.”

Back home.

Your heart pounded. You yanked on your sweater and grabbed your jacket. Outside, the rumble of an engine followed the beam of headlights flashing through the window.

“And what now?”

“Now I finish what I started,” Chan nodded determinedly as he packed everything up. “I have a solid case, next I have to finish up my investigation and find Rand again before he tries to run off.”

“And me?”

Chan looked at you now. You felt meek, small, trying hard not to feel like this was something being taken away from you. Truth be told, you understood that returning to normal was the best thing for everyone. But what did that mean for you? Or for everyone around you? Chan zipped up his bag and set it on the floor. He strode over to you, where you were sitting at the foot of the bed. Chan stooped down to eye level with you when he reached out his hands to place on your shoulders.

“Not you,” he shook his head seriously. “Not me, either. Jisung. You need to decide what happens next. We don’t have much room. You can stay and I’ll come back for you, or you can come now and we’ll both come back.”

You could feel your eyes shake. The cards were on the table. You automatically, mindlessly, got up and followed Chan when he released you and went downstairs, but you paused outside of your room.

Chan’s hand was on your shoulder again. “I know this is hard,” he consoled, “but I know you’ll make a good decision. If it helps–”

“It won’t,” you firmly interrupted him. “I’ll be out and let you know, okay?”

Chan solemnly nodded his head before he grabbed his bag again and headed outside. You heard a commotion of what you assumed was Chan reuniting with his partner again.

Your hand wavered at the doorknob to the room you’d been sharing with Jisung.

This had to be done. You had to choose.

The room was disquietingly still as you crossed over to where Jisung still lay in bed. You cautiously leaned down, too obviously afraid of any conclusions you’d come to. The breath coming from him was so minimal it seemed perfunctory. His chest hardly raised or fell. When you finally stroked his hair back from his forehead, you found that Jisung was no longer clammy. Instead, he was only cold. Still and cold. Your chest caved in again. You were overcome with such a weight that you fell to sit on the bed, gathering your breath again before you heaved it all out. Rather, you gathered yourself, like you’d been doing all week. Like you’d been doing for the last few nights. However long or short this living hell was. You calmed yourself down as much as you could, wiping your sleeve across your burning tears before you took a deep breath, cupped Jisung’s face in your hands, and found his lips in the dark.

Just like that night in the bookstore.

“Oh, Jisung,” you brokenly murmured to him, “I love you. I’m so happy we found each other, too.”

You captured Jisung’s lips in one kiss, as strong as you could handle, before you released him. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave right away, regardless of knowing what you wanted next. You stepped back, making your way out of the room, ultimately retreating but still not wanting to let Jisung out of your sight. This was resolute. You’d let Chan know your choice and you would be committed to that.

Finally, you backed out of the room and were able to peek out the front door. There was Chan, standing close with who you assumed to be his partner in front of a tiny sedan. Sure enough, once you got a good look at him, this was definitely Detective Seo – and the recognition was mutual.

“I still can’t believe how long you’ve kept the blonde, dude – holy shit. So it is you!”

The young detective stopped mid-sentence once he caught sight of you, even leaning over to get a better look at you. You nearly jumped as Chan whirled around to follow his partner when he took another step away from the car to see you more clearly.

“Hi?” you offered in mild bewilderment as you walked out to the car.

“Changbin,” Chan grinned apologetically, “I’m guessing you already know who this is.”

“I had a hunch,” Changbin nodded, dumbfounded, “but I didn’t expect you to… still be here. With him. If that makes sense.”

“Well, I’m here,” you awkwardly shrugged, with the worst excuse for a smile you could muster.

“Are you involved?” Changbin curiously badgered. “Or are you just along for the ride?”

“Er,” you fumbled, “I’m definitely more involved than I thought I’d be.”

“How about that...” Changbin marvelled. “I never expected that after what I told you, not until Chan caught me up on everything.”

You jumped as a hand landed on your shoulder. Chan got your attention, gently squeezing it. “Hey,” he softly assured you, “I’m going to get the rest of my things. Tell me your choice when I come out, okay?”

You nodded wanly. Changbin looked a bit guilty when you noticed him again.

“I heard about most of what’s going on,” he admitted, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you glibly shrugged, “I can handle–”

“I know you can,” Changbin interrupted with a reassuring smile, “but this is big. This is rough. You need to own it. Chan is honestly terrible at processing this shit most of the time, so if he’s been helping you then I’m sorry it’s been taking twice as long to do half as much.”

You softened for a second, appreciating how this veritable stranger was handling you so immediately. “Thanks,” you finally managed.

“Of course,” Changbin nodded firmly. “I had no idea just telling you about the coast could make all this happen to you.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I wasn’t putting my nose where it didn’t belong–”

Changbin froze, distracting you as a garbled yell came from inside the house.

Another.

The alarming crash of breaking glass.

Another yell.

The smack of cracking wood.

And, finally, a shotgun blast.

Your veins ran cold, coursing through to your skin. You could barely hear as Changbin tried to stop you from sprinting up to the front door again.

The old farmhouse was disturbingly quiet when you stepped inside. Your boot on the threshold almost echoed, it was so silent inside, when a dazed groan finally drew your gaze.

Chan hung, slumped in the arms of whoever was holding him, the figure obscured in the dark. A feeble groan came from him, his head lolling back and exposing the cascade of crimson that had spilled down over his shoulder from his throat. Your back hit the wall by the door, unsure of what you could do except let out a terrified whimper as the figure dropped Chan in a heap.

One boot stepped over his body, and then another.

Your gasp rattled through you.

Though you yourself didn't desire the High Crown at first, the elders continuously pressuring you eventually pushed you into accepting the task. Plus, knowing that it's Jisung—the brat who pulled on your hair during those silly etiquette lessons the high jury made you and the other royals take as kids and embarrassed you when you once confessed your past crush to him in middle school—who would be automatically crowned without a test if Hyunjin isn't found in time and you also refuse made you go forward with it. After all, as much as you personally don't want to answer to Jisung as the next High King, you also think that entrusting the entire magical realm to him is simply not right. You would know, you had to grow up with him.

So, here you are on the night that the Crown Candidacy exam begins, receiving the final blessing from your mother and the high jury with Jisung who has been sneakily trying to poke on your side and get a reaction out of you since the ceremony began. If 15 elders and your mentors aren't surrounding the two of you with their scrutinizing eyes right this very moment, you would've easily snapped on the first poke and blasted the blue-haired boy.

"Stop that," You instead gritted your teeth next to him with the 17th poke to your waist, lowering your voice that only he can hear. "Ji, I swear to the gods—"

Among the circle of witches and wizards chanting ritual protection spells over the two of you, your mentor Younghyun glares at you and Jisung as if in a non-verbal scolding that the two of you should stop "playing around" as he would usually word it. You simply roll your eyes at this in response, earning you more quizzical looks from the other elders.

You also hate the way that Han Jisung keeps stringing you into his antics as his favourite person to mess with. If anything, you're most often in trouble with the elders because of him.

"This part of the ceremony is so unnecessary. I'm bored" He murmurs tiredly under his breath, bringing his hands back inside his black cape and pushing his shoulders back as he stands up straighter once more. "It's not like humans can hurt us. We're the magical ones, hello? Besides, the jury’s already cut the one-year exam by half. What could even happen in that time?”

"Stray monsters can still hunt you there if you don’t stand still." You correct immediately, earning you a look from your own mother this time as she finishes leading the last of the spells. At this point in your unwanted association with him, you don't even care much anymore that you get in trouble because you entertain his antics. You just want him to shut up. "Whatever. It's done."

The prince then giddily springs up in place once all of the spells are casted, suddenly looking more awake than the past 5 minutes of ceremony. "Finally! Okay, thanks for that! We'll be going now!"

"Wait." Your mother calmly interrupts him, perfectly hiding her slight annoyance over you and Jisung as she whips out her blue wand from the pockets of her ceremonial robes. "For the high jury to properly tally the ecure that you'll collect in the human world after this task, we'll be providing you with vessels to keep them."

As she mentions the vessels, a sapphire locket and an emerald ring materialize in front of you and Jisung respectively before settling at the palms of your hands. You're then quick to notice the way that the diamond-cut sapphire encrusted at the center of your locket emits warmth as you place it around your neck, indicating its magical properties.

"These vessels have been modified further to record everything that you collect and any spell or potion that you might use them on while undertaking in this task." Your mother then continues. Simultaneously, Younghyun gestures for you and Jisung to mount your brooms and prepare to fly off into the yellow crescent moon where the portal to the human world lies on its other side. "Though the ecure that you lose is not counted in the final tally, knowing how you used or lost them also contributes to the jury's examination of your magical skills and knowledge."

Jisung chuckles, bumping the bristle end of his broom with yours playfully. "And to see what kind of trouble we'll get ourselves into, right?"

In response, you simply roll your eyes. Your mother, on the other hand, purposely tunes out Jisung's usual antics and continues, "Remember, this exam will determine the next monarch that unites all of the 4 major domains. Collect as much ecure as you can from the humans in the 6 months that you're given with them and you will be rewarded greatly. Until then, have a safe journey to the human world, candidates."

With that, you and Jisung push yourselves off from the castle balcony, heading straight to the crescent moon.

"Last to the other side is a lousy flyer!" Jisung yells playfully into the quiet night, speeding ahead before you could even process his words. “And has to pay for a meal sometime!”

"Ya! Han Jisung!" You increase your speed yourself anyway despite knowing that his words don’t have any ill meaning, catching up to him with ease just as the two of you pass into the portal. “I paid for the meals last time!” 

-

Han Jisung isn't always fond of you, the heir to the Northern Kingdom, for reasons he simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that he has. He thinks you're too uptight (especially in the presence of the high jury and the other elders of the bigger royal circle), easily irritable, and surprisingly a bit of a pushover to your kingdom's advisors ever since your cousin, Chan, renounced his royal title and settled in the human world.

These days, however, he hates the way that you've suddenly taken up an interest in competing for the high crown of the magical world alongside him even when you've made it clear countless times before that you only wanted to rule your own kingdom. You only started showing interest after Lia formally refused her candidacy and the elders pushed you more into changing your mind, clearly hinting that you don't want Jisung to automatically be crowned High King.

Do they really think that terribly of me? Jisung has resorted to thinking a lot about these days, even now as the two of you arrive at Chan’s place where you would be staying for the duration of the test. I make a good high king as much as I do the king of my own people! Hmp!

It shouldn't bother him this much, it's just you anyway. But at the same time, it bothers him for this very same reason: because it's you, the know-it-all who always busted his antics to the teachers back in school and embarrassed him to his friends when you confessed your past crush to him back in middle school. Jisung hates the way you challenge and compel him to be petty and competitive all the time, especially in the little things. Like right now, as the two of you argue on who gets the bigger bedroom in Chan's house right after you arrived.

"You know, I was just holding back a while ago because we were in front of the elders but I swear, I won't hesitate to blast you now that we're away." You warn as you try your best to stare him down while he blocks the bedroom door you both want. You have your hands raised to the side, sparks of a spell encircling our fingers and the space between your hands. "Move, Jisung!"

Still, Jisung stubbornly refuses. You two have bickered enough to last you all of your lifetimes and for him to know that you won't really do it. "I was here first! You go to the other room!"

The blue ball of energy in your hands begins to shape itself into a more tangible shape as your brows furrow even deeper in frustration. "But I called dibs on this room to Chan firs—!"

Before you could finish your words, however, Chan peeks his head out from the opposite end of the hallway with a pile of blankets in his hands. "You two still going at it? It's almost 2 AM." He teases in feigned disapproval, approaching the two of you to throw a blanket each of your way. "Come on, give it up, Sung. Y/N gets the big room."

Jisung's initial smug expression contorts into disbelief in an instant while you celebrate with a wide grin and a teasing tongue stuck out at him. "What?!"

"Ha! Thanks, Channie!" You clasp your hands together in satisfaction, the red sparks in your hands disappearing into thin air as you do so, before pushing the paralyzed Jisung out of the way and locking yourself in the bedroom. Once Jisung's pulled himself together at the betrayal, you then briefly peek your head out of the door, sticking your tongue out for the last time before greeting the two boys with a quick, "Goodnight!"

Jisung glares and purses his lips in front of Chan who chuckles at this. "Hyung!" He whines, grabbing the older boy by his biceps and shaking him wildly like how a child would throw a tantrum. "I don't see you for three years and when I do, I get treated like this?!"

"Exactly." Chan nods with an amused smile, tugging Jisung to his side and leading him to his room across from yours. "Y/N was kind enough to visit me here while you didn't even send a letter. I think that's enough to give them the big room."

"Aah, but you already know why I couldn't! I was busy with all the prince stuff!"

"Y/N was too, though? And they’re doing twice the work than you."

"But Y/N's more organized than me!"

"So you agree? My cousin earned the bigger room?"

"No, it’s not th—aish! Bang Chan!" When the older boy in question tries pushing Jisung back to the smaller bedroom, the latter childishly protests by gripping onto the doorframe. "I'm making it up to you now! I'm literally staying here for 6 months!"

"Yeah and I'll definitely treat you to lots of other things for that later. Seriously, Ji, give it a rest. It's just your temporary room for the exam." Chan sighs with a tired laugh, prying the younger wizard's hands off of the doorframe and shoving him inside the room. "Unpack your things and get some sleep. We're having a welcoming party for you two on the weekend."

"You're supposed to side with me here."

"Don't pull that face, you're not kids anymore." Chan chuckles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "And I'm not siding with anyone. It’s just a room! Night, Sungie."

Jisung opens his mouth to protest, only for Chan to close the door on him and walk back to his own room. With a sigh, the boy defeatedly trudges to his new bed and, after taking out his expandable pouch from his pockets, jumps to the mattress with a muffled groan to the plush pillows.

Jisung also hates how one of his best friends favors you better just because you're cousins first. He's had enough of Chan coddling you before from when you were kids, always taking your side when the two of you bicker and offering you his extra food when the three of you are together, and he would much prefer it if he doesn't see it now that the two of you are undergoing an important exam.

"At least the view's nice." He pouts to himself once he's seated up once more, facing the window that overlooks the city. After just spending ten minutes flying over Seoul and exploring Chan's vast mansion, Jisung gets it a little now. Chan definitely didn't choose this realm over their home for no reason.

If I'm not in line to be king, Jisung thinks to himself, this life also seems nice.

Hovering his hands over the enchanted green pouch, its neatly packed contents of clothes and other personal belongings then emerge from its seemingly tiny space before levitating to their respective places. "Aish, that Y/N!" Jisung yells loudly on purpose, leaning on his side closer to the door to hear your reaction.

Across the hall, while you make a fuss out of unpacking and changing the appearance of some furniture, you yell back, "Shut up, Ji!"

Jisung has many reasons for disliking you at times but, if anything, he lives for your reactions when he purposely annoys you. Even when he knows you’re always a spell away from actually snapping at him, you never actually do and it never fails to amuse him. Scoffing, he lets it slide for now and quietly unpacks.

-

If attending social functions as a royal has taught you anything over the years, it's to avoid being within reach of Jisung at a party before, during, and after he makes a huge mess of things. You've had your own fair share of spilled drinks to your dress robes, purposely getting embarrassed in front of the elders and other important public officials, and even a huge fight over not wanting to be his dance partner to remind you of this at all times.

Of the places that you and Jisung have to be standing next to each other, it's the parties that you hate having to see him at the most because they bring you nothing but trouble. Chan's welcoming party for the two of you, with witches and wizards living in the human world as well as Chan's own human friends in attendance, is no exception.

"What do you think he's going to do this time?" Yeji snickers next to you on the makeshift dance floor of the house's backyard. Ever since her brother disappeared, she's been staying in the human world combing through every inch of Seoul and trying to retrace what is little known of the steps he took. Naturally, you've stuck to each other like glue since she arrived. "It's been two hours since this party started and all he's doing is—"

"Flirt with every human on the dance floor. I know, that's why I'm not looking over my shoulder. I think that's all he's planning to do in this party, given that we've started with the test." You frown, taking a sip of your beer as the song changes to a more lively one. "This guy's never taken any exam back in school seriously but now he suddenly wants to win this one exam. Weird, right?"

"Hm, maybe he really wants to win this exam and become high king. You can never really tell what goes on in that head of his." Yeji shrugs, blinking twice in quick succession to make her eyes turn red, an indication that she's scanning the venue for the humans' ecures. "Anyway, he's definitely working hard. I see a lot of orange hearts for him as much as there are for you."

Only then do you also turn your head around the place, your own eyes turning blue as you collect the orange hearts of infatuation and green hearts of friendship that people you've met tonight have for you with a non-verbal spell. As you catch these little crystal hearts into your locket, you briefly catch a glimpse of Jisung at one of the foldable tables chatting with three human girls. It somehow irritates you.

"He never lost that cringey fuckboy persona, huh?" Yeji points out once you're done with your collecting, shaking her now empty bottle and frowning once she realizes that it's already empty. "I guess I didn't miss out on much even after being away for a few weeks."

"You talk like you were gone for a year, not 3 weeks." You laugh. When she then asks you if you want to get new beer bottles, you follow her back to the coolers behind Chan's DJ set. "I hate how we'll be seeing more of those again when we start attending uni to collect more hearts."

"Oh, right! You're attending mine, right? You'll be with me, Seungmin, and Ryujin?" When you nod once more, she links her arms with yours and adds, “Gosh, I can just see it now, girls from the different departments flocking the two of you on the first day but especially Sung. A lot of girls I know from uni really dig that e-boy thing he has going on."

You pretend to gag, making her throw her head back in a cackle of laughs. "Humans and their weird tastes in men." You scrunch up your nose, the two of you briefly pausing to politely wave at Chan as you pass by his booth.

Your cousin doesn't hesitate to wave back at you both before going back to his spinning. You and Yeji then head to the back of his area where the coolers of different beverages have been placed.

"Oh shush, didn't you too also have a crush on him way back then?" Yeji teases the moment the two of you are alone again, opening the cooler with a simple flick of her hand. You follow along despite the glare you send her way, your empty beer bottles getting replaced by new ones. "Sometimes, Ryujin and I like to think that you still have a little bit of that."

"No way." You shake your head in denial, picking up a bottle opener from one of the closed coolers and using it over yours and Yeji's. "Middle school was a long time ago. Jisung just irritates the hell out of me now."

"Who irritates who now?" A voice behind you perks up almost immediately, causing you to jump and spill a little of your beer on the grass. When you glance over your shoulder, Jisung's white bucket hat comes into your vision, eventually uncovering his mischievous smile. "Ah, so clumsy. Look, you spilled a little beer on the grass.” 

Next to you, Yeji giggles behind her hand while greeting Jisung. You glare at her in response.

"You're annoying." You point out with a pout, thrusting the bottle opener to his chest before linking arms with Yeji. "We're going."

Jisung only shrugs with a smirk, waving goodbye to Yeji as the two of you pass by him to go back to the dance floor. "It makes you look, doesn't it?"

"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that." You roll your eyes before disappearing back into the crowd with Yeji.

Once Jisung is out of earshot, Yeji then nudges your side with your linked arms. "I'm telling you, there's still a little something. Deep, deep down there." She teases in a singsong. “That’s probably why the banter just won’t die out.”

"Nope, definitely not." You shake your head. "Have you been watching too much of those human dramas while you’re here? It’s playing with your judgement."

-

It comes even as a surprise to Jisung himself that he hasn't caused a major mishap in this welcoming party so far. Since the majority of the guests started arriving two hours ago, he hasn't done anything troubling besides losing to Ryujin at beer pong and finishing a whole red cup of Chan's jungle juice concoction as punishment almost an hour ago.

It doesn't bother his "instincts for mischief" that much—his mentor's words not his. It means that he's more focused on collecting ecures at the moment with the amount of humans he's mingled with at this party, especially the girls who have taken it upon themselves to flirt with him.

What does bother him slightly, however, is the way you occasionally glance over to him knowingly from across the lawn, as if you're expecting him to do something. You always seem to do that after years of getting roped into his troubles, much like a lot of your childhood friends who'd frequently end up in similar predicaments. Somehow, however, it's always intimidating when it's you looking at him. He personally hates that, the look in your eyes when you're trying to catch him in his mischievous acts.

"Who are you and what have you done to my twin brother?" Felix has been teasing the entire night every time he encounters Jisung. When Jisung pouts this time, while the two share a drink on a couch that was brought out for this party, Felix laughs over his drink and adds, "Oh, so you're really focused on this test, huh? No trouble until this party's over?"

"Why do you guys think I'm not?" Jisung frowns, elbowing his brother by his side. "Geez, Lix, you're supposed to root for me here. If I win, you get to be king too."

In response, Felix waves his solo cup dismissively. "No, no, I think you're doing great! You've caught how much already? Twenty hearts in this party? That's a great start, bro." He comments with a proud smile. "It's just a little new, seeing you all so serious and focused. It's not because you're up against Y/N, right?"

"Ha? Nope, definitely not. It's barely a competition when I'm clearly winning." Jisung shakes his head a little too defensively as he sinks into the soft velvet couch. "I just think it's natural that another kingdom should get the high crown this time and since it's only me and Y/N competing, unless we also find Hyunjin while we're here I should work hard and make it happen."

Just then, Seungmin sits down on his other side with a cup of punch and a small paper plate of sweets from the chocolate fountain. "If Hyunjin was here, he would've whipped your asses in this party by getting all of the human guys and girls with one smile." He points out matter-of-factly. "Plus, if Lia accepted the candidacy, all three of you would've lost even before you left home."

"You never really rooted for me, huh, Minnie?" Jisung feigns sad eyes as he rests his head on Seungmin's shoulder. "And here I thought we're best friends."

"Oh no, I'm totally rooting for you now." Seungmin replies with a dry chuckle, passing his paper plate over to Felix when he holds his hands out in a motion asking for food. "But if the gang was complete, I would've changed to team Hyunjin."

Jisung scoffs at this, swiping a marshmallow covered in chocolate from Seungmin's plate. "Fine, I won’t hold it against you. I miss Hyunjin too."

"Yeji and Chae are doing everything they can to look for him. He'll turn up somewhere, he just has to. Until then, you should just focus more on your exam. Hyunnie would want that." Felix quips in before turning his attention over to you and Yeji at the nearby karaoke mini bar. "Look, that's what Y/N and Yeji are doing right now."

When Jisung looks through the crowd that has gathered around you, his eyes turning a deep green, he sees a lot of orange hearts gravitate over to you, mostly from the uni boys and girls that Yeji, Seungmin, and Ryujin have invited to this party.

"You guys are seeing it too, right?" Felix asks, his own eyes a matching shade of green when he tilts his head over to Seungmin and Jisung. "At least twenty new hearts in a span of 10 minutes, right after they just gave Y/N a bunch of green hearts."

Seungmin nods, his head movements making Jisung's head shake a little on his shoulder. "Yeah. Y/N's really working extra on this." He notes in complete awe. "The competition's really close, don't you think so Lix?"

"Definitely. What do you think, Ji?"

"Nope, definitely not." Jisung crosses his arms and shakes his head in disagreement. "It's impressive but not enough to catch up to me."

But the smallest hint of a frown gracing his features is enough to give his feelings away to his friends. Only now does it fully sink in that it’s definitely a tight competition between the two of you.

one out of six months

At one point, you understood why people would foolishly fall for Jisung. On a really good day, when he's not causing you or anyone too much trouble, you could see his playful side as charming, maybe even too cute for you to admit it out loud. A long time ago, back when you were still so naïve, you had a small playground crush on him too, after all; a crush that ended so badly you're convinced it's where your bickering naturally escalated.

But now, as your days in the human world turn into a month spent fulfilling your Crown Candidacy exam at university with your friends, you just wish that not a lot of humans are so insanely attracted to Jisung. It's nothing personal, of course, you're not jealous at all in that way. Whenever you sit in the library to study, attend classes from late in the morning to early afternoons, or even just sit in the quad with your shared friend group discussing updates on Yeji's search for Hyunjin, however, your competitor is just always being followed by flocks of smitten girls with their orange and pink ecures of crushes on their sleeves, ready to be collected by Jisung's emerald ring.

And you're not going to get started on the rainbow-colored hearts that send him little gifts and love letters at least once a week before classes, sometimes even directly to Chan's house where the third kitchen fridge is now filled with bakery goods stashed along with Chan's fan gifts. Not wanting to admit it to him or any of your friends, you're admittedly quite jealous because he attracts the ecures from the humans so easily while you have to work extra harder in socializing with your human peers to garner even just pink hearts. You hate having to work extra, extra harder just to be on par with him all the time, especially when he seems to be effortless in his ways.

"Before Lix went back to the magical realm, he relayed that Changbin from back home suggested that we start expanding our search for Hyunjin to—" For the sixth time since your group met up at the quad after classes this particular afternoon, another group of girls pass by and greet Jisung, interrupting Yeji in her explanations. Pouting slightly, she then turns to Jisung and pokes him with her pen, snapping the smirk off of his face. "Sung, focus."

Jisung nods quickly, waving Yeji's pen away from his side. "Yeah, let me just collect their hearts real quick."

You roll your eyes in response, nudging Yeji to resume her updates. "Just go on, Yeji." You encourage her, Seungmin and Ryujin nodding along in agreement. For emphasis, you make sure to tap Jisung's hand on the grass with your own pen harshly, making him wince dramatically in pain. "You're extending the search to Incheon, right?"

"Oh, uh yeah. Like I said, Lix said that Changbin suggested Incheon since Hyunjin briefly mentioned it in one of his letters. We'll start looking into it ourselves before this semester is over." Yeji continues on, ignoring the next group of passing girls that Jisung gets distracted over again this time around. "Chaeryoung is going there in the following months, though, to scout the places first. Then, we'll try and follow up with a search of our own. I'll have to ask Chan and the jury back at home if you and Jisung are allowed to go, though, since you're taking your exam."

"Among those places, Hyunjin often went to this stretch of the beach because he was investigating a monster from home who escaped here and took an artifact from our kingdom." Seungmin added, pointing to a location on Yeji's map sprawled over your laptops at the very center of your circle. "It was one of his last assignments here before he suddenly disappeared. We'll probably stay here the longest."

You try your best to listen, adding your own inputs to how your search operations would go while also noticing a couple of people who recognize you and wave your way, but Jisung somehow keeps grabbing your attention by the way he entertains his admirers who greet him shyly as they pass by you group. The playful smirks he sends their way, the polite waves, and the way his hand keeps twitching in between the two of you as he collects the ecures with his own spell keep eating away at your attention span, pressuring you that he's taking the lead in your race.

You also try discreetly collecting your own share of hearts under your breath whenever someone you know passes by but you eventually find it hard finding people while trying to listen to your friends. "Ji, focus." You mumble under your breath after a while, breaking his focus as he collects two more orange hearts.

"Y/N, keep up with me here." He smirks, just as the orange hearts disappear into his ring. "Why are you so distracted by me, anyway? Jealous?"

"I’m not jealous!” 

"Guys focus." Ryujin snaps at the two of you this time, chuckling in amusement when you and Jisung both glare at her. "Hey, easy on the stink eyes. I'm just telling you two to listen over here."

"Do as I do, Ryujin, and just tune them out." Seungmin jabs nonchalantly as he and Yeji take down notes of their discussion, not even once looking up at you nor Jisung. "It works out splendidly once you've mastered it."

"Hearing them bicker over random things before was one thing. Hearing them bicker over ecures now is a whole new playing field." Ryujin smirks, particularly to you. "Ah, you guys sound even more like a married couple now that you're competing. Tsk, tsk..."

"No, we're not!" You and Jisung answer in chorus, looking incredulously at each other after. "Ya!"

"Seungmin's right. Just tune them out, Ryujin." Yeji points out without missing a beat, a small smile taking out the initial annoyance from her face. "Anyway, what's important is we settle our plans first. Let the married couple race for the crown."

"Ya! Hwang Yeji!" You scold, flinging your notebook towards her which she dodges swiftly. "I'm listening, I swear."

Yeji gives you a look of mock disbelief in response before chuckling and going back to her work. "Whatever you say."

-

Jisung won’t admit it to any of you nor his friends’ faces but he may be just a little jealous that you’re catching onto him at a great speed and looking surprisingly nonchalant about it on the outside. You work extremely hard, that’s a given and Jisung respects that as much as the two of you annoy each other. But he doesn’t even have to sneak over to your room at night and check your locket for your ecure count; the boys and girls from uni, the market where Chan forces the two of you to run errands on weekends, and even at Ryujin’s favorite skate park who always take two glances your way wherever you go are enough giveaway to the amount you’re collecting everyday. And it’s a whole lot of hearts. He won’t even be surprised if you’ve managed to collect 300 hearts by now.

And he’s not even going to get started on how fast you manage to take ecures from the same people twice in less than a week, managing to charm same-age neighbors and classmates from good friends to secret admirers in a span of a few days and getting you at least twice the amount for your tally. You have enough hearts on your locket to keep up with Jisung’s count and use your magic leisurely at home. You definitely keep your competitor up on his toes all the time with how you’re giving your all in this competition and it’s gnawing at him to do even better. 

What annoys him on top of this, however, are certain kinds of people that look your way, or even Yeji’s and Ryujin’s for that matter. When the three of you aren’t looking and a bunch of passing jocks would eye you weirdly on the quad or at the library, especially since you’re new to the school, his natural instinct is to glare them down until they’re looking away. He sees their purple ecures from where he would sit across from you as you study, a sign of a lusting kind of feeling, and it does nothing but to tick him off into intimidating them until the color fades out. 

Seungmin thinks that, in a way, this is cheating and that you’d probably think the same way if you find out since purple ecures are ranked quite high in the tally, just above pink hearts (”Y/N’s gotten mad at you before for going too far or breaking the rules. You, of all people, should know not to get on their bad side.”). When Jisung writes to Felix back home after, however, his twin naturally defends him and says that he’s just looking out for you. 

“You guys don’t always see eye to eye, even now that you’re competing against each other,” Felix recorded over the enchanted mail that arrived after your meeting at the quad, Jisung and Seungmin separating from your group to do some more studying at the library. “but you’re just looking out for Y/N and protecting them from any weirdos, like for Ryujin and Yeji. Just tone it down a bit and let them handle it sometimes.” 

“See? Lix thinks I’m doing something right.” Jisung sticks his tongue out at Seungmin who simply shakes his head in stubborn disagreement before returning back to his class notes. “I’m telling you, I’m not sabotaging Y/N on purpose.” 

“Still, whether they want to collect those purple ecures or not is not your choice to make.” Seungmin points out. Though he agrees with Jisung’s intentions, as he’s been doing the same and looking out for you and your friends in his own ways as well, he also trusts that you can take care of yourself. “Just let them handle it next time, unless they actually do need your help.”

“But—“

“Consider the guys that passed by at the quad the last time you’ll mess with Y/N’s ecures.” “You saw that?!”

Still, it gnaws on Jisung’s conscience when he takes the train home with you later that day, when another purple heart springs up for you as he checks your surroundings and finds it to be from a stranger. What a creep, Jisung cringes internally with disgust before strategically blocking the man out from your sight and standing closer to you, Y/N’s competition but I’m a decent being! Be the bigger person or whatever bullshit.

“Ya, what are you doing?” You push him away with your index finger to his stomach, leaving a bigger gap between the two of you as you stand on the moving train. “Ji, personal space.” 

“We’re literally cramped in this train like canned sardines, Y/N. I’m just trying to make space for the people coming in.” Jisung fibs in retort, unknowingly timing his words perfectly with the train making a stop and justifying his next action of taking a step closer to you. This time, he makes sure that he’s towering over you and blocking the creep behind him completely by moving his hand over to the train handle right next to where your hand is. “Don’t make it weird!”

Your expression is surprisingly unwavering now, clearly unamused by his boyish quips. “You’re the one making it weird! You keep hovering over me.” 

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, instinctively steadying you with one hand when the abrupt movements of the train pushes you slightly forwards. “Oops, careful there.” 

When Jisung takes one last glance at the creep and finds him still looking over your general direction, the boy finally snaps and sends a little spell over the man’s way, one that makes him itch all over and ties his shoelaces together. This is the last time, Jisung swears to himself with a chuckle under his breath, oh what the hell? Punishing creeps is kinda funny.

two out of six months

The first time Han Jisung spots a red heart that he can collect, it’s 2 months into your candidacy exam and he makes the surprising decision to prolong collecting it by several days. It’s not that Soonyoung from your Math class is aware of this. As far as she knows, Jisung is simply stringing her along much like he does with every other girl he’s flirting with and she doesn’t seem to mind this fact. 

But you mind, you and your other friends do a lot. “It’s a powerful heart and costs 5000 points on the point system.” Seungmin even noted himself once on another day that Jisung left your class without Soonyoung’s crystal red heart. You mostly agree on this, coupled with the fact that you can’t steal the heart for yourself to gain more points in the race since it’s not for you. “Just take it, it’s not going to get any higher than that.”

No matter how much you or any of your friends nag, however, Jisung simply lets the days pass doing nothing much about it besides entertain Soonyoung whenever the girl approaches. As his sole competitor in your candidacy exam, you visibly feel the most frustrated out of everyone else by each passing day, especially at the thought that you yourself haven’t managed any red hearts yet. 

“It is weird, very not like him but also a bit like him if that makes sense?” Ryujin notes by the 10th day, after you recounted Math class to her as you take a short break together. Today, Jisung agreed to go to lunch with Soonyoung, only to tell you and Seungmin that even then he’s not going to take her heart today. “I mean knowing what happened between you two in middle sch—” 

You immediately shake your head before she could even finish her thought, “No, I don’t think that has anything to do with now. Definitely not.” 

“It’s not like that! I meant to say that this is even worse than when you had a crush on Jisung. The girl’s ecure is as red as red could go!” Ryujin exclaims, forcing you to cover her mouth with your hand just as Soonyoung and Jisung comically pass by your table at the kiosk to eat lunch together. Slowly prying your hands off once the pair in question are out of earshot, Ryujin then leans over the table and continues, “But even then, he’s not taking it to gain momentum in your exam. Aren’t you a little bit curious why?” 

You hesitantly shrug, “I mean, a little...but honestly I think he’s just being stupid. If I were him, I won’t string the girl along, not for this long anyway. It’s a waste of time and effort when he can just pick up the heart and reject her carefully.” 

“Then, maybe he has his reasons. If you know about it, you might get an advantage!” Yeji speaks up this time, joining your table late with a huge pile of library books on top of her laptop bag in her hands. As much as this girl has been busy looking for her brother, she also keeps up with her human world cover surprisingly well even when she doesn’t have to with all the studying that she does on the side. “One way to find out, right? I heard Felix’s not that busy these days back home.”

You feign a frown at the two girls agreeing in unison, especially at Yeji as she takes out her phone from the magical realm. “You know, you’re really good at sticking your head into a lot of things even when you’re busy looking for your brother.” You note dryly, making Yeji laugh while dialling Felix’s phone on the other side. “That was sarcastic, Yeji.” 

“I’m a great multitasker.” She winks before placing her phone at the center of your table then scooting her chair closer to you and Ryujin, effectively hiding the odd-looking device that projects Felix’s face almost immediately. “Hey Lix!”

“Hi Lix!” You politely greet along with Ryujin anyway, waving to the small projection of the prince on Yeji’s phone. By the faint greenery that surrounds him, you immediately assume that he’s back at home and tending to his personal garden. 

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” The younger Eastern prince jokes, greeting the three of you individually after. “What’s up? Seungmo and Sungie not with you three today?” 

“Seungmin got held back in class today for a TA offering and your brother’s on a date! Can you believe it? A lunch date with a human girl!” Yeji explains a little too excitedly, you and Ryujin immediately shushing her up. Giggling, the princess continues anyway, “Which is why we called! We just thought it’s a little weird that Jisung’s not trying to catch this red heart when it’s a clear advantage to his tally and maybe you’d know why.” 

All the while Yeji explains your purpose for calling, you slowly observe how Felix’s own expression morphs into that of genuine surprise. “What? He hasn’t taken it?!” He exclaims in response after Yeji finishes speaking. “Are you sure? That’s not very like him.” 

“Well, why do you think he hasn’t taken it, then?” You suddenly find yourself asking this time, earning you incredulous looks from your peers. Brushing them off, you simply glance over at Felix as he tries thinking of a reason himself. 

“Maybe he still can’t reject admirers for shit.” Ryujin snickers under her breath, making you elbow the girl harshly on her side. 

But surprisingly, Felix nods absentmindedly to this. “Maybe…”

“Are you seriously agreeing with that, Lix?” You frown. “I think he’s just up to no good.” 

“Hey, Ji can act weird and not be up to trouble too, you know.” Felix pouts back. “But honestly, I don’t know why he’s not thinking of taking it either, especially knowing how he’s so proud of getting to receive it alone. Maybe he likes this person, who knows?” 

The thought feels so foreign to you, Jisung genuinely liking someone, especially knowing what he did when you were much younger. But when you glance over to your friends, you also notice the same confused looks on their faces. 

“Han Jisung...liking someone? Enough to respect their feelings?” Ryujin muses out loud before eventually shaking her head. “Nope, sounds weird. Dangerous! Alien! Y/N, have you been noticing any other weird things from your housemate lately? Maybe he’s been secretly abducted by aliens!” 

“Oh stop it, Ryujin! Whatever it is my brother’s planning, I trust that he at least has an idea what he’s doing.” Felix sighs, running a hand through his blonde locks. In the background of his end, the faint voice of Changbin beckoning him over momentarily catches his attention. “If he’s being stupid again, then just let him be. If he does like this person, though, I just hope that he treads carefully while he’s at it. You know how precious witch ecures are.” 

“Oh, I know…” You murmur under your breath as you scrunch up your nose, unconsciously glancing over to Jisung and Soonyoung’s table where the two are laughing over something you can’t hear from across the room. When Changbin’s voice grows louder on Felix’s end, you then smoothly steer the topic to a close, “Anyway, sorry for bothering you at this time. Bin’s calling for you.” 

Next to you, Ryujin and Yeji agree with nods and smiles as Felix waves his free hand dismissively at this. “No, it’s okay! Just look out for my brother, yeah? I gotta go, Queen Lia just arrived for tea with me and my mom!” 

“Oh, then we’ll see you!” “Have fun at tea!” “Say hi to Lia for us!” 

Felix waves one last goodbye before ending the call. As his image disappears from Yeji’s phone, the princess is quick to pocket her phone back and turn to you with a raised brow, “So, what do you think? Even Lix finds it weird.” 

Personally, you think it’s odd. The thought that Jisung could easily be developing feelings for someone while taking your exam, to someone human no less.  You’ll probably never admit it to him but he’s been working hard in collecting hearts up to this point and you know him enough to know that he won’t let himself get distracted with something like this. “What is he planning exactly?” 

-

You’re giving Jisung that look again, through the boy’s reflection on the bus mirror no less as the two of you head to Chan’s studio where he has promised the two of you dinner. The same look you kept giving him during your welcome party just last month, probably without you knowing, rests on your tired features as you listen to music on your phone and rest your cheek against your propped up hand on the window seat you almost threw him out of the bus for. What did I do now? The boy can’t help but whine pitifully to himself as he steals another glance at your direction while scrolling through his phone. 

Jisung helplessly rakes his brain for anything that he’s done today that could’ve possibly pissed you off while pretending to look down on his phone, missing the way you shift uncomfortably in your seat as if you were going to ask a question. 

“So—” “I meant to ask—”

Jisung’s immediately closes his mouth shut when the two of you speak at the same time, eyes widening when he looks up and sees you already looking over at him directly. Simultaneously, you’re quick to look away from him and cough awkwardly, quietly mumbling out that Jisung speaks first. “Go ahead.” 

“What did I do this time?” Jisung immediately goes for it, pouting and sinking into his seat for extra emphasis. This visibly surprises you by the way your eyes widen slightly and you visibly freeze in front of him. “You’ve been glaring at me from the window since it started getting dark outside and it’s starting to get annoying but I’m too tired from today to think of everything that I did today to pinpoint where I ticked you off again.” 

Your lips curl down to a frown and you bring your propped up arm back to your side, sinking down your own seat to his level. “I wasn’t glaring at you!” 

“Yes you were—” “—No, I wasn’t!” “Yes you—”

“Okay, then, if I was glaring at you like you said, it’s because I meant to ask you something.” You huff before shyly looking away, gazing out of the window again. “W-Why haven’t you...whyhaventyoutakenthatgirlsheart?”

Now, Jisung is even more confused than ever from not understanding a word you just said. Raising a curious brow, the prince nudges you by your shoulder with his own until you look back at him again, uttering a slow, “What?!” 

You inhale slowly, as if holding your embarrassment in, before repeating, “Why haven’t you taken Soonyoung’s heart?” 

“I—really? That’s what you wanted to ask?” That’s it? So I didn’t do shit? Whew...

You nod, crossing your arms and looking away. “Well, don’t act so smug now! I’m just curious, it’s powerful and worth a lot of points, after all.”

Caught off-guard, it takes Jisung a worryingly long time to answer your question. He looks down on his phone first, with his emerald ring right next to it, before glancing over to the distant LED screen at the very front of the bus, announcing the next stop. “Just because…” He trails off with a reluctant shrug, avoiding the feeling of your curious gaze. If it were any other situation, maybe involving a lower-ranking heart like a yellow, green, or even an orange one, he would be laughing at you and teasing that you’re obsessed with his count or trying to compare it with your own. “You, of all people should know…” 

But it’s a red heart, one that’s made him a bit too flustered for him to admit to anyone, even to his own brother. “I don’t know what I’ll do with it.” He answers vaguely because of this, hearing a little ‘oh’ from your side. “I already told Soonyoung over lunch that I don’t see her like that but it’s still red. Her feelings are too sincere for me and I feel like I can’t take advantage of that, not for a competition.” 

Jisung doesn’t hear any verbal response from your side after this, not even when the LED screen ahead announces that you’re nearing your stop. When he glances over to you through the window, however, he catches a glimpse of the smallest hint of a content smile on your features. 

Only when the two of you arrive at your stop, while you’re following him down the stairs down from the bus, do you nudge him on his side once more and say, “I guess that’s sweet of you. Plus, you’re actually using your head for once.” 

Your soft smile momentarily catches him off-guard, freezing him on the sidewalk, until a passerby brushes him by his shoulder and snaps him back to reality. “Y-Ya! What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

You wave your hand dismissively at him with a laugh, running off ahead to Chan’s studio. “Last one to the studio is a lousy runner and won’t get dessert!” 

“Hey! Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean? Did you just call me stupid?!” 

-

The next day, a ‘secret admirer’ leaves a red apple, a milk box, and an unsigned heart-shaped note on your usual table as you enter Math class. Though the note has your name and its message typed and printed, a simple nonverbal spell that you cast over the gifts reveal a familiar fingerprint. 

“So, who’s it from?” Jisung asks, swiftly swiping the apple from your table and taking a huge bite. “How many points are we looking at here?” 

You scoff at his action, taking the apple for yourself and biting on the opposite side. “It’s from Soonyoung.” You answer with a mischievous smile, causing your competitor to choke. When you glance over at the girl’s table, your eyes briefly turn blue to see a pinkish heart for you. “I guess you don’t want her red heart, huh? Mind if I make a pink one from her into a red for me?” 

Jisung coughs violently, thumping his fist against his chest as he recovers. “Y-Ya! Don’t you dare!” 

three out of six months 

One thing you’ve been most looking forward to in this Crown Candidacy exam, besides seeing your cousin and friends currently staying in the human world and helping with Hyunjin’s search, is getting to see your cousin’s boyfriend again. Though the rest of your family doesn’t really approve of Minho, mostly since he’s the reason why Chan renounced his duke title in the first place and why your cousin might be permanently tied to the human world in the future, you’ve taken a liking to the guy since you first met him on a short visit 2 years ago and have been looking forward to hanging out in person once more after a long while. 

Minho makes Chan the happiest you’ve ever seen him since you were kids, cooks really well, travels the world as a performing artist, and is totally cool with the idea that his boyfriend is a wizard from another realm. Plus, he catches onto magical items really quick, having adapted quickly to using your realm’s inter-world mailing system hence how you’ve been keeping in touch up until this point. You honestly don’t see any reason to hate him, even before meeting him in person. If anything, knowing that it’s Minho that’s keeping Chan from fulfilling his royal duties makes you support your cousin’s decision even more than before. 

However, you’re already halfway done with your exam and Minho is still nowhere to be seen. He initially promised you that he’ll cook you and Jisung a meal as soon as you arrived but last-minute plans in his touring schedule with a ballet company held him back abroad, postponing this plan indefinitely and making you focus more on school and helping look for Hyunjin. 

That is until you and Jisung came home from your usual Saturday grocery errands to inhale the smell of meat and mushroom soup coming from the kitchen. 

“Is Chan cooking?” Jisung raised a brow at this, closing the door behind you and walking further inside the house. “It smells nice, though. So it’s not him?” 

You roll your eyes, biting down a laugh at this surprisingly funny quip. “That’s definitely not Chan.” You affirm anyways, excitedly walking past him to the kitchen where you find the familiar back of a person stirring a big pot of soup next to Chan who’s chopping up side dishes. “Minho!” 

Jisung follows you to the kitchen and watches from the doorframe as this said Minho turns around, opening his arms out to hug you as you quickly drop your groceries on the dining table and run towards him. Next to you two, Chan stops his own work and laughs at the sight, prying you away after a moment and reminding you, “Hey, hey, Minho’s tired from his flight!”

“Tired? Then you make him cook dinner? I don’t think so!” You giggle, clutching onto Minho like a koala while the said boy pretends to shrug you off. “I was wondering when you’re coming home! You haven’t even written since I came here, you jerk!” 

“My schedule was jam-packed until the other day but I promised some magic freaks that I’ll cook them dinner so I came home as soon as I can.” Minho laughs, hugging you back and only then catching sight of a confused Jisung. “Oh, hi there! You must be Han Jisung?” 

“Y-Yeah?” Jisung nods slowly in confusion, raising one hand holding multiple eco-bags up in a wave. He hates it when he’s not in the loop of things but more importantly, he hates it when it’s you keeping him out of the loop in particular. Who’s this guy?! “Sorry, and you are?” 

“Lee Minho! I’m keeping Chan hostage here on Earth.” Minho formally introduces himself, earning him a nudge from both you and Chan. “What? Should I curtsy? I know your family and Hyunjin’s doesn’t really require it but I don’t know about the others so—” 

Oh. At this, Jisung visibly relaxes with a chuckle and finally approaches your little group, settling his own share of the groceries down on the dining table before sitting down himself. Chan then takes this as his cue to reluctantly drag you over next to Jisung while he and Minho finish cooking. “No, no, it’s cool! We’re not at home, anyway.” 

“Okay, then, cool. You guys are okay with waiting for a little bit, right? The lamb’s not fully cooked yet.” Minho explains. “I was going to make you two a meal when your exam started but I got caught up in work so—”

“Yeah it’s fine!” You agree eagerly, taking out your groceries and organizing them on the table. “We’ll just fix up the groceries.” 

Jisung side-eyes you with an incredulous look in his eyes, something Chan definitely notices as his lips quirk up into a knowing grin before whispering something to Minho. “Why are you so chirpy all of a sudden?” He asks you, helping you take out the groceries and arrange them into their respective shelves. 

“What do you mean? I’ve been chirpy since this morning.” You scoff. “Why do you even keep track? I told you not to stare at me, weirdo.”

“Um no, you weren’t. You were complaining about me breathing next to you on the bus a while ago. ‘You’re not helping me get any hearts’ or whatever it was you were rambling about a while back.” Jisung points out with a huff. “And I don’t stare, that’s you! If anything, you’re the weirdo, always up my business!”

“Well, why wouldn’t I complain? I was at the market with you all day! You don’t know how to pick good vegetables and you kept flirting with the store clerks to try and up their orange hearts to pink ones! Then, you wore that stupid perfume again when I told you already that it smells bad! Now we’re at home and you can stay the fuck away from me.” 

“Ya, you little sh—” 

Across the kitchen, Minho giggles in amusement at hearing you and Jisung bicker live for the first time. You’ve always complained about this Jisung fellow in your correspondence and he’s never had a clear grasp as to why you’re always at this boy’s neck but now that he’s meet Jisung in the flesh and is starting to hear what you two are exactly fighting about, Minho can’t help but laugh into the mushroom soup. “So this is the troublemaker who’s been bugging our Y/N.” He ends up musing out loud. “I see why you need me home now.”

“Believe me, you should’ve seen them grow up together with the other kids. Always fighting over the smallest of things, competing on who’s better, and all that.” Chan rolls his eyes in disinterest, glancing over to you and Jisung as the latter starts chasing you around the dining area with a bundle of scallions. “What you’re seeing right now is barely the tip of the iceberg, Min.”

“Reminds you a little bit of us back then, don’t you think?” 

“Ya, and which one am I supposed to be?” 

The couple glances over their shoulders to see that you’ve now successfully snatched the scallions from Jisung with your magic and have started to hit him over the head with it. This then makes Chan squint his eyes suspiciously at Minho who only chuckles. “Babe, you and Y/N are definitely related, don’t you think?” 

“Do you also want to get hit with scallions?” 

-

Though Jisung was initially wary of Minho at the start of the evening, having only heard of him vaguely from gossip among the other royal kids prior, your cousin’s boyfriend slowly and naturally transitioned over the prince’s good graces as soon as the lamb chops and mushroom soup were served along with stories of Minho’s own adventures and questions about the magical realm. Now that he’s put a name and a face to the person that people back home simply referred to as the reason why Chan left (and who he’s admittedly been blaming as well for the sudden shift in your attitude at the royal courts), Jisung now genuinely believes that the people back at home jumped to their conclusions quickly about Minho. 

Minho’s really nice, Chan is really fond of him and you clearly support the two. In return, Minho looks out for you and Chan, you in particular as the older guy proceeds to drill Jisung shamelessly with questions on whatever it is that you’ve mentioned about him in your letters. 

Jisung didn’t even know a lot of the things Minho kept rambling on about while you tried so hard to keep his mouth shut next to him by helplessly trying to cover his mouth.

“Y/N talks about you a whoooooooole lot. Like, a minor inconvenience during their royal duties then they’re quick to talk to me about it.” Minho grins playfully, dodging your attempts at shutting him up while he eats his share of the pastry dessert. “When we first met and this candidate exam thing was first brought up, they talked about the other royals briefly but they talked about you in super great detail! Oh, and Y/N was rambling a lot about how you reacted to when they confessed to you in middle school and everything, it was so funn—” 

“Minho shut up!” 

“It was really funny!” Minho pins your wrists to the table after a while, gesturing towards Chan, sitting next to Jisung across the table, who then uses his magic to switch your places. This then effectively shuts you up as your flustered expression overcomes your face upon accidentally locking eyes with Jisung right after. “But I want to know what actually happened when you rejected Y/N at your magic school? I want the full scope of what happened just so I get both sides!”

“Y-Ya!” You protest, only to be silenced by Jisung this time who laughs as he swallows a mouthful of food. “Ugh, you’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Why do you still talk about that, anyway? It was a long time ago.” Jisung chuckles, propping an elbow up on the table and resting his cheek on his palm as he glances over to you with a smirk. “God, you’re in love with me, aren’t you?” 

“No, I’m no—” “So, Minho hyung, what did Y/N tell you about that?” 

-

It was in the 7th grade, on Valentine’s Day of all days even, when you confessed your crush to Han Jisung. You actually didn’t plan any of it to happen because you just thought of it as stupid, especially at the thought that almost everything Jisung used to do back then annoyed you and made you think of him as childish. 

But Hyunjin somehow slipped you an enchanted cookie on that day as a prank after you confessed at Ryujin’s party the previous weekend that you thought that Jisung was cute sometimes (”I specifically said sometimes and it was one time. Clearly, it wasn’t me who had a problem, right?” “That still doesn’t change the fact that 12-year-old you had a crush on me, Y/N.”). He told you that it was from a batch Felix made for their baking class, bluffing about its distinct strong vanilla scent as a mistake on the younger Eastern prince’s end. 

As it then turned out, however, the cookie was laced with a potion that forcefully exposed the true color that your heart reflected towards Jisung in front of the entire cafeteria while the two of you bickered over some mishap that happened in one of your shared potion classes. Being young as he was as well and feeling embarrassed of all the passersby that looked at you both, Jisung’s fight or flight response made him visibly cringe at seeing the surprisingly pink, bordering red, heart and childishly berated you for it until the potion wore off and your ecure disappeared back into the sleeves of your robes. You ran away crying while Jisung didn’t go to school for the few days that followed in embarrassment.

“You were like 12 back then, it happens.” Minho shrugs after yours and Jisung’s messy storytelling. “And for the record, Y/N, if Chan did that to me as Jisung, I would’ve been annoyed at him too. Your rants are totally valid.” 

“I’m eating my croissants in peace.” Chan complains, slapping the younger man’s arm. “Don’t drag me into this.” 

Simultaneously, Jisung glances over to you and sees a small pout rest on your features. “Well, I don’t know, it’s not really an ‘it happens’ kind of situation if you come from our world.” You point out, glaring at Jisung when you feel him staring at you. “Especially back then. My heart was looking pink and a little reddish for Jisung at the time—ew—which gave him the power to take it if he wanted to.”

Now, this is apparently new information to Minho as he then asks, “You can do that? I thought witches only have one heart so it can’t be taken away?”

“Yeah, exactly.” You nod. “Since we don’t produce the crystal hearts as infinitely as you humans do, it could only be taken if it’s pink or a higher color. It’s the natural law in our world.”

“And if that happens, the witch could become weak, controlled by the other witch who takes their heart, or killed.” Chan quips in this time. “That’s why marriage is sort of a permanent commitment back at home and witches are more encouraged to use human ecure when performing higher-level magic.” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch in our case, though! It’s not like 12-year-old me would think of killing Y/N back then.” Jisung purses his lips into a thin line at you, unamused. “You really are a bit dramatic sometimes, you know? What would I even do with your heart?”

“You were 12, Jisung. Who knows what you were thinking back then...if you were thinking at all.” You retort immediately, turning to Minho again after. “That’s why my family’s a bit wary about you, Min, no offense. With you and Chan in a relationship, he can give up his heart to you but if you don’t reciprocate it by exchanging with one of your own, he might get weak or die.” 

This then makes Jisung turn to Minho as well, curious as to what his response would be. 

Unfazed, Minho smiles and turns lovingly to his boyfriend. “Then, aren’t you lucky I’m obsessed with you, huh?” 

“Really now?” Chan chuckles, slinging his arm over Minho’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then I guess I can stay here permanently, right?” 

You pretend to gag as you sip on your water, reminding the older guys that there are “children” in front of them. Jisung rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair at this scene, looking away at the tender display of affection across the table. The two of you don’t even have to check how the pair’s ecures reflect towards each other with your magic to know that they’re a matching bright red. 

When he looks over to you, he catches the briefest and fondest smile gracing your expression as you mumble about how “stupidly cute” Chan and Minho are being. Jisung knows he shouldn’t look, not in this moment when he sees you at a vulnerable state and you would slap him over the head if he teases you about it, but his eyes unconsciously turn green and peeks over at your ecure as it watches over your favourite cousin and his boyfriend. 

It’s a bright blue, a sign of deep respect and familial love for Chan and Minho. Jisung looks away immediately when you glance up at him curiously, forcing his eyes back to their natural color before he could accidentally see how your heart reflects to him. “What?” 

He gets it now. Why you’ve been so uptight in fulfilling your royal duties, snapping just a little more easily these days whenever he annoys you, and acting like a pushover to the elders who keep ordering you around back at home. You’ve been shouldering a lot of the responsibilities back home, both yours and the ones that Chan has left behind, all because you want your cousin to be happy in this world without worries. 

“Why were you looking at me?” You pout. “You didn’t check my—ya, Han Jisung!”

“I wasn’t looking at you like that! I was gonna ask you to pass me the cream puffs!”

You begrudgingly pass him the bowl of cream puffs, rolling your eyes before smiling at Minho and Chan again and changing the conversation to something else. “Anyway, Minho, you’re staying longer now, right?”  

- 

“I saw what you did at dinner, by the way. Y/N would beat you to a pulp if they knew you were looking into their heart, especially since we were just talking about it.” Chan speaks up after a moment of walking around Jisung’s room, tidying up the fallen music sheets on the ground and closing the curtains for the night. You’ve long stolen Minho from your cousin right after dinner hours ago to binge his tour videos and so he’s resorted to hanging out with Jisung, playing video games until the clock struck midnight.  

Jisung pouts as he tucks himself away in bed, turning to his side to face Chan as the older boy continues arranging his “messy” work table. “I looked at how it reflects for you and Minho, not at how it looks at me. Just that, swear.” He clarifies in between protesting over Chan’s actions (“It’s an organized mess!” “It’s a mess, Jisung.”) “It’s almost like your family’s sapphire when it looks at the two of you, bluer than how it looks when Y/N’s with the King and the High Queen. You’re more family to them than their own parents.”

This effectively freezes Chan in place for a moment, a small smile gracing the former duke’s features. “Of course I know that.” He replies, almost as an inaudible mumble from across the room. “That’s why it was so hard to leave at first.”

“Then why did you—?” 

“Because Y/N told me to.” Moving to the door and preparing to leave, Chan sees Jisung’s face and continues, “Believe me, I was even more conflicted than you’re being right now back then. We both know that my own siblings are too young to shoulder the job I’ll leave behind but Y/N told me that they’ll gladly handle it if it meant that I can be happy here. We argued about it a lot, I kept telling them that I can just juggle moving between the two realms, but you know how persuasive and stubborn Y/N can be.” 

The last comment makes Jisung chuckle. Of all people, he should know of it the best. “It’s just hard to argue with them.” He nods in agreement. “I heard they’re the one who got you this house and everything.” 

Chan nods, slowly putting one foot out of the door. “Y/N cares a lot, sometimes a little too much, that they end up sacrificing a lot and putting their own feelings last because of it. Since I went away, I’ve only ever been worried that they’ll just explode one day, actually, but I know you and the other kids keep them in check.” 

“I’d hardly call Y/N relaxed with me.” Jisung pouts, fiddling with his fingers nervously as he confesses this shyly. “I think they just find me annoying…” 

“Oh you definitely annoy each other but that’s just how you two are together. It’s all in good fun and that’s good, especially now that you’re going to take much more responsibilities once you go back home.” Chan notes with a shrug, briefly glancing over his shoulder as you and Minho arrive on the second floor. “Just be a little gentler with them. Night, Sung.” 

four out of six months

You know better than to expect nothing less from Lee Chaeryoung, one of the best investigators from your realm, as she helped Yeji lead Hyunjin’s search party. When you initially expected that she would finish scouting Incheon before the end of the semester, she came back with the most solid lead that anyone’s picked up since the start of the search party around Seoul with 2 months left on your time in the human world. 

Apparently, from the scouring she’s done beyond the initial parameters of the search, a few magic and non-magic folk living around the beach area have seen the Southern kingdom’s prince at a party on the night he disappeared, interacting with a strange group of people they only described by their unusually white hairs, matching snake tattoos, and icy blue eyes. What was even more interesting is that these people were still around the area when Chaeryoung visited but without any sign of Hyunjin. With this, she could only confirm that they’re also from the magical realm.

“They could only be Northwestern ogre witches, I’m sure of it.” Chan commented after hearing Chaeryoung’s report over dinner with everyone present. When Minho then asked about it, your cousin didn’t hesitate to explain, “A group of witches back home who were initially banished to the wastelands because they practiced darker arts and only collected black ecures. Lately, a lot of them have been turning up here and doing gods-know-what.” 

“But if they only want the artifact that Hyunjin recovered, why would they still keep him?” You ask, crossing your arms over the dining table as Chaeryoung showed you photos of the location she ascouted on her phone. “Hyunjin’s high-profile too, yes, but unless they want him to collect colored ecures for them, there’s no other reason to keep him captive when there are other magic folk there. Why him?” 

“Unless they have something bigger up their sleeves.” Seungmin notes with a frown, closing Chaeryoung’s phone as he grows more and more upset from across the table. When you and Jisung glance over to him curiously, he then meets your eyes and adds, “Maybe we shouldn’t let you two go with us on this.” 

“What?! Why?” Jisung is the first to instinctively speak up against this, sitting up taller in his seat. You echo the same question, albeit a little quieter when you see Chan nodding worriedly on your side. 

“I have a feeling that they might be after the two of you too from this.” Seungmin explains once Jisung calmed down a bit from his sudden outburst. “Like Y/N said, keeping Hyunjin to collect colored ecures against his will doesn’t seem like a good enough reason, at least not this long.”

“It’s timed perfectly, too, that they caught Hyunjin right before the candidacy exam.” Yeji quips in, belatedly nodding in agreement to Seungmin’s suggestion. “They might be luring you two specifically by using my brother.” 

“But that’s just a hunch for now! We don’t know th—” 

Chan’s entire disposition in a flash, slamming his hand down on the table a little too loudly and effectively shutting everyone up around the table including Minho. “That’s exactly why we can’t risk it.” He counters firmly and you know, just by the tone of your cousin’s voice, that he already has the final word. “Remember, you and Y/N are here first and foremost because you’re taking your exam. Keeping you on wraps with this search is formalities, at most. Anyway, there’s enough of us here who can look for Hyunjin. You two just stay put until we can sort this out and ensure that this problem stops interfering with the exam any further.”

When you peek over to your right to glance at Jisung’s reaction two seats away, you see him glancing back at you from the corner of his eyes before sighing in defeat. “And if they want our group separated?” 

“The house’s enchanted with protective spells. Minho and Ryujin will also stay and watch over you two while we extract Hyunjin over the weekend.” Chan notes, continuing before Jisung could complain further. “That’s final, Ji. We’ll take over from here.” 

“Don’t fret too much, Sung.” Seungmin adds comfortingly. “Anyway, if we find Hyunjin, we’ll all stay here for a few days before going back home.” 

In response, you hear Jisung slam his back on his seat hard before huffing childishly, glancing over to you as he opens his mouth. Knowing that he’ll throw a fit, you immediately shake your head, forbidding him from doing so. “Fine...” He murmurs under his breath with a sigh, knowing better than to start an argument with one of his best friends at this time. “Just—just bring Hyunjin back quickly.” 

Somehow, even when you understand where Chan’s coming from, you also feel somewhat bad for Jisung. You want to see Hyunjin too but your circumstances aren’t exactly favourable to let you be of much help. 

- 

As much as Jisung used to hate how Chan coddled you, he hates it even more now that the same behavior is directed towards him, especially in situations like this when he wants to actively help in Hyunjin’s search. The circumstances couldn’t have been more unfavorable to him now: the group finding a lead but at a time when he’s participating in an exam that has him more at risk of being targeted by creatures from the magical realm that have strayed to this world. 

On top of this, he hates how he can clearly see that you want to see Hyunjin just as much as he and everyone else does but you’re quicker to comply the moment Chan, and eventually even Yeji, put the two of you on house arrest for the weekend while the rest of the group goes to Incheon. It frustrates him to no end that you keep quietly complying to everyone else when you clearly want to do something else. And, as a result, you end up channeling your energy aggressively elsewhere much like today as you spend most of your Sunday cleaning and redecorating around the expansive house with Minho. 

“Can’t you two like, tone it down a bit?” Jisung complains for the third time this afternoon as he plays with the music software on Chan’s laptop, lifting his feet off of the coffee table in the living room when Minho passes by with a vacuum before pushing a levitating plant that hovers too close for comfort to his face. Somewhere, Ryujin has retreated outside to the garden in order to tend to more plants. “The house’s going to get thrashed after a while anyway.” 

“And why can’t you help clean?” You ask back in retort, fluffing up the pillows next to him as you occasionally glance over your shoulder to make sure that the levitating objects around the room aren’t falling over. “If you’re just going to complain while we’re cleaning here, you can just go up to your room since we’re done upstairs, anyway.” 

Jisung pouts, crawling over to the other side of the sofa anyway when you gesture for him to move. “The sunlight’s better here at this time.” He points to the glass windows. “Just finish up quickly already.” 

“If you want to get some sun, you can help Ryujin outside.” You poke back, moving over to the sofa across the coffee table. As you move, the hovering plant pots slowly move to where you want to relocate them to, one moving next to the sofa almost hitting Jisung in the face once more with its leaves. “Make yourself useful, Jisung.” 

The witch in question scoffs, closing Chan’s laptop and finally planting his feet back on the floor to a stand. Jisung also hates that tone you use when you order him around because it always makes him do whatever you ask without fail. “Fine, I’m going outside.” He grumbles, trudging to the direction of the back door leading outside and making sure to close the door with a loud thud. 

Out in the gardens, Ryujin is busy reviving dried up leaves and flowers while a few watering cans go around to water the trees and bushes. Upon seeing Jisung walking down the mini stairs with a pout and furrowed brows, the younger witch can’t help but laugh, “Y/N banished you outside?” 

“I’m supposed to help you but you don’t even look like you need help at all.” The prince continues to grumble, setting himself down on a foldable chair and crossing his bare arms over his chest. “If I do help, I might actually kill the plants. You already know how I’m terrible I am at healing magic.” 

Ryujin acknowledges with a hum, turning her attention back to Chan’s mini garden of camellias. “Just sunbathe, look around or whatever, I can handle this.” She assures with a smile. “I won’t tell Y/N too, don’t worry.” 

“I think I’ll take you up on that looking around thing later.” Jisung sighs, sinking into his seat and closing his eyes. “I’ll nap for now.” 

- 

“He just does whatever you say, huh?” Minho points out to you as soon as you finish cleaning the living room, tiredly taking up the empty space next to you on the couch with two pillows hugged close to his chest. When you open your mouth to protest, “I know I said it’s amusing when you two bicker over stupid things but it’s actually really nice and quiet when you two reach compromise like this. So peaceful.” 

“He just knows when to not mess with me. Don’t exaggerate it.” You scoff at this, pushing Minho away from you as you lift your legs up to the coffee table. “He knows that I feel the need to be busy when I’m on edge like this but he was in the way. The least he could do is either be useful around the house too or just stay out of my sight for a while.” 

“Don’t be too worried, I’m sure they’re all being careful and getting to Hyunjin soon.” Minho assures you with a small smile, waving his human world phone in front of you as it displays a flurry of messages from Chan. “If it makes you feel better, your cousin’s been asking me about you and Jisung as much as he’s been updating me of what’s happening.”

You frown at this, making Minho chuckle. “He’s been talking to you but not to me? I’m his cousin!” 

“He knows you’re redecorating his house in 50 different styles while you wait for him so he just asks about you through me. Don’t get it twisted, Y/N.” The older boy continues laughing, carefully shoving a pillow away from his face when you levitate it closer to him. “Anyway, they said that they’ve confirmed that the ogres are still staying at the beach resort so they’re planning to get to them tonight and confirm if they really took Hyunjin.”

Your expression visibly shifts more positively, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape. “Really?” 

“If things go smoothly, everyone, including Hyunjin, would be home really soon. Until then, Chan has asked me to make sure that you and Jisung don’t kill each other or go outside without permission.” 

You shove Minho once more at the last statement, mustering up a laugh this time. “Hey, we’re not that childish.” You point out with a pout before another thought crosses your mind. “Oh, right, I can tell Jisung, right? I mean, it’s just an update anyway.” 

“Yeah, go ahead.” Minho nods, poking you on your side to get you to stand up. “It’s also getting dark out, call Ryujin in too so we can reheat some leftovers for dinner.” 

You scoff at the thought of leftovers for dinner, standing up anyway and heading outside where the sun has indeed set on the horizon. As you walk down the steps leading down to the backyard, you easily spot Ryujin by the back gate as she flirts with one of your neighbors who holds an orange heart up her sleeve but it takes you a moment to see Jisung fast asleep under one of the outdoor umbrellas. 

“Ryujin!” You call for your friend, biting down your lip when the girl she’s been flirting with awkwardly looks away and your friend in question consequently glares at you for interrupting her. “Where’s Jisung?” 

“There.” Ryujin quickly points towards the outdoor umbrellas on the far corner of the backyard before turning her gaze back on your neighbor whose heart immediately turns a shy pink at this. 

You roll your eyes at this with a chuckle before heading over to Jisung, finding him snoring lightly and snuggling into a pillow despite the cold evening breeze. He doesn’t budge an inch when you call his name or poke his side, stirring only when you slap his cheek gently awake by instinctively swatting your hand away and mumbling a string of curses for you to go away. “What?!” 

“It’s starting to get cold out here. Come on, we’re eating dinner in a while.” You respond, taking the pillow from him and grabbing him by the arm to help him stand up. When he doesn’t budge, you resort to adjusting his hoodie at least so he doesn’t freeze himself to death. “Minho also said that Chan’s been texting him. Everyone’s okay so far and they’ll interrogate the ogres tonight, maybe even get Hyunjin if they really took him.” 

Jisung finally springs awake at this, jumping to a stand in surprise. “What? Really? Is there—well, is there anything else?” He asks quickly, stumbling over his words in shock while you drag him back inside. 

Ryujin follows along after a while, running to the kitchen to check what you’re having for dinner. You and Jisung walk a little slower as he rubs his eyes from his surprisingly long nap next to you, somehow not making a fuss this time about your linked arms. 

“Sadly, that’s only what I got from Minho a while back so I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning for anything new.” You answer his previous question as you head to the kitchen where Ryujin and Minho reheat leftovers and make some new side dishes. When you see Jisung’s ears perk up slightly at your words, you quickly add, “Don’t try staying up late just for an update. You should get some more sleep after dinner so you don’t look like a ghost when we see Hyunjin again.” 

He scoffs at this, sitting down on the dining table and dragging you along with him on the adjacent seat. “How can I sleep if I know that we’re so close to seeing Hyunjin again after months? I’ll stay up late if I want to!”

“And I’ll kill you two if you stay up all night then get all cranky tomorrow when you have to get to class.” Minho cuts you off before you could even speak, setting the dishes down on the table. “Okay, eat up!” 

“That was him, not me.” You shrug at Jisung’s semi-permanent pout with a chuckle, receiving a plate and utensils before thanking Minho for the food. “Eat up, Ji.” 

You don’t even have to glance back over to his direction to know that he has his usual determined look plastered over his face again. Because of the new update on Hyunjin’s situation, he’s suddenly more alert now that he might actually take you up on staying awake the entire night. 

-

“Jisung, are you awake?” 

Jisung doesn’t really expect you to hold true to your word and check up on him at 3 AM when Ryujin and Minho have both gone to sleep. You suddenly knock on his door while he’s in the middle of a song he’s been trying to write on his guitar lately, startling the poor boy who almost falls off of the window and causes a big fuss about it. 

“Are you okay in there?” You ask worriedly from outside after knocking for the 4th time, the doorknob clicking gently after. When only shuffles reach your ear on the other side, you immediately add, “Hey, I’m coming in!” 

Jisung doesn’t even have time to protest, catching a glimpse of you going in and closing the door as a tray of mugs trails behind you. Quickly hiding the guitar by the curtains, he clumsily scrambles up to a stand and retrieves the tray from the air, “H-Hi! You made...tea?” 

“Those two mugs are for me.” You pretend to swat his hand away jokingly, joining him on the small balcony on the other side of his window. Spotting his guitar hidden haphazardly on the side, you’re quick to pick it up and slide it over your lap while Jisung’s occupied with the tea, strumming a few chords. Only then, do you also notice his music sheets strewn across the balcony, all labelled with the word ‘sunshine.’ “I didn’t know you brought this along. It still plays good, I suppose, but do you still play badly?” 

Jisung scowls at you as he sets the tray down next to his notebook, sitting down criss cross once more before swiftly snatching the guitar from your hands. “I play better than you, at least.” Ignoring your protests, he then strums a few chords of his own and continues, “Why are you still awake, anyway? Don’t you have a 9 AM later?” 

When he turns to you, he sees you taking a sip of your tea first before answering, “I feel like ditching,” a statement he’s definitely never heard from you before by the way his eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t act so surprised! Uni’s just a cover and a way to get hearts while we’re here in the human world, anyway. Since everyone could be here later and there’s a possibility that we’ll see Hyunjin again with them, I wouldn’t want to miss a second of him back.” 

“Don’t tell me, am I rubbing off on you?” Jisung snickers playfully. Deep inside, however, he’s undoubtedly a little impressed. After all, it’s been a while since he’s seen you so carefree outside of royal duties. “This is bad. We’re still competing, you know!”

“Tch, don’t push it. My current count’s quite high so I’m not that worried.” You shake your head in disbelief, leaning back against the windowsill and gazing ahead to the brightly-lit city. “It’s just that it’s been 5 months since Hyunjin’s gone missing and Yeji started combing every inch of Seoul, only to find a lead out in Incheon. I want to see him as much as you do.” 

Jisung nods slowly in agreement, picking up the second mug of tea and taking a sip. It’s chocolate matcha, the flavour you always craved on elementary school field trips back in the magical realm whenever you missed home or so Felix once said. “It’s been that long, huh? And we’ve been here taking our exam for 4 months now.” He muses out loud between sips of tea, warming him up in an instant against the unusually cold night. “Time flies a little weirder when you’re on the other side of the moon, don’t you think?” 

“I think you’ve just been having too much fun flirting with humans.” You point out, gesturing over to his emerald ring. Over the months, you’ve noticed that the vessels grow warmer every time you reach a thousand points which is roughly every 100 hearts or so. In the rare moments these days that Jisung’s ring has accidentally brushed against your skin, usually at the bus or when passing dishes along, the stone feels intimidatingly hot and almost burning. “How much do you have already?” 

“Enough to win against you.” He teases playfully as he hums along to his song, making you scoff. “I mean, it’s been fun. Gaining a lot of ecure here has made my magic feel more powerful but, still, I can’t help but think sometimes that this whole exam would’ve been fun if the 4 of us were complete.” 

You take another sip of your tea, listening along to Jisung’s humming. “If Hyunjin didn’t disappear beforehand and scared off Lia and her parents from letting her compete...yeah, I guess it would’ve been much more fun if we’re all competing together and the exam duration was 1 year like normal.” Thinking about it more, you end up chuckling at imagining how this whole exam could’ve gone differently. “But, at the same time, it’s been fun competing with you so far.” 

“Going soft on me?” He raises a brow with a smirk. “I know we’ve been stuck to each other like glue for the past months but you should look out for that heart of yours, it might turn pink for me again.”

“I mean you’ve put up a fight so far. It’s a professional compliment, don’t exaggerate it.” You roll your eyes with a slight snicker, making him laugh. You purposely ignore his last comment, though, knowing that he wouldn’t really look into your feelings for him, anything but that. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going soft on me. Seungmin told me about the purple hearts.” 

“He what?!” Jisung exclaims, his smug expression instantly morphing into panic as he almost throws his guitar off of the balcony. “Wait, I can explain!” 

You shake your head and wave your hand dismissively. “No, you don’t have to! I understand.” You assure with a laugh, placing your hand on his nearest shoulder and making him sit back down when he wobbles over the messy and narrow space. “Though, yeah, I probably would’ve yelled at you if Seungmin told me any earlier but it’s all said and done now, anyway. I appreciate it, actually.” 

“A lot of guys were being creeps to you so I thought...I got protective, okay? Ryujin and Yeji were getting stares too so even Seungmin would do the same thing to protect them.” Jisung pouts. “I know we’re in a competition and we’re supposed to rake up a bunch of hearts but your dignity’s much more important than some stupid crown...” 

“I know, and I also know that you would’ve done it for Lia if she were here.” You nod understandingly, mustering up a small appreciative smile. Jisung can be sweet if he wants to, you conclude internally. “Ah, seriously, just imagine if there was 4 of us competing. This would’ve been much more fun and less stressful. You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you when you wanted to race to the moon.” 

“Tch, Hyunjin would’ve taken all of the red ecures for himself.” Jisung adds, sharing in your quiet laughs now that the conversation’s shifted once more. “Much like how he charms everyone back home. He might even win, like he always does in every challenge the elders give us. He’s just the favourite!” 

“I can’t wait for him to come home safely. He’s been gone for too long.” You sigh against your tea, tiredly adjusting to the uncomfortable space of the window. Seeing this from the corner of his eyes, Jisung doesn’t hesitate to pass you a pillow and nearby blankets this time which you’re more than grateful for. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over and go home, just visit again when I feel like it.” 

“Me too. I can’t wait to see him.” Jisung sighs, peering down onto the balcony as he adjusts his guitar on his lap. “And I can’t wait to go home, too.” 

And just then, the car that Chan used to drive everyone over to Incheon materializes at the front porch, spewing out Chan, your friends, and Hyunjin who’s supported by Seungmin and Yeji.

five out of six months 

Hyunjin sports distinctly black cuts and gashes across his arms and legs when you greet the group in front of the house, similar to the ones Chan and Changbin also sported one time when the two also had an encounter with dark magic. Limping on his right leg and supported by his arms, Yeji and Seungmin used their magic to lift him over to the nearest sofa once they’ve reached the other side of Chan’s protective spell from the front door while the rest of the group crash into the vast expanse of the living room. 

“I tried healing him as much as I can so it’s easier for you and Ryujin.” Seungmin huffs, tiredly sitting down on the ground by the coffee table. “He’s mostly fine, just exposed to a lot of dark magic.” 

“And you guys? Are you okay? Is anyone else hurt?” You ask worriedly, darting your eyes over to Chan, Yeji, and Chaeryoung who all individually affirm to you that they’re not nursing any big injuries. “What happened?” 

At that moment, Jisung arrives in the living room with a half-sleepy Minho and a frantically running Ryujin who immediately makes a beeline to Hyunjin and Yeji. Standing next to you, he echoes the exact same question to Seungmin. “What happened? Is Hyunjin going to be okay?” 

You kneel down in front of Hyunjin, right next to Ryujin, and examine the cuts and gashes. Meanwhile, Jisung sits next to Seungmin while Minho runs over to Chan. “Turns out, they’ve been keeping Hyunjin to try and get him to activate the artifact.” Seungmin answers Jisung’s question after a moment, taking out the stolen compass that Hyunjin was supposed to retrieve from this world. “Then they heard that you and Jisung were going to proceed with the exam. So they tried using him as bait as well but the protective spells the elders casted on you two made it hard for them to find you even when they planned to separate our group.” 

“We got there before they could manipulate my brother into it with dark magic.” Yeji continues tiredly in between casting her own spells, making her smaller wounds and a sprained ankle disappear. “They were quite hostile but we managed. It’s just that Hyunjin still hasn’t woken up since we took him.” 

“Then aren’t you glad we stayed at home, Ji?” You mumbled under your breath as you and Ryujin casted spells to identify the magic needed to heal the half-conscious Hyunjin’s injuries. “Hyunjin’s probably not waking up because of exposure. We’ll have to determine just how much dark magic those witches used.” 

Behind you, Jisung grumbles stubbornly at your comment. “So, is Hyunjin okay? What’s the diagnosis?”

Hovering your hand over Hyunjin’s chest, his heart suddenly reflects a horrifying black over your magic and making yours and Ryujin’s eyes widen. “Oh no…” 

“What?” Suddenly, Jisung’s next to you and peering over Hyunjin’s ecure. “What the hell? Why is his heart black?” 

Ryujin then places her hands over Hyunjin’s forehead, going through his fresher memories as her eyes turn a bright blue. “He’s...it’s an ancient spell, a really powerful one.” She eventually concludes, turning to Chan after. “Chan, do you think you can take a look at this?” 

Across the room, Chan stands up with Minho’s help, having just treated a healing cut on his leg, and sits on Ryujin’s other side to briefly access the same memories. “The three of us can do it,” He gestures to you and Ryujin with pursed lips. “But it’ll take hours and a whole lot of ecure. We’ll need to purify his heart with an equally powerful spell.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Jisung immediately turn to you in worry, as if he already knows what you’re going to say. “Y/N, don’t—”

But you’re already reaching for your locket, forcing the stone to reveal its contents. “I can give up mine. It’ll save you both your energies and time.” You assure, tuning out Jisung’s protests.

“A-Are you sure?” Ryujin asks worriedly, echoing Jisung’s concerns. Next to her, Chan shakes his head at you in equal concern. “Y/N, these are your ecures for the candidacy exam, you can’t just—not right now when you’re almost do—”

“That’s not important right now. What’s important is that we save Hyunjin.” You nod without any hesitation. “Anyway, I have enough for both purifying Hyunjin’s heart and healing his wounds. It’s fine.” 

You then take out more hearts from your locket, the clumped crystals of oranges, greens, pinks, and reds hovering above Hyunjin as he continues lulling in and out of consciousness and his body tries rejecting the prior spells Yeji casted to help him heal. Before you could fully empty out the vessel, however, Jisung’s hand with his emerald ring flies over yours to stop you. “Wait!” He exclaims, startling you, Ryujin, and Chan. “I’ll give up some of mine too. Don’t empty yours out.”

“Ji—” 

“—Y/N.” He snaps frustratingly, raising his voice and confusing you further. “Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.” 

This seems to effectively catch you off-guard. Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to stop you, not letting your hand go while he summons his own collected hearts out from his ring and firmly making sure that you don’t argue with him further until Chan has reluctantly made sure that you have enough ecures to convert into magic. Even then, he doesn’t let you go by your hand and instead moves his over to your free hand while Chan instructs you and Ryujin on how to purify a black heart. 

“J-Jisung.” You call for him once your initial annoyance of him stopping you has died down, eyes widening when he glances back at you with worry. “I need my two hands.” 

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He lets go of your hand immediately, keeping his hands down on his lap before leaving the three of you to check on Seungmin, Yeji, and Chaeryoung. “Sorry…”

You cough out awkwardly as he leaves, glaring at Ryujin when she musters up a teasing smile despite your current predicament. 

“He’s right, you know.” Chan comments after a while, instructing you the following spells while the dark color of Hyunjin’s ecure fades to a glowing white. 

“Don’t start.” When you send a glare over your own cousin’s way, however, he quickly drops the subject with a shrug. 

Purifying a darkened heart, as it turns out, lasts until the very break of dawn as the three of you exhaust the ecures you and Jisung have put out to heal Hyunjin. As time ticks by agonizingly slow for Hyunjin who could only lay back on the sofa and absorb all of your energies to heal himself, Minho eventually gets everyone to clear the living room and sleep in the much more comfortable guest rooms after making sure that no one is greatly injured before hurling himself to the kitchen and make breakfast. 

But you see Jisung stay from the corner of your eye, taking up space on your opposite side to steal glances at you or comfort Hyunjin. From the way his eyebrows furrow over his sleepy eyes and how he refuses to leave even when you awkwardly tell him off, you could tell that he too can’t make out your previous exchange. 

“—Y/N. Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.” You know that he acted the way he did because it was Hyunjin that you were trying to save, one of his best friends. But the way he sounded so angry, the way he snapped at you in the spur of the moment, a small part of your thoughts wants to make you think that he had other reasons for doing what he did. 

“Hyunjin? How are you feeling?” Chan asks after 2 hours of nonstop spellcasting, halting you and Ryujin in your steps after. “Can you sit up?” 

Your eyes turn blue at the same time you see Jisung’s turn green, surveying Hyunjin’s heart for any hints of leftover dark magic. Meanwhile, Hyunjin struggles to sit up with Jisung’s help, tiredly groaning under his breath. “Much b-better.” He manages to stumble out after a moment, mustering up a small smile despite the dizzying and overwhelming fel. “Thanks, you guys.” 

You sigh in relief, resting your back against the coffee table behind you before nodding. “Finally…” 

“Come on, Hyunnie, I’ll move you upstairs.” Chan volunteers, standing up from his position on the floor and briefly stretching his arms out. Turning to you, Ryujin, and Jisung, he then adds, “You guys get some rest too. Just skip for today and tomorrow. I’ll write to everyone back home.” 

You don’t even argue against your cousin this time, finding yourself nodding when he gives you the same look he always does whenever you intend on shouldering some work for him. Standing up from the floor, you, Ryujin, and Jisung then head upstairs in silence. 

The entire walk, you feel Jisung stealing glances over to you but you decide to not act on it, shaking your head when he suddenly opens his mouth to speak before the two of you could go on your separate ways. 

“Y/N, wait—” “Goodnight, Jisung.” 

-

Growing up, Jisung has always relied on two people in helping him through the crisis of accidentally going too far with you: Chan and Felix. Chan, obviously, because he’s your cousin and the only other friend he has who harbors an inkling of a braincell and Felix because he’s everyone’s favourite and he knows the kinds of snacks that get on your good graces. These moments when he’s actually pushed your buttons too far are rare (as much as the two of you like to express your annoyance over each other, you’ve actually come to understand that this is just your dynamic growing up), but Jisung personally keeps a list of steps to do in situations like this anyway. Now more than ever, it seems, because suddenly, it feels weird and awkward being around each other—and not the usual kind. 

But as fate would have it, Chan is busy working out how to safely get Hyunjin home and explaining to the elders what happened. If normally Jisung would be asking Chan first about you and what he could say when he confronts you, this time he’s asking all of them to his twin brother who’s more than willing to listen (after listening to Yeji, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung gossip everything to him prior, of course).

“Why did you do that anyway?” Felix points out on the other side of the call, snuggling into a pillow as night falls on both realms. It’s been 3 days since Hyunjin returned and both the house and the officials back at home have been busy arranging his return with Yeji, Seungmin, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung; only allowing for the twins to talk in the late hours of the night. “And you said it angrily too from what Ryujin told me. No offense, bro, I’d feel a little weird if you raised your voice at me, too, then offered up half of your collection on their behalf.” 

Jisung groans in frustration, running his hand through his hair as he shuffles uncomfortably around his bed sheets. “I don’t know, it’s just...I was thinking of a lot of things.” 

“Like what?” 

“This candidacy exam, what Chan told me beforehand, Hyunjin, Y/N…” The older twin purses his lips, taking his eyes away from Felix to gaze down at his hands. The emerald ring is much cooler now after losing ecure but somehow, it feels heavy on Jisung’s ring finger. “I thought that it’d be unfair if they lose all of their ecure at this point in the race, trying to save Hyunjin, then the elders might not be too pleased about it when we return. But most importantly, I thought about what Chan told me when Minho first arrived, about how Y/N’s always jumping at every opportunity to help other people without thinking too much of themself. I was right there with my own vessel of hearts for them to use and if I just let them empty out theirs, then I’d be letting them get the short end of the stick in the long run again.” 

Felix nods along understandingly at his brother’s words, all the while trying to hide a smile behind his hand. So Yeji was right! “So why did you call me, then? You seem to have your reasons sorted out, just tell Y/N what you told me.” He shrugs after Jisung’s extensive speech, giggling at the dramatic reaction that he receives from his brother after. “I know you guys aren’t those emotional kinds of people to each other but you said so yourself that Y/N’s been quieter these days and that it’s been eating at your conscience. I say you just go for it and tell them how you feel.” 

“I’m not you, Lix. Y/N’s going to laugh at me.” Jisung pouts helplessly. “I can’t just tell them that.” 

“You’re so dramatic! It just implies that you care about Y/N like a decent human being. Anyone in your situation who knows what you know about them would’ve been considerate enough to do the same thing.” Felix argues back, rubbing his temples at how the older boy’s acting. “Don’t get it twisted, brother...unless you want it to, of course.” 

“Ya, and what’s that supposed to mean?!” 

“Figure it out yourself.” Felix sticks his tongue out teasingly before laughing and waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, Yeji told me that Y/N’s been craving blueberry pancakes lately. You can just make them right now and give it tomorrow so you don’t have to go out.” 

“If anything, I want to leave the house right now and never come back.” Jisung grumbles back in frustration before sighing in defeat. “For the first time, I can’t believe you’re no help at all, Lix. I’m hanging up.” 

“Tch, you just can’t handle the truth, Sung. Anyway, I have to go too, mom and dad are asking me to come to this thing. I’ll update you on it later! Love you! Bye!” Felix then waves to the call one last time before hanging up, leaving Jisung in the uncomfortable silence of his room. 

Jisung sighs against the heavy blankets, throwing his phone to the other side of the mattress before ultimately deciding on standing up and heading to your room across the hall. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, it’s not like I like them or anything like that! Nothing to worry about! Let’s not get it twisted. 

When he opens the door, however, the first person he unexpectedly sees outside the hallways is you just as you close the door behind your own room. “Y/N!” He ends up blurting out loud in the moment, catching your attention with wide eyes. Not knowing what else to say, the first thought that comes to mind is, “Are you going to Hyunjin’s room?” 

You furrow your brows in confusion, shaking your head slowly. “No, I’m going to the kitchen?” 

“O-Oh.” He runs his hand through his hair once more in nervousness, nodding along and hiding the heat rising up his neck in embarrassment. “Well, I’m going there too. Mind if I join you?” 

You simply nod in response, walking down the end of the hallway with him in relative silence. He hasn’t seen you much since Hyunjin’s arrived either since you spent most of your time checking your mutual friend for his condition and brewing tea. The dramatic gears in Jisung’s head would like to think that it’s just pure convenience. 

“So, what did you and Felix talk about?” “How’s Hyunjin?” 

Jisung glances over to you on his right just as you mirror his actions, the gesture somehow making him flustered this time around as he’s quick to look away. “S-Sorry. Um, we just—talked about how things are back home.” He shrugs in his best feigned nonchalance, mentally cringing at how visibly awkward he looks as the two of you go down the stairs anyway. Not that it’s a lie, anyway, he and Felix did talk about other topics besides you. “Everything’s pretty busy back home since the elders are talking about how Hyunjin coming back is going to affect the exam now.” 

“Oh.” You nod along almost absentmindedly. “That’s...yeah, I’ve heard about it too. It’s pretty hectic on my mom’s end right now.” 

“So...how’s Hyunjin?” Jisung chimes in almost a little too quickly, feeling even more awkward that he accidentally brought up your candidacy exam again. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You purposely pretend to not notice anyway, answering his questions carefully as you approach a curve into the spiral staircase. “He’s regaining his strength at least. Still on bedrest but he should be okay by the weekend when Changbin fetches him and the others.” The two of you then pass through the living room to get to the kitchen, finding Minho and Chan cuddled up on one of the sofas as they watch a movie on the television. 

The kitchen, on the other hand, is deserted when you turn on the lights which Jisung internally thanks every guest in the house for before taking a deep breath. “About what I said back then, by the way…” He starts carefully, catching your attention before you could even detach yourself from him to open the nearby fridge. You freeze a few steps ahead of him, making the poor boy gulp nervously. “Um, I’m sorry that I raised my voice at you. I shouldn’t have done that, even when I was stressing out.” 

Much like when he actually did raise his voice, you momentarily freeze in your spot before eventually shaking your head reassuringly and moving over to the fridge. “It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize for that.” You add with a small smile, taking out the fruit bowl from the fridge. “Is that why you’ve been quiet these past days? It’s okay, really.” 

“I haven’t been—it’s you who’s—” Jisung stops himself halfway before he could even start another argument, biting down his lip before shaking his head. Walking over to the stove area, he then opens a few cabinets in search of the pancake mix while you shuffle around the area behind him. “A little, yeah. It’s just that it looked like it bothered you so it bothered me too.”

When Jisung then glances over his shoulder, he sees you approaching with the fruit bowl hugged close to your chest. “I thought about it a few times. After that, I just thought that you were bothered so I couldn’t talk to you after.” You explain slowly, voice growing louder as you set the bowl next to him. In the dim lights of the kitchen, he suddenly can’t tell if you’re lying or not. “But it’s all good now. Are you making pancakes?” 

Jisung nods sheepishly, finally finding the pancake mix in the deeper crevices of the cabinet and taking it out with a pan and spatula from the adjacent cabinet. “No, but you have to know that—that—”

“Hm? What?” You raise your brows curiously, taking the pan and spatula for him before proceeding to the stove and twisting the knobs to preheat. 

“You’re not letting me finish.” Jisung points out with a feigned disapproving situation while quickly preparing the pancake mix, one which you somehow find amusing enough to laugh at. “Come on, don’t laugh, my twin made me say a bunch of things then coerced me into telling you so I’d—”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“—So, I appreciate it if you’d lis—wait, you know?!” His feigned expression then turns into one of surprise once more as you nod and break into giggles. “W-What?!” 

“You were being really loud, Hyunjin was even complaining to me from the next room by phone that he can’t sleep because of you.” You chuckle in amusement, nudging him by the arm when you notice that he’s slowed down his mixing. “He said something about you complaining to Felix about something or whatever. I don’t know, I was on a call with Lia.” 

“Then why did you—? So, you just came out here for pancakes?!” 

“No! I wanted to hear what you were going to say! I didn’t hear any word besides the pancakes, I swear...well, not clearly at least.” 

By now, all of the awkwardness has immediately dissipated as Jisung stops mixing the pancake mix altogether to turn to you and cross his arms. “You’re unbelievable.” He pretends to roll his eyes and scoff at you, earning him a glare.  You then swipe the pancake mix from his hands, pouring them into the pan in big circles. “And you still have the audacity to make me do this pancake mix.” 

“Well, you’re already mixing it so might as well.” You shrug with a knowing smile before nudging him again by the handle of the spatula. “Now, go on, what were you going to say?” 

Jisung shoots you one last incredulous look but you effectively counter it by encouraging him, promising that you “won’t laugh.” “Ah, well...I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t go all out wasting all of your collected hearts at this point, not when we’re almost done with the exam.” He blurts out, gazing down and fiddling with the fruit bowl while you take spoonfuls of blueberries from it to mix with the pancakes. “I want to win but it won’t be fun if your tally suddenly drops, right?” 

When he looks up, you’re raising your brow at his last comment as you make more pancakes. “I mean, I know you want to do what’s best for everyone but you have to look out for yourself too. Geez.” With a sigh, he then corrects which makes you nod in agreement. “A-And I guess lean on us too. We’re your family and friends, don’t shoulder all of the work for us all the time.” 

“I doubt I can lean on you.” You tease, flipping through your second batch of pancakes to cook. When Jisung sends a glare your way, you simply stick your tongue out at him. “Kidding.”  

“I get all emotional and all you say is that you doubt you can lean on me. Unbelievable…” Jisung scoffs, stuffing his mouth with more blueberries in feigned annoyance. 

The blueberry-filled pancakes are all eventually set on a plate you find on your opposite side, stacked up as a tall tower leaning on one side. Carefully passing Jisung the plate, you then twist the stove’s knobs off and reply, “You also made me cook the pancakes you wanted to make for me so I think that makes us even.” 

“Y/N!” He whines between mouthfuls of blueberries as you move around him to transfer the pan and spatula to the sink. 

You sigh in defeat, chuckling when you meet gazes once more and see him sulking with his cheeks full. “Right, right, I’m sorry!” You then beckon him over to the dining table, taking the fruit bowl on his side. “A-And...you know, thank you for that. We’re all good now, right?” 

“If you are.” 

“Definitely. Want to eat with me? I still owe you that meal from our first day.” 

six out of six months

Your mother as well as the high jury of elders from back home eventually proposed that you and Jisung finish your Crown Candidacy exam while Hyunjin, should he eventually announce that he wants to participate as well in the incoming 6 months, do his under stricter supervision in the following year. This ensures fairness in your situations, that yours and Jisung’s efforts aren’t wasted in the past 5 months while also thinking of Hyunjin who wasn’t around in time for the traditional schedule of the exam. When Hyunjin was escorted home by Changbin and Felix, however, he briefly hinted towards a plan on refusing the candidacy and the exam. He left with the others before you or Jisung could even ask him about it. 

Regardless, you and your sole competitor easily fall back into the race as soon as Hyunjin, Yeji, Seungmin, and Chaeryoung have settled their business in the human world and went home, returning to university over a week later to regain the ecures that you lost. Not that it’s suddenly harder, anyway. Timely as it is, an announcement for a school festival at the end of the month has Jisung signing up to perform while you join the organizing committee to spend more time with your human friends. 

In the time that you’ve spent in the human world, you’ve made many genuine friends beyond collecting their ecure for your exam, especially in your classmates Yuna and Jeongin. Though they don’t know about your true nature, the two have unknowingly aided you a lot in your mission by accompanying you through the different activities around university. 

Yuna, in particular, was even the one who first mentioned the school festival to you, encouraging you to join the events committee with her and invite Jisung to perform. “It’s free backstage passes and we can see all of the artists up close!” She sighed dreamily on the day she showed you the gold and red poster that she picked up from the department bulletin board. “And come on, you’re really good at organizing stuff! We should do it together!”

And more hearts to collect, you thought to yourself when you accepted and attended the orientation.

And more hearts it was, indeed, as you spend the next 3 weeks meeting people from different colleges as you and Yuna are assigned to helping organize the music performance for the end of the festival. With your previous experience fulfilling your duties back at home, it’s unsurprisingly easier for you to juggle the work assigned to you—contacting students to perform, arranging the program flow, and turning the university football field into a makeshift mini concert stadium—with socializing and fulfilling your original mission of collecting hearts. 

Across from your room at home, on the other hand, Jisung has been busy spending the same time making his own music to perform at the music festival. You invited him to perform some time after starting your work with the festival committee—well, your friends insisted that you invite him and Chan after finding out that the famous DJ, CB97, is your cousin and that you and the “College of Psychology Cutie” commute home together (“Don’t tell me...are you guys secretly dating?!” Yuna had shamelessly asked during one of your meetings, to which you had to smack your hand over her mouth and improvise a cover story for you and Jisung that you live in the same neighbourhood). 

Jisung accepted at the thought that he could garner a huge crowd of hearts from this opportunity, cooping himself up in his room right after the following days that followed to complete his 15-minute set. Ever since, all you’ve heard coming from his room in the middle of the night would be guitar strums, drum loops, and the faintest hints of Jisung’s voice singing along to freestyle raps and lines. 

He mostly sang about love, of all things; something you, Minho, and Chan immediately noticed in the next 3 Friday nights that the three of you would be huddled in the living room to watch a movie, only to hear Jisung repeating lines as if he was talking to someone in Chan’s home studio. You wanted to ask about it out of pure curiosity, and just the general worry that he might not be looking after his heart while finishing your exam after all, but decided against it in favor of waiting for the final product at the music festival.

Fortunately, the month somehow went by in almost a flash as you and Jisung both got busy preparing and collecting more hearts on the side. Before you know it, it was the afternoon of the music festival and Felix is suddenly back in the human realm to accompany you and Minho to the school festival. 

“So, did he tell you what he prepared for tonight?” Felix asks you as the three of you walk around the festival grounds. Over the course of 3 weeks, you and a large team of student volunteers have managed to haul in food stalls, arcade booths, and rides from the quad all the way to the football field for this festival, amenities which you yourself haven’t tried yet because of your busy schedule but Felix and Minho have both been so overwhelmingly excited to check out even on the bus trip to your university. 

In response to the prince’s answer, you shake your head with a small pout. “I just hear him all over the house and I didn’t really want to pry if he didn't want to tell me anything.” You point out, the two of you suddenly changing the course of your mindless walk as Minho points to a crossbow shoot booth. “Why? Doesn’t he tell you what he’s been working on?” 

“No! He stops whatever he’s doing whenever we call, even when I ask him to play just a little bit of his work.” Felix is quick to mirror your pout, only for it to disappear when Minho jokes that the two of you help him cheat in the booth as he picks up a crossbow. “I thought since you guys are living together, you’d know better than me.” 

“Ah, you kids just wait until Jisung and Chan perform later.” Minho dismisses your concerns, holding the fake crossbow up properly while the staff manning the booth prepares the targets on the other side. “Now, help me win Chan a giant wolf.” 

You roll your eyes at Minho, shrugging at Felix. “I guess he’s right. Let’s just help Minho get a giant wolf first.” 

-

Chan and Jisung arrive at university 10 minutes before the music festival from Chan’s studio halfway across the city, initially unable to find you in the crowd of organizers as they set up backstage with Yuna and Jeongin’s help until you call Chan late that you’re “babysitting” Minho and Felix. 

“They’ve somehow teamed up and have been competing with the rigged booths since we arrived.” You explained over the voice call, the distant sounds of Minho and Felix yelling while tossing metal rings around almost muffling your own. “I’ll be on my way in a while as soon as Minho leaves the ring toss alone but Yuna and Jeongin are there. Just ask them if you guys need anyth—oh my gods, Felix, you won another plushie? That’s so cool! Wait, I’m on a call with Chan!—uh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second!” 

The commotion on your end makes the two boys laugh, even as you bid your goodbyes and end the call, but especially Jisung who’s been looking nervous since he arrived. Throwing his head back in a laugh as he tunes his guitar, he comments, “That’s a bit unexpected. I didn’t know my brother and your boyfriend would get along like that, and this quickly!” 

“Beating out rigged games sounds about right.” Chan chuckles along, seated on a plastic chair and running a quick check on his equipment. Turning to the younger boy, he then asks, “Are you still nervous?” 

“Me? Nah, I wasn’t even nervous to begin with!” At this, Jisung’s laughs naturally die down to an uncertain shake of his head. He dismisses with a scrunch up nose which Chan immediately raises a brow at. 

“Come on, Sung, I practically raised you with the other kids.” Chan proceeds to roll his eyes as Jisung’s brief confident facade crumbles down slowly. “What’s up?” 

The boy in question eventually sighs in defeat, shoulders slumping against the plastic chair he occupies. “Fine, maybe I’m a bit nervous! Just a little bit, though, I can still get on stage later! I mean, it’s not like performing here is gonna be different from back home like you said on the way here but…”

“But what?” Chan asks patiently, glancing up to see Jisung’s gaze fixed down on his yellow acoustic guitar. When the younger boy doesn’t respond immediately, he then continues, “I’ve heard bits and pieces of what you’ve been working on this month and all of the songs sound great. You’ll catch a lot of hearts tonight with them, I’m sure. What are you worried about?”

Jisung looks up from his guitar and opens his mouth to speak, only to get cut off when you come in the performer’s tent running and balancing different kinds of microphones in your hands. “Sorry I’m late!” You announce in between tired pants, catching both his and Chan’s attention as you pass the microphones around the artists with Jeongin who instinctively comes to your aid. “I was with my friends and they wouldn’t budge from the ring toss!” 

“I think I’m going to faint.” Jisung mumbles under his breath with furrowed brows, loud enough for only Chan to hear, until you approach them last with their microphones. 

“Mics?” You offer obliviously, holding up the last 2 hand mics in your possession. Passing one to Chan quickly, you then sit down next to Jisung and pass him his hand mic. “Hey, you’re up fourth, right?” 

Jisung glances over to Chan with a panicked look but the older boy simply shakes his head with a chuckle and focuses on his keyboard. Turning to you, Jisung then nods quickly with a hum before gazing down at his guitar and the laptop he’s set up on the table in front of you two. 

Immediately sensing his odd behavior, you then hover your hands in the space between the two of you in a quick spell, eventually verifying his nervous feelings. “Yeah, totally not nervous.” You chuckle in amusement, laughing even more when he turns to you and whines in complaint. 

“Ya! Don’t do that!” 

“Well, it’s not like you’re that good at hiding your nervousness!” You point out in defense, holding your hands up in front of you in between uncontrollable fits of giggles. When the glare he sends your way doesn’t relax one bit, you then fish out a small quokka plush from your backpack. “Anyway, Felix was kinda expecting that you’d be a little nervous so wanted me to give you this plushie he won at the milk bottle game with Minho for good luck. He would’ve given it himself but LUCY was already performing when we came here so he dragged Minho to the audience area before I could even bring him here.” 

You then place the plush toy on the table right next to his laptop, looking around once to make sure that no one is looking your way before mouthing a quick spell to shrink the quokka into something smaller that he can hang on his guitar strap. As you do so, Chan notices how Jisung’s ears are quick to turn red as he follows your every movement. “You can stick it to your guitar strap and bring it with you to the stage.” You point out once you’re done, only then noticing his stares. “What?” 

“Huh?” Jisung shakes his head absentmindedly, mentally slapping himself back to reality before scrambling to pick up the plush toy by the chain you added on top of its head and tying it to the small hole along the edge of his guitar strap. “O-Oh, yeah, thanks!”

You chuckle, just as Yuna suddenly calls for you to help in getting the next act’s microphone stands on stage. Standing up, you then pat Jisung’s shoulder reassuringly, saying one last, “Don’t be nervous!” before running off again to where most of your committee members are. 

Once you’re out of earshot, only then does Chan look up from his equipment once more but this time with a knowing grin and squinted eyes. “Yeah, Sung, don’t be nervous!” 

Jisung rolls his eyes in front of the older boy at this, securing the quokka plushie on his guitar strap one last time. “Shut up.” 

-

Your committee heads lay you off of work just as Jisung heads to the stage for his set, the small quokka plush you gave him dangling behind his fretboard with a toothy grin while he sets up his laptop and greets the energetic crowd. When you discreetly scan the people’s ecures while standing behind the curtains, you quickly spot a growing number of pinks and oranges. “Such a charmer.” Chan notes, eyes also blue when you look up at him. 

You nod in agreement, reverting back to your original color as more of your peers gather around the curtains to listen to Jisung’s introduction. “Um, hi, I’m Han Jisung from the Psych department.” You hear him greet with a shy chuckle over the microphone, earning him another wave of cheers. Behind you, even Yuna and Jeongin cheer despite Jisung having his back partially facing you. “This is my first time performing here at uni and the songs that I’ve prepared so please go easy on me.” 

You then turn to Chan again, taking a sideways step closer to him as a thought crosses your mind. “Hey, Chan,” You call for him in a lower voice, craning your head up when he leans towards you. “Have you heard of the songs he’s going to perform tonight? You were together before coming here, right?” 

“Only a little bit. We mostly talked while we were at the studio.” Chan shrugs in response. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise to everyone.” 

On stage, Jisung then checks his guitar one last time before announcing the name of the first song. “So, this first song is something that I’ve been thinking about since I moved here. It’s called ‘Close.’” He says, pressing play on his loops and singing the first lines of the song. “Can you tell me about you? You, seen from afar. I just don't want to watch. Yeah Just tell me about you.”

Jisung is a great performer, there’s no doubt about it. Though you’ve grown up hearing him sing and rap at your more casual events back at home, he always manages to surprise you every time he performs just with the way he enjoys himself on stage. You can see him smile widely from the side of the stage, his nervousness long gone as he interacts with the crowd and collects the pink crystal hearts that float above your heads. 

“He’s really good…” You murmur, more to yourself than to Chan, as you find yourself gently swaying to the song. “What was he even worried about? It’s a great song…” 

Chan glances knowingly at you, a small smile playing on his lips as you sing along to the next round of the chorus. “I don’t think he has nothing to worry about too, not right now at least.” 

“Hm?” “Nothing.” 

-

In truth, even with the positive response from the crowd and the amount of ecures he’s collected from this set alone, Jisung is still nervous for his last song. “Sunshine” was supposed to be just another warm-up song with barely a cohesive topic, a compilation of sketches about his experiences in the human world that he spent his free time on when he wasn’t collecting hearts these past 6 months. As more time passed by, however, and the time of your exam was suddenly coming to a close, they eventually took a different direction without him even realizing it until you were inviting him to perform at this music festival. 

The times that the two of you would bicker just to laugh at each other in the end, the competition that brought the bests and worsts in you, and your chocolate matcha tea and musings on the one time you sat down with him on his balcony. Eventually, you were all he was writing about. On top of the nervousness that comes with finishing the competition you’ve found yourselves in for half a year and finding out who will be declared the winner, Jisung was more nervous about the thought that you’re just behind the stage curtains with Chan, anticipating his next song. 

“For my last song, I picked this one for someone I know whom I’ve spent a lot of time with these past few months.” He confesses shyly in front of the crowds. Among the hundreds of people that came tonight, he easily spots his twin brother in front of the barriers with Minho, sporting the most exaggerated surprised face ever. “I was hoping that when all of this is said and over, we’d get well-deserved breaks...maybe music and tea at night again or something.” 

Jisung doesn’t have to turn around to gauge your initial reaction as he begins the song, Felix’s expression turning into that of giddiness as he looks over at the stage curtains is enough to set every gear in his head to pump out more nervousness. Instead, he pushes through until halfway to the song before he could steal his first glance over to you since beginning his set. 

With his eyes still an emerald green from scanning the crowd’s ecures, your eyes meet under the harsh stage lights as he sings the bridge. “This place is quiet without a sound ye ye ye. Quiet except for the sound of our breaths ye ye ye.” He doesn’t intend to look again, not in that split second before he’s turning his gaze back to the crowd of cellphone lights and LED signs, but he sees your heart’s reflection once more. 

Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. You didn’t even turn away this time and simply just stood there, heat visibly rising up your neck. 

Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. This time around, however, you don’t turn away to try and hide it. 

And this time around, Jisung doesn’t childishly call you out for it or ignores it. This time, it makes his own heart swell at the thought. 

-

The car ride home, with Chan on the wheel and three extra boxes of equipment most of the backseats in his SUV, is a comfortable and awkward mix of quiet between you and Jisung as the two of you are forced to sit next to each other in the cramped space. You sit by the window, using it as an excuse to peer outside and avoid any kind of small talk from the boys, while Jisung has hisi eyes glued to his phone while a sleeping Felix snuggles into his shoulder. The only human noise in the car, as it seems, is coming from Minho and Chan as the two recall the songs the latter and Jisung performed at the program. 

It’s even quieter at the thought that you, Jisung, and Felix will fly back to the magical realm tomorrow, something that Minho reminds you when he suddenly asks, “Right, what do you kids want me to cook for lunch later, by the way?” 

The question comes right as the car suddenly comes to an abrupt stop at Chan’s garage, masking the way you and Jisung simultaneously jump in surprise. You instinctively glance over to him after with wide eyes, before gazing over at Minho who has a poorly-hidden snicker on his expression from the front passenger seat. “Um,” You stutter out awkwardly, glaring at Minho when he smirks teasingly over your way. “Anything’s fine for me.” 

Jisung nods over to your direction in agreement. “Yeah, anything’s fine.” 

Minho nods with pursed lips, as if he was biting down a laugh. “Does crispy pork belly sound good?” He asks, earning him nods from you. “Okay. You guys have been quiet back here this entire time, you guys good?” 

“Yeah?” “Totally.” 

Clearly unconvinced, Minho shakes his head and scoffs before twisting his upper body to face front once more, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door next to him. “Oh, kids…” 

You roll your eyes at the comment before stealing a glance over at Jisung again, only to find the boy already staring at you. “W-What?” You manage to ask this time despite your initial surprise. In front of you, Chan has already turned the engine off and left the driver’s seat to open the back of the car. “You okay, Ji?” 

He hums almost absentmindedly, phone now set down on his lap as he fiddles with his hands nervously. “Yeah, um—” He stutters out, biting his lips down once. Briefly glancing at his side, he then gestures towards his twin and adds, “Wait, sorry, um, let me wake Lix first.” 

“Okay.” You nod awkwardly, deciding to unbuckle your own seatbelt and open the car door next to you. Jisung then gently shakes Felix awake, leading his brother out through the same car door since the opposite one’s blocked by more of his and Chan’s equipment. 

“You go on ahead, Lix, I’ll just talk to Y/N.” You hear Jisung say as the three of you now stand outside in the cold, levitating boxes of instruments and computers flying over your head and heading inside the house. 

Felix nods at this immediately, sleepily bidding you and Jisung with loose hugs before trudging back inside the house with Chan and Minho. 

Once the doors leading back to the house fully close on the two of you, only then are you engulfed in the same awkward silence again and the two of you, for the third time in the past 6 months, speak up at the same time. 

“So um—” “—Yeah, a while ago—” 

This time, the two of you chuckle awkwardly over speaking at the same time again. You then gesture for him to go ahead and speak first as you adjust your sweater’s placement on your shoulder. 

Instinctively, Jisung fixes your sweater for you before speaking, causing him to stutter a little. “S-Sorry, um…” He licks his lip awkwardly, retracting his hand as fast as he can and moving a step back. “Yeah, I meant to say that I didn’t...I didn’t mean to look at your heart.” 

Suddenly, at such an important moment, you’re speechless and frozen in front of Jisung. Your hands find their way down the hem of your sweater, absentmindedly playing with the loose threads as you shift your weight on the balls of your feet and stutter out your response. “I-I um…” 

Simultaneously, Jisung takes in a huge intake of breath and continues, “I looked at you because I actually made the song for you—well, about you but not in a weird way! It can be for you too, that is if you want it!—”

“Jisung?” 

“Ah, anyway, I’m losing track! Just, I looked at you because I wanted to know what you thought of it the most in the moment, you know—”

“Jisung…”

“And I didn’t realize that my eyes were still green and I saw so I looked away as fast as I could, I swear—!” 

“Ji.” 

“I know you don’t want me looking into your heart and stuff because of before. I promise I won’t do it again—” 

Realizing that he’s not going to stop in his ramblings, you then impulsively take a step towards him and grab him by his arms. “Ji, it’s fine.” You shake him gently, effectively stopping the endless flow of thought. “I mean, you already saw it and everything.” 

“But I—” 

“Just don’t lash out or stop talking to me again while I sort it out.” You shrug reassuringly with a sigh, reluctantly sliding your hands off of him and taking a step back again as you see him listen intently to your words. “It’s just pink, anyway, it can still go away like before. Just don’t avoid me again this time.” 

Though he’s clearly been listening intently, you see his brows furrow and his expression suddenly becomes confused towards the end of your words. “What?” He echoes helplessly after you. “No, I...why would I stop talking to you? That was a long time ago. I won’t do that now, I...” 

“Then just don’t take my heart or something.” You point out, almost like a question as his reaction confuses you similarly. “Anyway, that’s not the point, like I said, I’ll sort it ou—”

“Don’t.” He cuts you off immediately this time with more conviction, shaking his head and suddenly taking your hand. “Don’t sort it out. Don’t make it go away or anything.”  

“What? Why?” 

You’re pulled closer again, Jisung mumbling an incantation to show his ecure under his breath. “Look at mine.” He points out, a pink crystal heart floating over to your upturned palm as he holds onto you by your wrist. “If anything, I should be the one telling you to not take mine on the spot or something.” 

“It’s pink.” You muse out loud in surprise, the warmth of his ecure feeling overwhelming as it floats above your hand. “And it’s for me…?” 

Jisung rolls his eyes at this in disbelief, nodding patiently anyway. “Who else would it be for?” He scoffs gently, making the heart disappear before it could burn your palm. “I don’t know since when it’s been like that, maybe it’s been like that for a long time even I don’t know I’ve only looked at it while Chan and I were at the studio. All I’m sure is that suddenly I was writing a song for you and sacrificing half of my ecure count so you don’t lose easily in the exam and looking out for you and—just, this time it’s me who’s afraid that you’ll run away or disappear for a while if you knew.”

“So don’t...sort it out.” He concludes after unknowingly speaking at such a fast rate, heaving belatedly from this. “I like you now, I like you a lot, and I’m not going to lash out like when we were kids. Take my heart if you want just don’t change your feelings for me, please.” 

There’s a brief pause that follows, the only noise ringing in your ears being the unusually loud beating of your own heart as the two of you freeze in place. Jisung tries waiting as patiently as he visibly can in this silence, puffing air in and out of his lips as he fails at trying to conceal his recurring nervous feelings, while you gaze at anywhere but him because of the heat rising up your neck. 

“Listen…” He speaks up after a while. “I’m sorry, I—”

Fuck it, you think to yourself before stepping forward, shakily cupping his cheeks, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Don’t say sorry.” You muster up a shy smile in between brief kisses. “You already know that I like you too.” 

bonus epilogue

When you return to the magical realm to the news that Hyunjin won’t be taking his own candidacy exam next year in favor of his own kingdom’s crown, the elders are quick to take your locket and Jisung’s ring to proceed with the final results. Since the decision takes at least 3 days, coupled with the fact that a major complication arose in the 6 months that you were given, Jisung was asked to stay at your castle until the jury could come to a conclusion and crown either one of you. 

The others would also occasionally come and visit (especially Lia who’s mostly kept up with your trip through Yeji and Ryujin) but since confessing to Jisung, the boy has been doing the most trying to sneak you away from everyone and your regular royal duties just to spend more time with you. 

“So this is what you meant with Sunshine?” You ask in the afternoon before the elders would summon you back to the throne room, the two of you hidden away in your favourite greenhouse garden. Today, Jisung has somehow convinced you to ditch a visit to Chan’s family in favor of just sitting on your greenhouse’s cushioned sofas and listening to him hum his songs until your mentors would eventually come looking for you. “Chocolate matcha and your guitar?” 

“Yeah, just a relaxing rest date with your crush.” Jisung points out next to you, his head snuggled into the crook of your neck as much as the guitar in between the two of you could allow him. On your opposite side, his cuddle rival, the quokka plush toy you’ve somehow managed to turn into a life-size pillow today, sits on your lap and occasionally pokes on the end of his guitar. “Why? Do you want to refill your tea? I’ve been getting Felix to teach me this spell to refill tea, you know. I’m getting it but chocolate matcha’s kinda hard to replicate.” 

You shake your head in disbelief with a chuckle, a stark contrast to how you’re internally flustered over the small comment on your favourite tea flavor. “Who said you’re my crush? Bold of you to even assume, Ji…” You pretend to roll your eyes, sinking deeper into the soft cushions behind you. 

“Baby, you’ll be taking those words back when I get crowned tonight.” He pouts, elbowing you gently before shifting to place his guitar on the side. With his hands now free, the prince then resorts to linking his arms with your free one and intertwining your hands together on top of the plush quokka. “If I win, I’ll make sure to banish this quokka first so you’ll be forced to cuddle with only me.” 

“Tch, Felix won you this quokka. You’ll have to duel with him first if you want this gone.” You argue, sliding the quokka closer to him so its face is adjacent to Jisung. “Plus, it kinda looks like you. If I get crowned and you’ll be away doing your own duties back East, I have something of yours.” 

“I think you meant that if I win and you’ll be staying here doing your own duties, you’ll have something of mine.” Jisung huffs pettily. “Maybe we should keep the quokka, after all. You might get lonely if I get busy.” 

You shake your head immediately with a chuckle, leaning more of your weight on his side. “Oh, no, no, no.” You correct teasingly, making him giggle along against your shoulder. “Who said you’re going to win later?” 

“Wanna bet?” He raises a brow and smirks, lifting his head briefly to glance over to you.

You tugged at the bottom of your shirt and stepped out of the car into the chilly night air.

"Y/N!" A male voice called out your name. You turned, watching as the figure who called out your name smirked, tucking his hair behind his ear. "Missed me?"

"As if, Minho. You barely give me any space to miss you." You huff, crossing your arms and pretending to pout.

"Aww, don't pout at me, I know you love me~" He teases, poking at your cheek.

"Are we going or not, sloth?"

Your best friend hooks his arm into yours, forcing you to walk in step with him.

"You better stay with me, Minho. I swear, if you lose me, you'll lose your head too."

"I wouldn't lose you, I'm responsible!" He protests, tossing his fluffy hair indignantly.

You raised an eyebrow, ignoring him and stepping through the entrance of the club, immediately blinded by the flashing lights.

You estimated it was about two minutes into the night when Minho's arm loosened in your grip, and after mouthing drinks, he disappeared in a flash, leaving you alone.

You sighed, turning your attention to the dancer walking to the stage.

Responsible, my ass. Minho really knew how to annoy the shit out of you. Oh well, you reasoned. As long as you were here, you might admire the handsome man who was currently walking to the stage as if he owned the place.

He had a certain aura to him that you couldn't pinpoint. He was almost ethereal, the way he flipped his chin length blonde hair, turning to wink at the crowd. You needed to get closer.

You pushed your way through the screaming crowd, somehow making your way to the front.

The dancer turns to look at the crowd, and he looks directly into your eyes. Your breath stops. As his brown eyes kept contact with yours, he steps up to the pole, and he dances.

You had never been more focused in your life. All you could see was this man, the way he moves his body, and every step he took. The way his flexible body wove around the pole, as he maintained blowing kisses and winking at them. It was exhilarating, addicting, and you needed more.

He licks his plump lips, concentrating on flipping his body around the pole. You're so entranced, you don't even notice as the man rests his eyes on you. As he bites his lips at the almost immediate thought of you crying for him, begging for him.

The dancer takes a breath, trying to keep his cool. But how was that possible when you were there, with your eyes widened and your jaw dropped? It was too much for him. He just had to talk to you.

You rinse your face in the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. That show was really something. Your cheeks were flushed, and you were covered in sweat. The image of the dancer was still engraved in your head, refusing to let itself out.

You sighed as you patted your cheek with a spare beauty blender, touching up your makeup. Oh, the things you would let that man do to you. It was unfair, really, how his sheer beauty left you weak in the knees. How a simple lip bite from a man you haven't even seen before left you wet and bothered. Unfair was the only word to describe it.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice as a tall figure walks up to the open restroom door, knocking at it softly.

"Hi, there~" You jump as a soft voice greets you. You swore you were alone in the bathroom when you arrived. You turn towards the voice, protectively holding your beauty blender out.

The voice chuckles, and the figure steps inside the bathroom to show himself. Oh. Oh shit. You were fucked.

Standing in front of you was no other than the pole dancer you just saw.

"Hwang Hyunjin, nice to meet you. And you are, babygirl?" The dancer extends his hand, expecting you to shake it.

Babygirl. The name makes you weak, shooting any comments you had out of your brain. Your head was empty, with the only thought being babygirl.

"I-uh..." You finally reach out a hand, meeting his midway, and shaking it. "I'm Y/N..."

"Y/N. What a pretty name for a pretty kitten." The dancer, no, Hyunjin, releases his grip on your hand, now putting it gently on your shoulder. He leans closer.

"Well," Hyunjin whispers, "I'm glad to see I have such an effect on you, babygirl." He draws out the word, making every syllable weaken your defenses.

You whimper, and wince after. How did this man have the ability to make you puddy in his hands so easily? You couldn't tell if you hated it or loved it.

"Don't worry, kitten. You have an effect on me as well. I saw you cheering for me, and well..." Hyunjin exhales, gesturing towards his bulge.

You widen your eyes. That was all you? A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you as you step closer to him and nip at his neck, drawing a moan out from him, and tug at the bottom of his shirt.

Hyunjin tugs your shirt off, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. He desperately licks and bites at your neck, sucking at the exact spots that make you whimper.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, babygirl," He breathed in between his kisses, diving back in to suck at your neck, and drawing a strangled moan from your lips. The stripper bucks his covered hips into yours, bulge growing by the second.

"Just fucking do it already." You hike his shirt up and took it off, shirt soon followed by his sweatpants.

"Fuck..." He moans at the sight of your naked bodies pressed together, seen clearly in the mirror. "Such a pretty little babygirl, hm? A good little toy for me to play with?"

His large hand cups your jaw, tilting it for another intoxicated kiss. Teeth clashing as he kissed you, Hyunjin drops his other hand down to play with your gathering stickiness.

"A-ah.." You let out a whine, bucking your hips in his hands as he rolls your clit in his fingers easily. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he broke away from the kiss, easily picking you up and setting you on top of the counter. He swings your legs over his shoulders, dipping down so his face could meet your heat.

"Smells divine," He comments, gathering your juices with his fingers and sucking them with a pop. "Tastes divine too, baby. And your moans? Sound divine."

He brushes his fingers against your clit to make a point, as you whimper with the slight touch. The dancer knew what he was doing, how he was affecting you. And he loved every single second of it.

Hyunjin licks a bold strip of your heat, sighing with pleasure as you threw your head back.

"So reactive, kitten. So easily, too, hm?" He tilts his head playfully as you try not to glare at the cocky man. "I believe I asked you a question, baby. I expect you answer it."

"I'm sorry... I do react too easily, but I can't help that you're so hot!" You rush, trying to find any reason at all to defend yourself.

Hyunjin drags his fingertips lightly on your inner thigh, looking into your eyes.

You shivered. His gaze was piercing, darkened with lust. You couldn't look away.

"So hot," Hyunjin finally responds after too long of a silence. "You're cute, too cute. I can't wait to ruin you. To see your eyes puffy with tears as you beg me to let you cum. Oh yes, we'll definitely have fun."

He licks your inner thigh, watching you struggle to keep your legs open for him with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Still open? My good girl." A rush of pleasure speeds through your body as Hyunjin says those words, making you feel proud of yourself. Good girl. His good girl.

He nips around your throbbing heat, licking and biting at your inner thighs and paying no attention to where you needed him the most.

"Please..." You finally beg as his nose brushes against your clit for the tenth time, shooting euphoria throughout your body, and disappearing in an instant.

"Please what, babygirl?" His breath is hot against your heat, the change in temperature making you wetter than before. "I need you to use your words," He practically purrs, obviously enjoying watching you squirm and beg for him.

"M-make me feel good," You stutter, your brain clouding over with how needy you were for Hyunjin.

"M-make you feel good, huh?" He mocks, scoffing at how far gone you were. "I haven't even properly touched you, babygirl. So sensitive, hm?"

You nod, eagerly waiting for his mouth on you dripping heat.

He smirks, lapping at your heat gently, and drawing back immediately.

"Hyunjin!"

"Needy kitten." He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment, and laps at your wetness again, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

Your eyes roll back in bliss, and all that could come out of your mouth was his name. Hyunjin.

"Fuck! Hyun-Hyunjin!" You scream out, making the blonde boy in question raise his head, cocking an eyebrow at you. "Shh, now. We don't want anyone to hear, do we?" He presses a tiny kiss to your clit, and starts nipping at the sensitive bud.

Your hands find themselves in Hyunjin's hair, and you tug at his loose tendrils, eliciting a deep groan.

"Such a good babygirl." Words of praise continue to leave Hyunjin's mouth as he dips his head back down to lap at your heat feverishly, causing you to feel such pleasure that your thighs start to shake.

"Hyunjin..." You pant as you feel your high approaching, and you buck your hips up against the dancer's tongue in need.

It was so good that you thought about taking a picture - it sure as hell would give you something to masturbate to when you were on the road - but there were more pressing matters to address such as the issue of your husband’s cock burning with a bright red color while he moaned pathetically around the gag you had tied around his head.

“What was that Channie?” you asked, lowering your tone as you circled his gorgeous body with careful steps. “Did you want something?”

His chest was heaving under the candlelight, and there were delicate beads of sweat perspiring against his pale-colored skin. It was easy to tell that he was turned on given the impressive flush to his chest, and the liquid precum beading against his abdomen. He whined against the gag, tears brightening the color of his eyes and falling down with long streaks.

It was a beautiful sight, complementing his muscles and leaving behind impressions of the ropes against his skin. It was so good, in fact, that you couldn’t resist skimming your hands down his front, pausing to tweak both nipples between your fingers because they were solid peaks from the cold temperature of the room. 

Chan was a gorgeous man, and you just wanted to touch every inch of naked skin that was waiting for you. Especially since Chan was unable to move because of the ropes holding him in place, forcing him to maintain a perfect posture and strain his musculature. It added another sensual element to your regular foreplay, and you briefly entertained the image of Chan blowing his load just from your scant touches alone.

But maybe that was too harsh; instead, you knelt in front of him, reaching out to squeeze the angry head of his thick cock between your fingers, and Chan flinched at the contact. “Poor thing,” you said, leaning back on your heels to remove your shirt, smirking when Chan’s eyes glued themselves to your chest. “You missed this, didn’t you?” you asked, and you moved close enough for Chan to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, flicking his tongue against the swollen peak. And you moaned and pull at his hair to force him to look at you.

Under normal circumstances, you could’ve never denied him like that. You knew that if his hands weren’t tied behind his back, then he would be touching every bit of exposed flesh while you continued to undress in front of him. “Oh,” you remarked while reclining back on your elbows, spreading your legs to run your fingers through the wetness that had collected in thick strands against your panties. 

Chan choked around a moan when he saw you admire the viscous arousal, shifting forward in obvious reaction when you continued to touch yourself, pushing a finger into your hole to curl it upwards. “I’d love to have you inside me,” you said just to tease him even more, and you held up your fingers so that he could see the evidence of your arousal for himself in the light. “Would you like that?”

Chan managed to nod his head enthusiastically, panting even harder when you crawled over to him, trailing your sticky fingers down his impressive pectorals. The trail was wet and sensual, and you ended up at the base of his cock, giving him a few quick jerks that had him practically drooling for more. “So good for me,” you said, and you removed the gag because you wanted to hear the sweet sounds that he was making. 

Chan immediately gasped for breath, inhaling around a moan as you turned around on your hands and knees before backing up until the tip of his cock brushed against your folds. “I guess I’ll have to do all the work,” you remarked, reaching back to direct his cock into your desperate opening, shifting backward until he was all the way inside - buried to the hilt just the way you liked him.

You both groaned at the mutual feeling of deep-rooted satisfaction - something that you could only experience when you were this close to him, and you gave a few tentative grinds of your hips before you really started fucking yourself back on his cock, relying on Chan’s impressive strength to hold you both in this position. The burn from the initial stretch was maddening, and you slowed down your movements to help yourself get adjusted to the feeling of him so deep inside you.

“Your cock is so big,” you said, moaning when you changed the angle because it allowed his erection to brush across a particularly erogenous area. 

Chan didn’t respond to the compliment, and you glanced over your shoulder, thrilled to see that Chan was positively debauched, head thrown back in pleasure as he attempted to chase your thrusts with his own despite the restrictions of the ropes. It was endearing to say the least, and you almost took pity on Chan because he could only sit there and let you take control of everything, supporting your spread legs surrounding him while his cock was pleasured by the constrictions of your tight walls.

“Channie,” you whispered, and he immediately looked up with eyes that reflected the lust driving his stuttered thrusts. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring as the veins in his biceps became more prominent while he pulled his arms taut against the ropes. “I want to touch you.”

“Ah,” you said, smirking at him when you started pulling away from his cock, and he whined when the heat previously engulfing his throbbing erection was gone. But you tried not to react when he looked up at you with longing in his eyes. “What do we say?”

“Please, Y/N,” Chan gasped, and his hips started humping the air in his desperate attempt to reclaim you again.

“I don’t know,” you said, moving back with a pleasant arch that had your ass rubbing against the bright-red tip of his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” Chan hissed. “Please, baby, I want it so bad.”

“You’re good at begging for what you want, darling,” you remarked, but you were also just as forlorn when it came to the thought of Chan’s hands gripping tight to your hips as he forced you back and forth along his cock. “Let’s see what we can do,” you relented, and you moved behind him to undo the elaborate collection of knots holding the ropes together.

It didn’t take long for Chan to exert his own form of control after that, sensing that the ropes were just loose enough for him to pull his arms free, turning around to pin you to the floor with a growl. “Hold on for me,” he said, forcing your thighs even further apart as he moved between your legs, guiding his cock back into the wet entrance of your pussy, forcing himself home with a perfect stretch. And you tried not to lose it so soon as he pounded into you, and the obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room.

“Shit,” you cried, arching your back as he started pummeling himself into you without any consideration for your comfort, chasing the orgasm that you had been teasing from him ever since you introduced the ropes.

“Such a good pussy for me,” Chan groaned, and his eyes were trained on the place where you met him with every hard thrust, pulling back with a moan when his cock emerged while coated with the sticky remains of your arousal.

“Only for you, Chan,” you said, gasping when his fingers started playing with your clit, flicking at the bud with sharp nails - squeezing it underneath his thumb as he applied fierce circles. And his hips continued their magnetic dance against yours with a heavy ache, filling your needy walls with his cock while you tried to hold on to the last shreds of sanity keeping you grounded to the rough carpet rubbing at your back as he pushed you further back.

The friction was delicious, and you knew that Chan was waiting for you to cum first, and you had no problem letting go for him - moaning around his name when that first delightful wave of pleasure crashed against the shore, and you were writhing from overstimulation as he continued to move inside of you, grunting with every delicious push and pull of his hips.

Finally, you both had enough, and you fell back against his chest as he leaned to the side to support his weight on the chair behind him. “Sit there,” you said, pointing a shaking finger to the piece of furniture, and Chan obeyed without a hint of resistance.

You sighed, looking up at Chan whose tear-streaked face was something out of your best fantasies. “Please,” he whispered, and you decided to take pity on your poor husband, helping him adjust while you crawled on your knees in front of him.

“Such a good boy,” you said, and Chan whined as you ran your tongue teasingly along the dripping slit of his cock, tasting him for the first time as if it was a novel experience.

“Fuck!” Chan gasped, watching you without blinking as you took his entire length into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you focused every bit of your attention on getting him off because he deserved it after putting up with your teasing.

It didn’t take long for him to fall apart, and you grabbed his thighs to feel them trembling beneath your touch as you swallowed his cum, pulling off with an obscene noise that had Chan cursing again. “You’re amazing, darling,” he eventually said when he caught his breath, encouraging you to move into his lap so that he could hold you close.

The next morning, you were surprised to discover that Chan was missing from your bed, but your suspicions were dismissed when you detected the familiar smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. Your stomach rumbled on instinct, and you followed that amazing aroma to your husband who was cooking at the stove while wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a kitchen apron.

“You’re up early,” you remarked, passing him into the dining room with a loose hand that grazed the exposed skin of his waist.

“I have an important sale this afternoon,” Chan explained, following your footsteps as you sat down at the table and clapped your hands together as a show of anticipation, watching as he dropped a plate of breakfast down in front of you.

“This is almost as impressive as your performance from last night,” you said, just to watch him blush at the compliment.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, sitting down next to you with a cheeky smile. “Are you working from home?”

“Mhmm,” you agreed with a nod because you were far too busy stuffing every last bit of food into your mouth.

“I’ll prepare dinner tonight,” Chan said, and one of his hands moved from the table to your thigh.

“Oh?” You smirked, covering his hand with your own as you tested his resolve. “Be careful, darling. You’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I want to play,” Chan said, and you hummed around your food as his hand moved even higher, thumbing across the waistband of your shorts.

“Come here,” you said, and you were more than delighted to entertain his desire for your kisses, tasting the sour reminder of the coffee that he had already consumed as your tongues met somewhere in the middle.

But then Chan rose from his seat, breaking your kiss as his hands brushed through the short locks of your hair. “You look amazing.”

“Hardly,” you scoffed because you had caught sight of your appearance on the way out of the bedroom, and you had looked a mess in the mirror after just waking up that morning. 

“I’m serious,” he insisted, and he offered you a chaste kiss. “You know me too well at this point.”

You couldn’t argue with that logic because you had learned to read your husband like an open book - perhaps it was because of your occupation, but people were interesting specimens that you liked the examine under a microscope, discovering little details that might otherwise be overlooked by a casual observer. “What do you want, then?” you asked, and Chan’s reply was another passionate kiss. “I like the sound of that,” you agreed before succumbing to his advances. 

Chan rumbled against your lips, clearing the plate from the table before pressing your back against the surface. “I thought you had a meeting.”

“It can wait,” Chan growled before settling himself between your spread legs, jerking down your pants and underwear until you were exposed for him.

“Hurry along,” you said, sighing when his tongue parted the folds of your pussy - and you were growing steadily wetter the longer he continued to look at you like he was seconds away from taking a bite. “You can’t be late for that meeting.”

“I’ll think I’d rather take my time with you,” Chan said, and you had no complaints to offer when he went right back to work bringing you to the edge with his talented mouth - teeth nipping at your clit while his fingers became submerged with your arousal with every dip inside your tight opening.

It reminded you of the first time you ever met Chan because your very first encounter had ended with you writhing beneath him in the penthouse suite he owned. Back then, the two of you were never meant to last longer than a single night of pure ecstasy, but Chan never kicked you out of his bed. In fact, he was always the one who called you back for more, and you could never resist him. 

To the point where you spent most of your free time with the man, learning the intricate details that had mystified you when you met him in a sleazy bar downtown, emerging from the crowd of people with bleached-blonde hair and bright eyes that promised all sorts of mischief. He still continued to surprise you in many ways, and you imagined that you could spent the rest of your life learning about him. But that was part of the reason why your marriage worked so well, even if you had hesitated at first when he got down on one knee and offered you his mother’s wedding ring.

Forever was a long time, but you decided to take a chance on him. And you were positive that it was the best one you had ever made because Chan did everything to impress you. Working odd hours and weekends to support your rather lavish lifestyle, and the two of you were nothing short of happy together in your little slice of perfection.

Mornings like this always served as a reminder for the reason why you liked to keep him close to your side, especially when he went out of his way to provide for you. But perhaps even more than something like cooking your breakfast, there was no better form of motivation than a good fuck with your doting husband, and you could still feel the effects of his cock ramming into your pussy as you pulled back on your shorts and smoothed down the hem of the oversized t-shirt you had been wearing.

“Romantic as always, darling,” you said to break the silence, smirking at Chan when he returned to the foyer wearing work-appropriate clothes, and he was still panting from your prior rendezvous. “Can I see you off before you go?”

Chan nodded, and once he caught his breath, he followed you to the front door where you allowed him to push you against the wood, kissing you until every bit of oxygen was stolen from your lungs. 

“I’ll see you later,” Chan said, and he pressed one last kiss to the tip of your nose.

Chan only knew as much as you permitted yourself to tell him, which meant that the idea of private investigation was as far from the truth as one could reach. However, at the risk of blowing your cover, you made the decision to keep most of your extracurricular affairs a secret, which meant that Chan had no idea that the money you contributed to your shared banking account was made off the blood of the city’s scumbags who were singled out by your wealthy clients.

When you met Chan for the very first time, you had lied without remorse, telling him that you worked as a PI at a local firm. He had smiled in return and commented on the unusual aspect of the work, but you brushed him aside and claimed that you hardly considered it anything more than a means of income. 

Throughout your years of marriage together, Chan had never really brought up the subject of your work - like it was a dangerous subject that neither of you were willing to encroach. Perhaps it was for the best because staying undercover allowed you to see him at the end of each evening, reaping the benefits of marital bliss while your husband remained ignorant of the true nature of your employment.

It had always worked in your favor, which is why you didn’t think much of the unexpected call from your superior as you were sorting through some boring paperwork, nestled behind the makeshift desk that you had purchased for the days when you worked from home. “Changbin?” 

It was a surprise to receive a call from your superior, but you didn’t give the unexpectedness much thought when you accepted the incoming notification, smiling when Changbin appeared on the screen. 

“You have something for me?” you asked, reclining back against your chair.

“It’s an assignment,” Changbin said, and you frowned because Changbin never went out of his way to make a big deal out of one of your hits. He always sent over the paperwork without any comment.

“Is there something special about this one?”

“It’s deceiving,” Changbin remarked. “On the outside, it looks like one of our standard hits.”

“But?”

“This guy is one of the best,” Changbin continued. “Which means I need someone better.”

“And you thought that I can handle this impossible task?” You smirked, but it was more of a cover for the underlying confusion because the conversation was rubbing you the wrong way.

“Your record speaks for itself,” Changbin said, and you watched as he typed something onto his computer screen. “I’m transferring the case file.”

“I’ll receive it,” you agreed, standing up to wait for the fax machine to handle the newest inquiry. “My schedule’s surprisingly clear.”

“Good,” Changbin said, and you sighed when the machine started to process the incoming file. “You’ll need time for this one.”

You scoffed at the claim because you never took more than a day or two to resolve any of your cases. “What’s his name anyway?” you asked while sorting through the files. 

“He goes by CB97,” Changbin explained, and you snorted at the ridiculous notoriety. “But one of my men paid a heavy price to find out his personal information.”

“And?”

“His cover is impressive,” Changbin said, and he gave you a meaningful look. “I just feel sorry for the woman that he married.”

“She’s likely ignorant of his extracurricular affairs,” you remarked. “Does he have a real name somewhere in your personal information?”

Changbin sighed. “I wanted to handle this with more care for you, Y/N, because the hit is on your husband. Apparently, he’s one of the most dangerous men in the entire city.”

“Chan?” you whispered while everything else around you grew silent. Under normal circumstances, you might take the newfound identifier and proceed to carry out your assignment. However, with the simple utterance of your husband’s name, you knew that this case would be anything except simple. Because there weren’t too many Bang Chan’s who lived in the same area, and according to the files in your hands, this particular man appeared identical to your husband considering the photograph pasted at the corner.

“You see our dilemma,” Changbin muttered. “You’re the best that we have, but we understand that you have a rather close relationship with this man.”

Close was an understatement, and you fought back the nasty feeling of dread as you looked at Chan’s all-too-familiar brown eyes gazing back at you, but instead of love, there was nothing but mocking in their depths. It was something similar to a special kind of taunting ridicule because the very same man had once promised to keep you safe from harm when you met on your college campus at the tender age of 21.

You remembered feeling so much affection for him because Chan appeared innocent to you, and he couldn’t possibly understand the horrors of your secret world - let alone protect you from anything. Yet, standing the middle of your office in the present, you were experiencing the painful sting of betrayal as you continued to look at his photograph because the hit on his name made it blatantly obvious that Chan understood your world more than he initially allowed you to believe.

But there was something else, and you could only describe it as a convoluted mixture of cold and hot - fear and anger coursing through your system while you wondered how long you had played the part of a fool to a man who painted himself to be the idyllic suburban husband who regulated a 9-5 office position. But the file held tightly in your hands proved the opposite, and with this revelation, an entire relationship crumbled at the foundation. 

Your heart was breaking inside your chest, and an icy resolve steeled your nerves as you forced yourself to look back at Changbin: “I’ll get it done.”

That night, when you watched your husband pull into the driveway of your two-story home, he didn’t immediately leave the car to walk inside. Even though it seemed like he was busy collecting his belongings, you couldn’t find the ability to dismiss the heavy disappointment that had been following you around since leaving the makeshift office in your basement. Instead, you were faced with the beginnings of an emotion that you had never experienced during the years that you and Chan had been together: hatred.

“Hey,” you said when he finally entered the kitchen, smiling at you like nothing was wrong as he brushed a kiss across your skin.

“You look exhausted,” Chan said, and his face was contorted with obvious concern as his fingers traced the sunken optic bones surrounding your eyes.

“I had some trouble at work,” you said, and it was enough to appease him as he nodded because Chan had learned that you preferred to be alone during these moments...but this time the problem was him.

“Then maybe I should cook like I promised,” Chan said, reaching for the knife in your hand. However, you startled at the movement, unable to help yourself from picturing Chan grabbing the knife to imbed the blade inside your chest. “Darling,” Chan said with a tone that reflected his surprise. “Are you okay?”

“I should lay down,” you replied, dismissing the knife into the sink before moving around your confused husband for the comforts of the living room. 

The room had been decorated when you first moved in, and you recalled painting the walls with Chan without a single care in the world. But you could only scoff at the memory as you stood in the front of the fireplace, watching the flames crackle and hiss with the sounds of Chan preparing dinner in the background. It wouldn’t help your cause to act so despondent around Chan because you were still meant to work undercover - even if the assignment involved your husband. He couldn’t suspect that something was amiss, especially when he had no idea that the price on his head was worth more than the combination of your last three hits put together.

But there was something else bothering you, and you hated that you were so in-tune with your own emotions because you realized that it was a powerful resistance - a deep-rooted aspect of your being that loved Chan with all of your heart and couldn’t possibly allow you to murder him.

You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair, searching for a solution because you couldn’t fail at work - there were too many risks and rumors surrounding rogue agents who refused to carry out their orders. It would certainly mean your death warrant for a hit this significant, but how could you just turn a complete 180 on your husband after promising to stay with him through sickness and health? 

“Till death do you part,” you whispered into the room.

Perhaps if you were to see Chan in action...if you could only watch him do these bad things that you were being paid to end...

“I made your favorite!” Chan interrupted, balancing two plates between his hands as he dropped down onto the couch. “Come sit with me.”

You nodded once, trudging over to the man who had stolen your heart, and you joined him with a forced smile. The food smelled amazing, but you could only manage a few bites before you were moving your plate aside to study the man sitting next to you. From this angle, he looked nothing but innocent: blonde hair ruffled and messy from a day’s work in combination with dinner prep, and his brown eyes were practically sparkling from the fire as he ate and allowed little moans to fill the space around you. 

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked over a mouthful of food, moving his gaze from your mostly full plate back to your disgruntled expression.

“I’m just tired,” you lied, but Chan was not so easily deterred this time, and he promptly jumped into action.

“Let’s take a bath together,” he suggested. “Then, we can just call it an early night. I’ll even read to you.”

You snorted at the suggestion, unable to resist a smile as you took your husband’s hand and allowed him to lead you upstairs. “You’re so good to me,” you remarked, watching Chan remove his shirt before working on the handles to fill a bath with the best salts and soaps to create a floral scent.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” Chan said, and you were both more than eager to help the other out of their clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor as you settled between Chan’s spread legs. You groaned when your shoulders sunk beneath the warm water, sinuses clearing from the steam rising to fill the air with a good kind of heat. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Chan asked, and his fingers were working at the knots in your shoulders.

You sighed at the pleasure, searching for an explanation to satiate his curiosities because he wouldn’t allow you to deny him forever. “I learned something that bothered me,” you said. “And I have to make a difficult decision.”

Chan hummed from behind you, drawing his fingers along your wet skin to graze the dip between your breasts. “Well, I’ll always be here to support you,” he said, and your heart fluttered erratically at his sweet words.

You were left with more questions, unable to enjoy the moment with Chan because you could only think about one thing: “could you really kill this man?”

The next morning, you drove the extra hour to visit the office where your private organization was headquartered. After a night of feeling sorry for yourself, watching over your husband as he slept next to you, there was nothing more you wanted than to focus on your mission. It was better to distract your mind, and maybe if you understood why Chan was being targeted, then it would make things easier on your part.

“Good morning, Jisung,” you greeted your assistant as he rushed to your side inside the elevator.

You smiled when he opened a fresh page in his notepad, pen poised over the paper as he looked at you expectantly. “Do you have something for me?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “We’ll be gathering important intel for my next client.”

“Another one?” Jisung asked, and he seemed surprised as he straightened the tie that was far too crooked around his neck. “Is there already a file?”

“Changbin sent me all the information yesterday,” you said, and you both startled when the elevator doors rang again. “Follow me,” you said, and Jisung was obedient as always, tracking you across the floor as you adopted an expectant pace, greeting your intern Jeongin who immediately exited out of his game of Solitaire.

“Morning!” he said, scampering away from his desk to follow you and Jisung as you both entered the conference room.

“We’re looking for some intel,” you filled him in, dropping the file in question onto the table as you went to set-up the computer and projector.

“Oh?” Jeongin questioned. “There’s another hit?”

“Yeah,” you said, noticing that Jisung was frowning from the corner of your eye as he surveyed the file.

“Why are we tracking your husband?”

“Because he’s my next hit,” you explained, ignoring their matching expressions of shock as you typed Chan’s name into the system, frowning when several warning applications opened up in the corner.

“C-Chan?” Jisung spluttered. “What happened?”

“Apparently,” you growled, narrowing your eyes when his initial background check revealed dozens of less than flattering results. “Chan’s been lying to me.”

The projector flashed with the blatant images, and the evidence was damning: photographs of Chan meeting with Mafia Leaders who you recognized as past targets, images of Chan fighting with rival gangs, and several scandalous shots of Chan in local clubs with women draping themselves around his arms...

You shook your head because that last part was irrelevant to the case at hand, even while your heart twisted with betrayal. “Get me all the information you have on his...involvement with these other scumbags,” you spat, directing the order at Jisung and Jeongin who immediately complied.

Throughout the remainder of the afternoon, you surrounded yourself with Chan, but not the loving man who married you several years ago. This individual was a cold-blooded killer - the leader of an independent crime organization that sold drugs and alcohol to some of the biggest Mafia units in your district. You were faced with a man who was cunning and calculating, and he was nothing like the person who returned home to you every evening while describing the sales that he made with a bright smile and an optimistic tone.

“He tricked me,” you said, despite the fact that you hated the way it sounded. But your assistant both jumped at your sharp tone, watching with wide eyes as you walked over to your private office, shoving through the door with determination.

“Uh, boss?” Jisung ventured, flinching at your aggressive look. “Should we call for some back-up?”

“I can handle this on my own,” you said, and the perusal of your weapons cabinet lasted less than 30 seconds as you armed yourself with some of your favorite additions, including a loaded pistol that you had used to secure your very first kill. “Maybe I’ll retire this one,” you said. “Chan can be the lucky man who looks down the barrel for the last time.”

“Uh...,” Jisung trailed off, clearly at a loss for words as he watched you descend into your anger-induced mania. “Should we call Changbin? Tell him you’re taking care of things tonight?”

“If you’d like,” you agreed, pocketing the pistol as you returned to the main room. “But I can’t stay at the office,” you continued. “There’s someone waiting for me at home who requires my immediate attention.”

It was too quiet in the house when you walked inside, pausing in the foyer as you inspected the darkened rooms to your left and right. It seemed like the beginnings of a trap because, at the very end of the hallway, you noticed light spilling out from the room of Chan’s office. It was an obvious sign that he wanted you to see him there, but you always erred on the side of caution, and you still reached behind your back to check for your weapon.

You took a deep breath as you matched each step with another scan of your surroundings, ducking into the room in question and frowning when you noticed Chan sitting in one of the large chairs next to the fireplace - crackling from the flames. “There you are,” he said, announcing his presence as he took a sip of the alcohol that he had poured for himself in one of your nice glasses. “Come sit with me.”

You hesitated for a moment, checking him over to see if he had anything that could potentially end your confrontation prematurely, but Chan seemed unusually calm. It irked you like nothing else ever had, and you shook your head as you sat down on the remaining chair, looking into the fire as his gaze followed the shadows dancing in the corner.

“We’ve reached an impasse,” Chan observed, studying the glass of scotch in his hand. “I know all about you, darling. One of my men filled me in on this unexpected situation.”

“You’re telling me,” you huffed, leaning back in your chair as you studied the man across from you. “I’m not sure how most people might react to this situation, but I’m incredibly pissed off that you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you, Y/N,” Chan replied.

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit about how keeping secrets isn’t the same as lying! You let me believe that you’re just a quiet salesman who happens to be exceptionally good at sex.”

“Is that last statement relevant?” Chan asked, raising one brow in question while allowing a seductive smile to alter his demeanor. 

“My job is to uncover all the important information,” you returned with a grin.

“Interesting,” Chan said. “What else is a part of your job description? Because, if I’m not mistaken, you lied to me as well, darling.”

“For this case in particular,” you started, leaning forward with a suggestive wink. “I’m supposed to put a bullet between your eyes.”

“How exhilarating!” Chan exclaimed, and there was evidence of an uncontrollable mania overtaking the normal color of his eyes. 

“We’ll see about that,” you said, and you were on him in less than a second, finger tensed around the trigger as you brandished a familiar firearm in his direction. “I guess the tables have turned.”

But Chan didn’t seem deterred, and he even relaxed further into the chair. “Darling, you look exceptionally good when you’re trying to intimidate someone.”

“This isn’t about intimidation,” you said, taking another step closer. “You know I’m supposed to kill you.”

“Go ahead,” Chan encouraged you, wrapping his long fingers around yours to bring the barrel of the gun against his forehead. “Paint the walls for me, darling. Your satisfaction still means the most.”

“Shut the hell up,” you snapped, feeling an overwhelming amount of pressure and a frightening solvent of emotions course through the hand holding the weapon against your husband.

“I want you to be brave,” Chan continued. “There’s nothing you can do to disappoint me.” 

“You’re fucking insane,” you hissed, and there were tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“Mad for you,” Chan agreed, and you were caught off-guard by the peaceful look on his countenance, shoulders rising up and down with each steady breath he took while facing death with an unnatural confidence.

“It should be easy,” you lied, feeling the muscles in your arm grow tired from the constant tension.

“Please do me one favor, darling. I don’t wish to be offended by you during our last moments together, and you could at least have a doubt or two in that pretty head of yours.”

You swallowed hard as your hand fell back to your side, switching on the safety as the gun clattered to the floor. 

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Chan remarked with a shit-eating grin that you hated. Though the statement itself was contradicted by your next actions, climbing into his lap to smash your mouth against his, kissing him with an addictive high as your fingers curled into his blonde hair.

“Fuck, you look so good,” you said, feeling up his chest without an ounce of shame. “This shouldn’t make me want you more.”

“Me, darling?” Chan purred against your lips. “When you had that gun in your hand, I’ve never been more turned on in my entire life.”

“That’s messed up,” you hissed, raising your arms to help Chan who was attempting to remove your shirt. 

“Oh, I agree,” Chan said, and his lips were touching every inch of bare skin that came across their path. 

“How long have you been doing this?” you asked, meeting his lips for a breath-stealing kiss before returning to the artwork decorating his collarbone in purple and blue bruises.

“Oh, since I was very young,” Chan said. “But my father made me promise to never bring another outsider into our little organization. He passed away several years ago, but I kept my promise, and that included the woman who stole my heart.”

You stiffened at the mention of your marriage, but there was no chance to linger on the sore spot when Chan started working down your pants, fingernails scratching across the skin of your thighs. “You still want this,” you gasped. “Even though I almost killed you.”

“Perhaps I’m not so sane with you, darling,” Chan said, and he chuckled before bringing you both into the floor in a mess of limbs.

“Fuck me from behind,” you said, moving away from him before raising your ass suggestively into the air. “I don’t want to look at your stupid face.”

“That can be arranged,” Chan agreed, snatching your panties down your thighs before positioning himself behind you. “If we’re talking about when we look our best, Y/N, then I must insist on how you are right now. On your hands and knees ready to take my cock like the good slut that you are.”

You whined at the degrading words, but any potential comeback was wiped clean from your lips when Chan fucked his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt on the very first thrust. “Someone’s impatient,” you managed to remark, moaning when he spread your legs further apart, splitting you in half on his impressive erection as he moved his hips in talented circles.

“Oh, darling, you got me all worked up,” Chan said, and he pushed himself even closer, forcing you to slide several inches across the floor. “Keep that pretty mouth shut while I take out some unnecessary stress, hmmm?”

You moaned in response, more than content to support yourself to the best of your limited ability while Chan fucked you from behind, hitting all your best spots while grunting against the back of your neck. His heat was stifling against your skin, but there was no denying the effect of his strength or the coiling pleasure building at every rough meeting of his cock between your pulsating walls. 

But when it was all over, and you were both panting hard while lying satiated on the carpet in front of the fireplace, you were back at square one again: wondering if you had the strength and courage to finish your latest assignment.

When you opened your eyes again, Chan was gone, and you were left wincing at the pain in your lower back as you rolled over onto a folded sheet of paper that you had failed to notice.

You sighed when you smoothed out the page, reading over it twice with a burning rage growing brighter every time you recalled the words:

Y/N,

You looked very peaceful this morning. I couldn’t possibly wake you, even as a small part of myself realized how easy it would be to simply kill you while you slept. But I didn’t, darling, and you should be very grateful. So grateful, in fact, that you forget about me and that foolish organization who ordered you to bring them my head. Instead, I think it’s best that we keep to ourselves for a while, just until this whole misunderstanding ends.

You don’t have it in you to kill me regardless, but I’m giving you an opportunity to save face before you really embarrass yourself.

Until we meet again, 

Your loving husband, Chan.

You crumpled the note between your hands, crawling across the floor to find your discarded clothes. 

Once you were dressed, you thundered downstairs to your makeshift office, groaning when you saw that Chan had made a mess of your paperwork and equipment. You were lucky that you had enough engineering experience from that one excursion in China to fix the computer, clicking on Changbin’s name and waiting for the man himself to appear on the screen.

You smiled at him when he greeted you, watching as he observed you and your surroundings. The recognition was clear in his gaze as he realized what had happened, especially when you held Chan’s note up to the screen. Changbin sighed as he read over the note, rolling his eyes when he discovered the final taunt.

“You failed,” Changbin said, and you took a deep breath, ready to face whatever consequences you would be forced to endure. “But I’m willing to give you a second chance.”

You perked up at that, shaking your head in wonder at the man speaking to you. “Are you serious? The organization would be okay with what happened?”

“They’ll be furious,” Changbin admitted. “But you’re still our best, and this is a hit that we’re desperate to complete.” He chuckled as he organized some files on his desk. “I would think that his last insult to you would be enough motivation to end him for real this time. The Y/N who I know would never take that kind of treatment without retaliating.”

“Trust me,” you growled. “He won’t get away a second time.”

“I hope not,” Changbin said. “Otherwise, we’ll really have a problem on our hands.”

“Understood,” you agreed. “But I’ll have to come into the office to do some surveillance work. I have no idea where he could be, and I doubt he’ll be coming back here anytime soon.”

“I’d imagine he’s smart enough to stay away, but not wise enough to cover his tracks. Because he just so happens to own one of the most prestigious clubs downtown,” Changbin explained. “Go there tonight and finish the job.”

“Send me the details,” you said, letting out a heavy exhale when Changbin ended the call.

But you still waited with bated breath as the fax machine processed the information, spitting out the instructions typed across the page in neat cursive, including an address for Chan’s club listed at the bottom.

“Fine,” you said, shoving the information into the pocket of your jeans. “Two can play at this game.”

You weren’t surprised by the extravagant appearance of the bar in question - the one that your husband owned and had kept hidden from you. It was attracting one hell of a crowd, and you were forced to park further down the street before starting for the entrance.

The large bouncer at the door gave you a suspicious look when you approached him, but one look at the $100 dollar bill in your hand had him coughing in obvious disbelief before he removed the rope to allow you inside.

You smirked at his greed since it worked in your favor, moving between the amassing bodies dancing across the main floor while working their way to the bar to scream for a drink. You winced at the closeness of everyone, deciding that your prime days of bar jumping were over, especially when you preferred the solitude of an evening at home. Still, you had dressed the part, squeezing your body into a tight little black number that Chan had bought you for a celebration.

Your heart squeezed at the reminder, but you shook off those nerves before finding a place at the bar, requesting something small as you attempted to look for Chan through the crowd of eager patrons. Apparently, the bar was super popular, and you noticed that most of the people were young and clearly looking for a good time. Even if that meant a one-night stand or a morning after with their head against the toilet from their insane alcohol consumption.

Meanwhile, you sipped at your drink with modesty, searching through narrowed eyes until a familiar head of blonde curls appeared in front of you. “Found you,” you whispered, trying not to lose your cool at the sight of all those other girls hanging all over Chan.

He must’ve already moved on from you, which proved just how much of a sham your marriage really was, and it infuriated you to no end because the feelings you had for Chan were genuine. 

Had he been playing you this entire time?!?

“Fuck him,” you said, deciding that it was better to focus on your anger as opposed to the nastier feelings of jealousy and bitter betrayal sitting heavy with the alcohol on your stomach.

But you wanted to end this ordeal as soon as possible, and you made your way over to Chan with few difficulties, shoving past tipsy girls giggling in delight at the drunken men pawing at their clothes. It was a disgusting place, and you were already fed up with the tacky choice in music as you paused at Chan’s table. “Is there room for one more, darling?”

For a moment, you were glad to see Chan’s smile disappear, but then you were disconcerted by the obvious pain reflecting in his gaze before he forced it away and adopted his infamous smirk. “You’re being awfully clingy, Y/N.”

“Says the one still wearing my ring,” you remarked, noticing the gold band sitting pretty on his hand, and his eyes narrowed when they noticed that you had removed his mother’s ring - leaving it behind on the counter in your house with a cheeky note of your own.

“Maybe I’m fond of it,” Chan said, and he nodded at the vacant seat in front of him. “Do you want to try your luck, darling? I’m awfully good at this game.”

“Well, now that I understand the rules,” you returned, and Chan chuckled as you settled down in front of him, waving off the girls who pouted at the dismissal. “I think I have a better chance.”

“Oh?” Chan asked, studying you with evident hunger. 

“One game,” you said, pointing to the cards at the center of the table. “If I win, then get my second shot.”

“And if I win?” Chan purred.

“I won’t try anymore,” you said, shrugging as you kept your eyes on him. “You’re a free man, Mr. Bang.”

“Well, I can’t argue with those terms,” Chan said. “It’s been a while since I wagered my life on a game of poker.”

“So?”

Chan laughed before looking over the the dealer. “Shuffle the cards.”

The dealer nodded, and you watched his movements closely as he distributed a pair of cards to you and Chan. Glancing at your husband from over your cards, you bet first, observing him with intense focus as he matched you. Then, the dealer put down the first two cards from the remaining stack, and you sighed. 

“Tell me, Chan,” you said. “Why did you even marry me? If you never had intentions to tell me about your...outside business affairs...then why bother getting close to me?”

“It’s not meant to be a compliment,” Chan said, smirking in my direction over the glass of alcohol he was leading to his lips. “It’s something I’ve thought about for years, and I never intended to get married, but one night with you, darling, and I’m a ruined man.”

“That doesn’t seem as simple as you made it sound,” you said, raising your bet before watching him do the same.

“Why not?” Chan asked, and there was a brief flicker of doubt showing through his confident composure when you matched his bet.

“You knew me,” you said. “I wasn’t the usual type of woman you went after.”

“Oh, but there was something different about you,” Chan replied. “I still can’t quite put my finger on it, but you should know that even after this game, we will never be done with each other.”

“Well, you’ll be dead if I win,” you remarked. “I doubt you can do anything else to me six feet under the ground.”

“But I don’t plan on losing,” Chan said as if he had any say in the final cards that were being distributed across the table.

“Let’s show our cards,” you said, holding his gaze when you both revealed your hands at the same time.

Chan sucked in a deep breath, reaching into the pocket of his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. “Surprised?”

You shook your head. “A straight flush beats four of a kind.”

“Yes, it does,” Chan said, and he sighed as he lit another cigarette. “The stakes are too high, darling. You were never meant to win.”

“I see,” you replied, reaching for your drink to ingest the remainder of the contents. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now, darling,” Chan said, watching you carefully as you stood up from the table. 

“It was fun,” you said, but there weren’t any other words left for you to say as you turned around to leave the bar.

The cold air outside hit you with full force as you wrapped your leather jacket even tighter around your shoulders. 

The sensation of defeat was seeping into your skin, draining you of confidence as you placed a call on your cellphone. “Hello?”

“Jisung,” you said, and your tone was almost muted as you walked down the sidewalk. “Tell the others that I’m quitting.”

“Quitting!” Jisung repeated with a shrill tone, but any potential argument was immediately shortened when you hung up the phone to take a deep breath, watching it disappear into the night.

It had been years since you lost at cards, and part of you wondered if it was fate keeping Chan alive. But whatever it might be, the thoughts running through your head were a distraction, and you almost didn’t hear the sound of footsteps until Chan was practically breathing down your neck. “Where are you going, Y/N?” he asked, holding you in place as he moved in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, reaching out for the door handle of your car, but Chan slapped at your hand with intent.

“I couldn’t help but overhear, darling,” Chan said, approaching with all the confidence in the world. “If you’re willing to sacrifice everything, then perhaps I can do the same.”

You scoffed at his words. “I don’t think our situations are comparable.”

“But they are!” Chan insisted, and one hand wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. “You caught me,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t expect you to walk away with that look in your eyes - the same one you had the very first time I asked you to marry me, like you might reject our life together...”

“Maybe that’s because I am,” you said, and you interrupted Chan before he could argue. “I think I want to move back home. It’s warmer on the West Coast, and I really miss the sunrises in the morning.”

“Oh, darling, you paint such a pretty picture,” Chan purred, leveling you with a salacious smile. “I like the sound of that, and it’s even better when you add us both together.”

“But you’re not coming with me,” you said, and you were proud of the resolve in your tone, even if you were trembling on the inside.

“I’m glad your sense of humor is still intact,” Chan said, and he chuckled as he tossed his cigarette bud onto the street. “Tell me more about this normal life.”

“I’m serious, Chan,” you said, and you once again reached for the door handle to the car. “This is best for both of us. After all, I think we’ve both fucked each other enough at this point, wouldn’t you agree?”

Chan frowned at your carefully chosen words, and there was longing in his eyes when you stepped out of his embrace. “Darling, I never meant a word of staying apart.”

“But I did,” you replied. “I’d send nudes, but I can’t have you tracking my phone.”

Chan growled this time, following you as you opened the door, and he reached out for the top of the frame. “Y/N, I don’t want you to leave me. What can I do to convince you to stay?”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop this...I want my divorce, darling,” you said, smirking in his direction as you lowered yourself into the car, and you started the ignition before driving away into the blossoming sunrise.

psychology 101. the teacher was drawling on and on about nonsense. the syllabus was self-explanatory. you’d heard it all before. codes of conduct prove meaningless to a class full of apathetic, defiant, corner-cutting seniors. you just sat there, trying to master the art of pencil spinning once and for all. you got so close, too. however, midway through the period and a couple spins in, the implement fell out of your grasp and onto the carpeted floor beneath your seat. you rolled your eyes. bending over to grab it, your face flushed. you hated how everyone could see you being so clumsy.

as you sat back up, utensil in hand, you were met with a pair of eyes. well, a voice first. a voice that quietly escaped a pair of lips above you, which prompted your eyes to dart upward to reveal the face from whence the voice had come. but those eyes. glassy, crystal-clear lenses underneath which laid a pair of strikingly deep irises. deep enough to crawl into, hibernating inside them such like a bear within a tree, warm enough to last you through the seasons. you almost forgot about the voice.

“you were close,” he’d whispered. the voice, the eyes… they came from a he. suddenly, the crisp herbal scent of mint descended upon you, emanating from his lips. it was entrancing.

facing the awkward reality that you were staring at the boy, you straightened in your seat and blinked a few times. “yeah, close,” you responded, a compulsory, nervous chuckle leaving your mouth. “close to the floor.”

a breath left his nose. a laugh. your eyes traveled to his lips, which moved from side to side in accordance with the rhythm of his chewing. two rosy lips, similar in size, seeming to have never been chapped within the span of his lifetime. you were staring again. luckily, he figured you just wanted a piece of gum.

sticking the thin, half-empty twenty-four pack of chewing gum out to you, he asked, “want some?” the corners of his lips curled upward, an intrigued expression painted across his face… his face, which up until then, you hadn’t fully processed. his skin was some of the clearest you’d ever seen. a slight rosiness adorned his cheeks and the tip of his nose. astounding. endearing, in a way. a black hoodie laid atop his head, covering most of his brunette locks. you almost wished you could see the whole thing. all put together, he was one sight to see.

you were doing it again.

“uh.. sure.” you pulled one of the pieces out of the carton. spearmint, it read.

you sat back in your chair and chewed for the rest of the period. he did too. except, he was looking at you.