I am once again begging people to realize that AI checker doesn’t work. it’s never worked. it’s notoriously known to have flagged human-made works as AI and AI-generated works as human-made. and by feeding it people’s works, you are feeding more works to AI, because apparently the machine itself is AI.
the only thing AI checker does is harm genuine artists and people in general too.
pairing. drunk!jaehyun x fem!reader
genre. fluff , est. relationship
synopsis. your boyfriend’s drunk antics are often loud and chaotic, but they also remind you why he’s your favorite kind of trouble
word count. 1.7k
warnings. mentions of alcohol (but no actual drinking) , stripping in a non-sexual context ? , kissing , jaehyun is very drunk and very in love but so is reader
playlist. you are in love by taylor swift , ribs by lorde
notes. i actually had literally no idea what to title this… so ‘chicken-less dreams’ it is ! unless i can think of another title 😭
riwoo: 911
riwoo: emergency emergency
you: ????
riwoo: your man’s shitfaced and refuses to go home
you: i’ll be there in 15
riwoo: plz hurry he’s about to sing bigbang’s haru haru
You could spot your boyfriend from a mile away. Your eyes were immediately drawn towards him—the way he held onto a metal spoon as if it were a lifeline, singing into it with unbridled passion like it was a microphone. You folded your arms, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as you watched from a distance. Jaehyun stood in the middle of the bar, belting out the melancholic lyrics of BIGBANG’s ‘Haru Haru’, accompanied by his dramatic and melancholic acting. Despite sitting at the same table, his friends were looking away, as if embarrassed to be associated with his drunk singing.
You caught Sungho’s gaze and he gestured to you to come over to save them all. Despite being embarrassed, he also seemed to enjoy the situation with the way his eyes sparkled with a small smile. With a small resigned shake of your head, you made your way towards their table, weaving through a throng of bodies.
Snatching the spoon from Jaehyun mid-chorus earned you a dramatic gasp and a look of wounded betrayal. “Hey! I wasn’ done!” he protested, but the moment his bleary eyes focused on you, his face lit up and he threw his outstretched arms around you. “My girlfriend! It’s my girlfriend, guys!”
He turned to the rest of the bar, raising his voice to a volume only a drunken Jaehyun could manage. “My girlfriend came to pick me up! Suckers!”
You wrinkled your nose at the overpowering scent of alcohol wafting off of him. “How much did you guys give him to drink?” you asked the guys as you tried your best to dodge Jaehyun’s drunk kisses.
The boys shrugged in unison.
“Uh,” Riwoo started, scratching the back of his head. “It started with one, but then he promised to not sing if he had more, but as you can tell…” he gestured to the spoon Jaehyun had just used as a microphone. “So… yeah, this is on us. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you sighed, already resigned to your fate. “I’ll take him home now. Thanks guys.”
You nodded at your boyfriend’s friends and tugged on said boyfriend, only to find that he had somehow slouched into a near-horizontal position on the couch, looking suspiciously comfortable. Muttering under your breath, you tugged on his arm. You became highly suspicious that he would actually die if your attention wasn’t on him at all times, like he often argued. “God, this kid.”
With Taesan and Leehan’s help, you were able to load Jaehyun into the passenger seat of your car. He slumped against the window, lips smacking loudly together. “Nono… I needa sing one more song…”
“Babe, one more song and you would’ve been blacklisted from that bar for life,” you chuckled, starting the car. The engine roared to life and you backed out of the busy parking lot. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Jaehyun didn’t protest and the quiet hum of the car engine soon lulled him to sleep.
Getting Jaehyun into the house was a battle of endurance and patience. Juggling keys, fumbling in the dark, and supporting the dead weight of a half-conscious boyfriend clinging to you was more than exhausting.
“Please let this be the one,” you whispered, trying yet another key. When the lock finally clicked, you let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank you,” you murmured to the heavens, tugging Jaehyun through the doorway as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “C’mon.”
“Don’t wanna…” he mumbled, and his warm breath sent a slight shiver down your spine. “I gots to finish my performance…”
Somehow, you managed to guide him to the couch, where he collapsed in a heap. He sprawled out, stretching out his limbs in all directions. Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you observed how the pale moonlight streaming through the window highlighted the sparkle in his eyes.
“Alright, Mariah Carey. Let’s get you ready for bed. Even a diva needs to sleep, no?” you said gently, stroking his hair. “Did you drink any water?”
Jaehyun shook his head with a small pout.
When you straightened up to fetch him some, his hand shot out, grasping your wrist tightly. “Where’rr you going?” he slurred, looking up at you like a lost puppy. “Please don’ go…”
“I’m just grabbing you water, baby.”
“Nono…” he said firmly, shaking his head as if the thought of you leaving him for a second was unbearable. “I’m goin’ with you. It’s dangerous outthere.”
“Oh, really? What kind of dangers?” you asked, amused.
He leaned in, wide-eyed, and whispered gravely, “... Chickens.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. “Okay, okay. You can protect me from the chickens, Myung Jaehyun.”
What could’ve been a 30 second trip to the kitchen turned into a 10 minute ordeal. He clung to you like a koala, stumbling along as you poured water into a glass. Perched on the counter, he sipped reluctantly while you stroked his hair, murmuring soothing words.
“Nomo…” (translation: "no more…")
“No, you’ve gotta finish everything, Jae,” you responded firmly. Your boyfriend huffed with a dramatic roll of his eyes but nonetheless complied. “Good boy,” you patted his cheek affectionately once he finished the entire cup of water and Jaehyun beamed at your praise.
When you wiped his face with a cloth, he grinned lazily, leaning into your touch. You pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
Jaehyun’s eyes flew open at the contact and he stared at you in shock. You burst into laughter at his reaction and brushed your fingers through his hair. “What, never been kissed by a girl before?” you asked jokingly.
“Not by a pretty one,” Jaehyun whispered and you laughed again. “Not funny!”
“Is too,” you teased. Tucking your arms under Jaehyun’s arms, you hugged him tightly and you rested your head atop his shoulder. “I love you, Jaehyun.”
All you got was a quiet “Whoa” in response.
You managed to get him to the bedroom, but Jaehyun’s antics still weren’t over. When you tried to pull his shirt off to help him change, he recoiled dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest like a scandalized debutante.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I’m sure you’re a very nice lady, but I have a girlfriend!” he protested, wagging an accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t like it when I talk to other girls. Especially ones who—who try to take my clothes off! Like you! Perv!”
You watched with an amused smile, your hands resting on your hips as Jaehyun retreated further into his bed, distancing himself from you.
“And I love my girlfriend! Sorry not sorry, but I’m not for the huzz,” he waved his hand dismissively.
“Jae, I am your girlfriend,” you insisted but Jaehyun wasn’t having it. He shook his head with vigor.
“No thank you lady, I’m not interested.”
With a sigh, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s me, Jae,” you spoke softly, watching as his cheeks turned pink.
“Ohh… hi baby,” he whispered sheepishly.
Thankfully, getting Jaehyun into bed afterwards wasn’t too difficult, his protests reduced to sleepy murmurs. Once he was settled, you took a moment to ensure he was comfortable and you brushed a stray strand of hair from his face.
You slid under the covers beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Jaehyun was sprawled across the bed in an ungraceful manner, one arm flung over his face and the other clutching the blanket like a child with a security toy. His lips moved faintly, forming incoherent words as he teetered on the edge of consciousness.
Carefully, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek, the warmth of his skin grounding you. He stirred at your touch, his eyes cracking open just enough to reveal the sleepy gaze within them. A slow smile crept across his face: lopsided and utterly endearing.
“Hi…” he mumbled, the word drawn out and soft.
“Hey,” you whispered back, your thumb brushing against the curve of his cheekbone in a slow, soothing motion.
Jaehyun’s brows knitted together, his drunken thoughts forming an odd jumble of words. “Y’know… you’re really, really pretty. Like… unfairly pretty. Like… if there was a… a contest or somethin’, I think you’d win. Every time.”
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his rambling. “You’re too sweet.”
“No, no, no,” he insisted, his voice muffled as he turned his face slightly into your palm, pressing his lips against your skin. “It’s true. You’re, like… the queen of… uh… the stars? Yeah, like a star queen. Like, Dairy Queen but instead of queen of dairy, you’re the queen of stars.”
“A star queen?” you repeated, amused, leaning closer until your noses were almost touching.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his words slurring together. “And… and I’m just some guy… but you picked me anyway. Like what?” He blinked sluggishly, his expression a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
You chuckled softly, your fingertips tracing the edge of his jaw. “You’re not just ‘some guy,’ Jae. You’re my guy. My favorite guy.”
That earned a pleased hum from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he melted further into your touch. “Mmm… your guy. I like that. Sounds nice. Sounds… cozy.”
“Cozy?” you echoed, your lips twitching into a smile.
“Yeah,” he murmured, barely audible now. “Like… blankets… or hot chocolate…” He paused, letting out a soft sigh. “Or… you. I think you’re cozy too.
You leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Y’know what’s ridic..ous?” he mumbled, his voice trailing off as sleep began to claim him. “How much ‘m love with… y... and… ch… chi…”
You stayed there for a while, watching his breathing even out as he sank into peaceful slumber. Your hand never left his face, your thumb continuing its gentle strokes along his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your touch, a quiet reminder of his presence, his love.
Nestled beside him, you whispered, “I love you, too, Jaehyun. So much.”
Although he was asleep, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles, as if somewhere in his chicken-less dreams, he had heard you.
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Summary: Seokmin loves love. But love doesn't love him back.
Word count: 788
Other works
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask. So please don’t be a silent reader.
a/n2: I don't know if I will make this into a series, but do tell me if you want me to do so!
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
Seokmin loves love. He looks at young lovers in the park sitting on a bench, leaning on each other or holding hands, and he hopes they stay like that forever. Hell, if he could, his official profession would be matchmaking. But after a bit of a trial run during his uni days, the man understood that he is horrendous at it. He has more chances of pairing Mingyu’s socks than pairing two humans. What can he say—he just likes to bring people together. The only problem is that he’s far more impatient than an alpha particle roaming around in a chamber.
Now, it must not come as a shock to you that this man has indeed fallen in love and, like most of us in this universe, has had his heart broken too. I mean, it was his fault for falling in love with a woman who had another man’s name written in the script of her fate. But hey, love is love. You never understand when it will attack, and, being the defenseless fool you are, you just fall for it.
Seokmin understands it was never meant to be, but that doesn’t mean he loved her any less. Unlike most, he was devoted to Somin. He loved her like a poet loves his poem, like the paper loves its pen, like the sunflower loves the sun. He remembers how his world would light up the minute she came into his peripheral vision. He loved her with every breath he took and every drop of water he drank.
But like every other forbidden relationship, this one didn’t last. Somin found her fated mate, her soulmate. And just like water melting from a glacier, she seeped away from his life with a sad look of apology toward Seokmin and an enchanting smile for her one and only.
Was Seokmin sad? Obviously, he was! Who wouldn’t be? That night, he drank like there was no tomorrow, and Chan still brings it up sometimes: “Hyung looked like he wanted to crush that new dude of his ex, but also looked scared when he remembered his face.” I mean, obviously, that man was built like a truck. As much as Seokmin claims he likes to do push-ups and lift, he could never be the hunk of a man Seungcheol is. Never!
But even after all that, he could never get angry at anyone. It was his and solely his fault for falling in love with a woman who was not fated to be his. The blame falls on him, no one else. They had promised to be each other’s forever, but somewhere deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last. He knew that all those talks were just talks. So when the inevitable happened, he wasn’t angry at her—just happy. No matter how brutally she broke his heart, she deserved to be loved the right way, and so did her soulmate. He would have broken off the relationship anyway the minute he knew about Seungcheol—no questions asked.
Now, this brings us to this very gloomy, rainy day at the bus stop. Seokmin hates the rain; it reminds him of tears, and he hates to see the sky cry. But everyone’s gotta cry once in a while, so he’ll let it go this time.
This is when he feels it—the sting on his back where his mark is. The beautiful fish painted on his skin feels alive. Not even a minute after the sting, he feels it—the pull, the pull to look at the passengers getting off the bus.
That’s when he sees her: the literal definition of beauty and grace, the beautiful butterfly in this gloomy world. His one and only soulmate. You.
That’s when you look at him, feeling the pull too. It seems as though the world has stopped for Seokmin. Time has allowed him this moment to stare at you and take in your grace and beauty. And suddenly, he realizes you’re heading straight for him. Straightening his back, he looks at you expectantly, hoping to hear your name pour out of those beautiful, glossy, plump lips of yours. And then he sees them move. But he doesn’t understand what you’re saying, because your beauty has rendered him speechless.
Then he hears the words—those ominous words that will haunt him for the rest of his life, maybe even eternity: “I don’t believe in soulmates, so let’s never fucking meet each other again, ever!”
And before the boy can even process the words you’ve just thrown at him, you’re walking away. And just like that, the Seoul rush engulfs you like a sea monster, not letting Seokmin reach you to at least ask why.
a/n: thank you so much for reading, please don’t forget to leave a review
Summary: Seokmin loves love. But love doesn't love him back.
Word count: 788
Other works
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask. So please don’t be a silent reader.
a/n2: I don't know if I will make this into a series, but do tell me if you want me to do so!
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
Seokmin loves love. He looks at young lovers in the park sitting on a bench, leaning on each other or holding hands, and he hopes they stay like that forever. Hell, if he could, his official profession would be matchmaking. But after a bit of a trial run during his uni days, the man understood that he is horrendous at it. He has more chances of pairing Mingyu’s socks than pairing two humans. What can he say—he just likes to bring people together. The only problem is that he’s far more impatient than an alpha particle roaming around in a chamber.
Now, it must not come as a shock to you that this man has indeed fallen in love and, like most of us in this universe, has had his heart broken too. I mean, it was his fault for falling in love with a woman who had another man’s name written in the script of her fate. But hey, love is love. You never understand when it will attack, and, being the defenseless fool you are, you just fall for it.
Seokmin understands it was never meant to be, but that doesn’t mean he loved her any less. Unlike most, he was devoted to Somin. He loved her like a poet loves his poem, like the paper loves its pen, like the sunflower loves the sun. He remembers how his world would light up the minute she came into his peripheral vision. He loved her with every breath he took and every drop of water he drank.
But like every other forbidden relationship, this one didn’t last. Somin found her fated mate, her soulmate. And just like water melting from a glacier, she seeped away from his life with a sad look of apology toward Seokmin and an enchanting smile for her one and only.
Was Seokmin sad? Obviously, he was! Who wouldn’t be? That night, he drank like there was no tomorrow, and Chan still brings it up sometimes: “Hyung looked like he wanted to crush that new dude of his ex, but also looked scared when he remembered his face.” I mean, obviously, that man was built like a truck. As much as Seokmin claims he likes to do push-ups and lift, he could never be the hunk of a man Seungcheol is. Never!
But even after all that, he could never get angry at anyone. It was his and solely his fault for falling in love with a woman who was not fated to be his. The blame falls on him, no one else. They had promised to be each other’s forever, but somewhere deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last. He knew that all those talks were just talks. So when the inevitable happened, he wasn’t angry at her—just happy. No matter how brutally she broke his heart, she deserved to be loved the right way, and so did her soulmate. He would have broken off the relationship anyway the minute he knew about Seungcheol—no questions asked.
Now, this brings us to this very gloomy, rainy day at the bus stop. Seokmin hates the rain; it reminds him of tears, and he hates to see the sky cry. But everyone’s gotta cry once in a while, so he’ll let it go this time.
This is when he feels it—the sting on his back where his mark is. The beautiful fish painted on his skin feels alive. Not even a minute after the sting, he feels it—the pull, the pull to look at the passengers getting off the bus.
That’s when he sees her: the literal definition of beauty and grace, the beautiful butterfly in this gloomy world. His one and only soulmate. You.
That too was the time when you looked at him, feeling the pull too. It seems as though the world has stopped for Seokmin. Time has allowed him this moment to stare at you and take in your grace and beauty. And suddenly, he realizes you’re heading straight for him. Straightening his back, he looks at you expectantly, hoping to hear your name pour out of those beautiful, glossy, plump lips of yours. And then he sees them move. But he doesn’t understand what you’re saying, because your beauty has rendered him speechless.
Then he hears the words—those ominous words that will haunt him for the rest of his life, maybe even eternity: “I don’t believe in soulmates, so let’s never fucking meet each other again, ever!”
And before the boy can even process the words you’ve just thrown at him, you’re walking away. And just like that, the Seoul rush engulfs you like a sea monster, not letting Seokmin reach you to at least ask why.
a/n: thank you so much for reading, please don’t forget to leave a review
Did I just come back to talk about Taeil. It seems so to me.
So i have no idea how intense this situation is, but for once I think SM is doing this to save their asses. NCT is one of their top performing groups. Along with the fact that they never have any good luck with boy groups. No matter how well aespa is doing, nct still grosses a better profit margin compared to them.
Now keeping this in mind we also need to understand the fact that the members are slowly going to military and those who are not, will be starting their solo careers or have already started them.
If they would have kept taeil in the group, it would have meant that they would butcher even more money that was meant to be coming their way. Plus no matter what the actual truth is fans or majority of fans side onto the victims side, which although not wrong, would mean that if he was in the group, the group and the solo debuts would have to face the slander.
Then i think this is something everyone figured out, but the postponing of the solo events or events where the artist might have a conversation with the fans was also stopped. This was to ensure they dont speak their mind. They are humans after all, what i think is they will go through some training or might even just have a meeting to inform them what to speak or not during the fansings and other events.
I have no idea what actually happened with the case, or if taeil is actually involved or anything, but removing taeil helped the company gain a lot of positive light. So they made sure to use this scandal to their advantage and make sure to have more participation for the future upcoming works of their artists, cuz "SM doesnt support criminals so we should be a proud stans of the artists under them too". Hence more support from fans and more profit and sales
PS: these are not my personal views of the artist (taeil). These are just observation from my pov about his removal from the group and my thoughts of how it might profit the company
You write wish fulfillment fanfiction about K-pop idols who don't know or care about you, pot calling kettle black then about attention seeking. Disgusting behaviour
what ever you said i agree!!
absolutely !!!
soo horrendous😱
(although i albolutely didnt understand shit you said but)
you were right all along !!!
😔😔😔 😔 so i apologies for having fun after disrupting peoples days
You can't go around calling people who ask for better treatment raging bitches without everyone finding out you're a mean person. This behaviour from another writer is frankly appalling
what makes you think im nice???
and now that you say it, she is a attention seeking bitch who prolly never got any from her parents in the first place and is now looking for it here 😔😔🫤
and that is just sad 🥺
[warnings] one mention of reader in a wedding dress.
[a/n] can be read as the second part to this. read the continuation here.
jeonghan couldn’t believe his eyes.
“what’s this?” he looked down at the envelope you were holding out to him.
you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and curled up the corner of your lips briefly in what you had hoped was a convincing smile.
“it’s an invitation to my wedding with seungcheol,” your voice grew an octave higher and you prayed that jeonghan would believe you were actually happy.
jeonghan snatched the envelope out of your hand and tossed it onto the table next to him.
“i know what that is!” he exclaimed, exasperation building up within him and tears of frustration staining his cheeks.
you stood still before him, gaze falling to the ground, not daring to look at him for even a second because you knew that once you did you wouldn’t be able to keep up the act for any longer. jeonghan placed both hands on your shoulders and shook you slightly, silently begging for you to look at him but you refused to.
“y/n,” jeonghan’s voice was softer now but you heard the pain in it. “please, explain to me what is going on.”
you couldn’t look at him. not when the guilt from so brutally hurting him was eating you up alive.
“please,” he pleaded again. “i just don’t understand.”
you let out the breath that you’d been holding in and tried your hardest to will away the tears that were threatening to fall.
“i’m so sorry, jeonghan.”
“i don’t want to hear that,” his voice grew louder as his hands reached down to grab onto yours, the grip on you stronger than what you were used to and he squeezed once. “i want to know why!”
deep down inside, jeonghan knew why. he’d known for a while now about you and seungcheol’s arranged marriage for both of your families’ business deal, the rumours had long been circulating within the industry. but he chose to ignore it, being naive enough to trust that things would turn out differently.
the apartment fell silent, the only sounds that could be heard were your breathing and his soft sniffles. it stayed that way for what felt like an eternity before jeonghan finally spoke again.
“why didn’t you fight for us?”
“you don’t think i’ve tried?” a defeated sigh left your lips and you wanted to scream from the suffocating weight of hopelessness.
jeonghan believed you and he knew this was it. this was the end of what the both of you had.
“do you love him?” the hesitation was evident in his quavering voice.
he was afraid to hear your answer because regardless of what it was, he would still end up losing you and he couldn’t decide which was worse — you being in love with someone that wasn’t him or knowing you were about to marry someone you didn’t love and him not being able to do anything about it.
“jeonghan…” you attempted to avoid answering him by trying to pull your hands out of his grasp.
“look me in the eyes and tell me you love him and i’ll let you go.” jeonghan tightened his fingers around yours. he was desperate and was holding onto the last bit of hope, he knew you were never good at lying. “do you?”
you blinked back your tears once, then again before finally lifting your head to look at him properly for the first time that night and you noticed how broken he looked. jeonghan was an absolute mess. his eyes were bloodshot and his face was wet with tears and it took everything in you to not pull him into a hug and tell him that everything will be okay.
you braced yourself and looked him in his eyes and you wish you could forget the sorrow you saw in them that night. you had hoped that all the memories you will ever have of jeonghan would be only happy ones. but this was reality and it was cruel — agonizingly cruel.
“i do, jeonghan.” your lie came out as barely above a whisper but he heard you loud and clear.
jeonghan couldn’t help but let out a brittle laugh at the fact that those were the very same words he had dreamt of hearing from you, but in vastly different situations than the one you were currently in. he had imagined hearing it while he was down on one knee, holding out a ring to you. he had imagined hearing it as you stood before him in your wedding dress exchanging vows. but he had never imagined hearing it this way.
jeonghan finally lets go of your hands and his arms fell limply to his sides and you watched as he was about to walk away and a strange feeling of both heaviness and emptiness washed over you simultaneously. he suddenly stopped and turned to face you and your breath caught in your throat.
“can i give you one last hug before i go?” he forced a smile but the sadness never left his eyes.
you nodded.
he moved towards you to engulf you in his arms and you stiffened for a brief moment as you tried your hardest to fight the urge to lean into his warmth but you ultimately failed and gave into it.
“this would be the last time,” your heart ached at that thought.
jeonghan felt the way you were melting into him and he knew. he knew you didn’t love seungcheol. he started stroking your hair gently, something he used to do whenever you needed comforting and you let your forehead fall to his shoulder.
you felt so incredibly selfish. you had hurt him to his core and here he was, comforting you when he was the one who needed it more. at the realisation, you began to pull away, not wanting to cause him any more pain than you already had.
jeonghan’s fingertips came up to brush away the tears at the corner of your eyes and he leaned in to let his lips ghost yours so lightly that you could have sworn it had been your own hallucination if it weren’t for the fact that you could feel the pressure in your chest.
“be happy,” jeonghan murmured before walking out of the apartment.
DESCRIPTION: Four years has passed many has changed, but yet not quite much at all...
A highly requested Part 2 to Disconnected Calls
PARING: Seungcheol x Reader
GENRE: Angst
If this exact moment had been granted to him four years ago, his reaction would have been much more different.
He would have stood frozen in his spot, trying to swallow the pain that would have formed in his chest - the one that he waited for but didn't quite appear. It's been a long while since this crippling pain, the one that left him gasping for air, was associated with you.
Hell, it's been a long while since he had associated any emotion of pain to you.
You were nothing but a distant memory now. The person that he once felt pure regret and anguish towards was someone he now cherished – someone he thanked.
You were his greatest lesson.
It may have taken him a while to learn, but Seungcheol wouldn't have had it any other way.
Years has passed, and though you two may be strangers now, he knew you.
He knew how you stood, Seungcheol could pick out that posture in a crowded room.
He knew that you liked to cut your hair shorter during summer months – wanting to relieve yourself from the overstimulating feeling of the strands sticking to your neck as the humid season rolled in.
You may have had your back towards him, but he knew – Seungcheol knew it was you that was sorting through the pile of watermelons. It was your favorite summer fruit after all, there was never a day during the hot months that your counter space didn't have that large green fruit.
He waited for a couple more seconds for that familiar feeling of grief to show up – but nothing.
Letting his legs overpower his brain, he made his way towards you.
"Need help?" Seungcheol came up from the other side.
You have heard his voice in passing; on the radio, television ads, and other forms of media – you didn't think you would hear it again. Not in person at least.
Looking up to meet his eyes, you couldn't help but notice how much brighter they were.
The bags, they were gone.
The cloud that seemed to have formed above his head, lingering for months after the break up, was nowhere in sight.
The warm smile formed on his lips was no longer forced.
It was as if a brand new man stood before you.
"I- Hi." You breathed out, almost as if you were still trying to register if he was in fact stood before you.
"Sorry– that was a really lame way to approach you." He chuckled sheepishly.
"No, I– No it's fine." You shook your head.
You knew this was a big step for him; after all, he was the one that shut you out. Him approaching you meant he had finally healed.
"How have you been?"
"Good, I- I'm actually just visiting."
"Oh-" His eyes grew wide, his bottom lip jutting out as he nodded.
You had followed your dream of starting a new life outside of the country. Seungcheol should have known the bustling city across the globe that you two had jokingly made plans to settle down at is now the place you called home... with a whole different man.
The one he heard about. The one that brought happiness back in to your life.
The man that was able to place a ring on the finger Seungcheol had once promised on doing.
"How about you?"
"Ah, well you know–" Seungcheol trailed off, not exactly knowing how to sum up the past four years. "The kids aren't kids anymore."
"That's a given." You let out a small laugh at his poor attempts of making a joke – some parts of him had not changed on bit.
Still addressing the band of brothers, who aren't too far from either one of your age, as kids. Something you had gotten accustomed to referring them as during the days when you were his.
There was a brief pause as the two of you tried to find more words to say to one another – using your eyes to communicate all that your mouths couldn't.
With the simple silence, you were able to see how much he had grown since parting ways. You were able to accept his silent apology; the apology he had been meaning to send out for pulling the rug right under you.
And you were able to let him know that he had been long forgiven.
It was all in the past and despite the initial anger, you never were angry at him for too long.
You couldn't be.
You cared for him far too deeply, loved him far too much, to not understand why he had chosen to end things the way he had.
Besides, no amount of anger and hatred could have changed the outcome – you had forgiven Seungcheol not just for him, but for yourself as well.
"It was great seeing you, Cheo–Seungcheol."
Seungcheol pulled his lips into a tight smile, hearing how quickly you had caught yourself from uttering that nickname he had missed so dearly.
Not that he was aware of it.
Hearing it had nearly transported him back in time; back to when all he knew was chaos – and you were the only constant in the midst of it all.
It was a strange brief feeling of nostalgia; the warm feeling radiating in his chest confusing him.
"You too, Y/n." He breathed, taking one last glance at you before heading back to the cart he had abandoned a few feet away.
You didn't dare look behind you to bid him one last goodbye, the interaction putting a sudden halt your new reality.
It was as if you were thrown back in time – back to when you had first caught glance of the ring you had thought you wanted.
Back to a time when everyone had been congratulating you for reaching a new milestone and all you could think of was the man that had left you out cold – letting you fall only for him to not be there to catch you when you as he had promised.
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
Seungcheol hated many things and moving was at the top of that list.
"Let's get this shit over with." He grumbled as he opened the one last box he had promised himself he would sift through – making sure the contents inside were something he wanted in his new space.
He didn't need to dig through the contents of the small 12 x 12 cardboard box to know what it held. The only indicator he needed was the iPhone 13 that sat atop the piles of letters, pictures, saved receipts, and miscellaneous trinkets.
It was a box that held the evidence that you were once in his life.
Just as earlier in the grocery store, his limbs worked faster than his brain; reaching to grab the phone – turning it on.
Within minutes, notifications began to roll in – no, rush in.
It was as if he had opened the flood gates without realizing there had been a ten foot wave waiting for him.
They were all voicemails from you.
Seungcheol knew it wasn't a good idea to check it out, he knew he should turn the phone off and go back to what he had originally been doing.
But curiosity had gotten the best of him and he had opened the application.
The notification bubble had been in the double digits and as he scrolled through, he realized you had done exactly what he had been doing during the times he had felt he was at his lowest – you had been leaving him messages.
For once, Seungcheol chose to listen to his brain and opted to not listen to any of them – at least, not the ones that were dated at the time when the break up was still fresh.
He knew what those voice memos contained; it was similar to the ones he had sent out to the void all those years ago.
It wasn't until he had reached the very bottom when a particular date peaked his interest.
It was the date he had found out you were engaged.
You had called him the same day he had called you.
That pain, that tightening at the chest, the one he waited to appear at the grocery store – it had finally come.
Stumbling back, allowing for the back of his legs to indacate him that he had reached the side of his bed, Seungcheol plopped his body down – his thumb hovering over the play button.
"This is a bad fucking idea." He chewed at his lip, almost as if he was attempting to talk himself out of the decision his heart had already made for him.
There was no going back now.
Hitting the play button, your voice began to play aloud. "Seungcheol, if you're out there– if you somehow get this– I– I made a mistak–"
"No." He shook his head, not bothering to listen to the rest of the message. Seungcheol knew he was a coward for not wanting to let the message play on, but he also knew there was no good in listening to the remainder of it.
Especially knowing that he was somewhere across town doing the same – expressing how much he had regretted his decision of ending things between the two of you.
He didn't want to let himself spiral down the rabbit hole of what if's; he had covered that hole.
Seungcheol refuse to dig it up again.
He was finally okay.
He has finally moved on.
Unfortunately, the voice of reason had once again been over powered as his curiosity took notice of a voicemail that was dated a few months after that god forsaken day.
"Fuck." He sucked in a deep breath as he felt his thumb press onto the device.
"Cheol," You sounded just as broken as the previous message; if not, even more. "I called it off. I couldn't do it."
Seungcheol felt all the blood from his body drain and pool at his feet upon hearing this.
You had called off the engagement.
The engagement that had sent Seungcheol over the edge, spiraling for months on end – unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel as he tried his best to move on from you.
"I'm moving to New York. I– I need to leave." You sniffled back a sob. "I– one of us has to fulfill that dream, right? I'll do it. I'll go. Maybe I'll tell you all about it one day. I– I just can't stay. Not when I feel like I see you everywhere I turn."
He took a glance at the time stamp once again – his brain sifting through the memories to try and recall where he was at the time that message was sent.
He was barely moving on from you at the time.
All while he had thought you were making plans for a wedding, you had actually called it off – because of him.
Seungcheol had forcibly moved on from you because he thought there was no longer a chance to make amends; to take back all the pain and suffering he had put you through.
If he had only–
"No, there are no if's or but's." Seungcheol scolded himself. "Not anymore."
He had worked so hard to get himself out of that rut, he had spent many nights crying on his best friend's shoulder – he couldn't take all that he had worked for and throw it all away over a message that he had missed four years ago.
Standing up from the bed, Seungcheol swiped out of the app – ready to turn the device off once again when the unthinkable had happened.
Another voicemail.
Dated to today's date.
It was as if the universe wanted to see him down – as if it wanted him to suffer.
Can't he just move on? Can't he finally enjoy the life he was living now? The one without the guilt?
"Y/n what are you doing?" He stared at the notification, hearing his heart grow louder in his ears as each second passed.
He has no choice but to listen to it, right? Considering he missed all the other ones.
Right?
Seungcheol internally groaned knowing that, despite all the years that has passed, he never could resist you.
He will always have a soft spot for you.
Maybe it was the love he had for you – the one he had come to terms would never fully go away. It may not take up the same amount of space as it did before, but he was mature enough to acknowledge that you will always be there.
Or maybe it was the guilt, the one that kept him up at night for as long as he could remember. His brain never failed to remind him of all the wrongs he had had committed against you – reminding him of all the promises he made and neglected.
There was a long silence that filled the room before your voice was heard; almost as if you were still finding the right words to say.
"I saw you today." Your voice was soft. It didn't sound quite as pained as the previous voice memos – but it was there. He could hear it.
You sounded almost defeated.
"I thought I was okay. I should have known I would run into you one day." Your voice had now become shaky. "You looked good– mature."
There was another silence.
"You– you look happier."
Seungcheol's heart began to ache at the thought of you realizing how much he had changed since you had last seen him.
He saw that you had changed as well – but he didn't catch on the way you did.
Maybe he didn't quite know you after all. How could he have missed the fact that your shoulders dropped the second you caught sight of him?
How did he miss the fact you had grown pale, seeing that he was clearly in a better mental state than you were?
You were once each others worlds, revolving around one another – but now, you two were just stars passing. Both completely lightyears away – hurdling towards different suns.
Or at least, he was.
"I– I know I said that last time was the last time– But seeing you– I– Everything came rushing back." Your voice cracked.
"Just let it out." He found himself mumbling, knowing that you had been suppressing the tears.
"I swear after this, I'll stop. I'll let go."
Don't.
Because he hasn't fully let go.
Maybe that's why he approached you.
Maybe that's why his feet found it's way making over to you instead of leaving you alone.
"Honey," Seungcheol whipped his head towards the sound of the sweet melodic voice – pulling him out of his thoughts and back to his reality. Within seconds her head popped into the doorway of the room, that beautiful smile painted on her face – the one that melted his heart at first sight.
Just as quickly the pain had appeared, it disappeared at the sight of the woman who now held the key to his heart.
The confusion, the pain, the guilt – it had washed away.
It was all just a temporary feeling.
"Movers are here, you ready?"
Blinking quickly, to regain focus, Seungcheol mirrored the her smile. "Yep. Just gimme a sec, yeah?"
"Take your time." She hummed before disappearing back into the hallway.
no one fucking reblogged this so i will! 4 words nice and simple 'it healed my gut heart!'
idk ik its supposed to be angst but i feel happy reading not quite like a fluff but like a cup of warm coffee after getting out of the chilling air of the office :)
good job for now! i love angst but only for you i have a threat saved:
try and make another one like this and watch me fill our pillow cases with rocks
SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.
PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader.
GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, tiny angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, only one bed inn room, a bunch of nosy men.
WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, many many dumb inappropriate jokes (divorce, fucking, diarrhea, to name a few), parliamentary procedures jargon.
WORD COUNT. 15k.
NOTE. after six, seven months, this this is finally out of hell (my gdocs). the soup is overcooked. holy shit. everything is written in the pov of a certain teener (excluding jeonghan and the mc. this fic is about them but no, you do not have access to their thoughts). this is super duper fun to write and i hope it’s fun to read as well HHAHAHAHA. please let me know what you think! enjoy!
“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”
The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.
“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”
Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.
“Public Information Officer 1?”
“Present and voting.”
“PIO 2?
“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”
“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”
“Prese—”
“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”
“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?”
Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.
“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”
“Present and voting.”
Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page.
It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.
“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.
Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you.
Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.
“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”
No answer. You scoff.
“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?”
Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.
“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.
“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”
“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”
The office door swings open.
“Sorry, I’m late!”
And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”
“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”
Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.
“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”
He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.
It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.
Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?
“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”
You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”
Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty to start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”
You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”
“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”
A very bad feeling.
“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”
“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.”
Your face stiffens.
Jeonghan just cut you off.
Shit, he just cut you off.
He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”
“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”
Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.
“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck, you called him by his first name.
You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.
“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”
Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”
Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”
Oh no. Oh god, no.
Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”
Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.
“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”
He doesn’t get paid for this at all.
“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone.
“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”
Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.
“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”
“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”
This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.
“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”
But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?
“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”
What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?
“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”
Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.
“Did you just swear at me?”
Nevermind.
There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”
Well shit.
This meeting is done for.
Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.
It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.
“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”
“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan.
“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”
“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”
“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”
“Great!”
“Great.”
“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”
“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”
“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”
Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.
“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”
Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.
Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in.
“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”
He groans.
Is it too late to file a resignation?
*
The following week has been nothing less than hell for SVT (Seungcheol has yet to change to the org name. He’s getting there. Slowly. Fuck university bureaucracies). The Orye is fast approaching, so there are still a lot of matters to be settled— printing documents, processing permits, making calls. The venue dispute is yet to be settled. Mr. Chair instructed a team to check out the mountain and sea accommodations you and Jeonghan forwarded within the weekend to get a better feel of both options.
There’s still so much work, which honestly doesn’t pose a problem with Boo Seungkwan, one of the org’s information officers. He’s used to it, being a member of SVT since his freshman year and all. This workload is nothing to SVT. Nothing to you.
It’s almost like you’re a machine. Printing documents? You’re a one-woman printing shop. Processing permits? You’ve befriended all the office heads and one word from you will get the event approved. It’s basic shit. Completely rudimentary. Seungkwan has always been at awe with how you operate. But right now, the problem is not the work.
It’s the work environment that’s the problem.
“Can someone pass me the stapler?”
Your voice cracks into the tense silence in the office like a cold blade, causing Seungkwan to flinch and look up from his paperwork. The whirring of the printer fills in the void left behind by your voice, with Chan carefully organizing the freshly printed pages with tight lips. You’re met with no response. He locks eyes with Joshua. The stapler is beside Jeonghan, who’s running through the program for the event. They share a look of dread.
“Where is the stapler?” You look up from the table. The clear stiffening of your face upon noticing where the damned thing is forces knots into Seungkwan’s temples. Oh god. Here we go. “Nevermind.”
The stupid stapler skids across the table. It’s been transported from one end to your end. Jeonghan’s eyes are glued to his laptop when he slides it down. Jun is nervously hovering behind him. Seungkwan wants to throw up.
“Jun,” Jeonghan calls out. “How many steps does it take for you to get from one end of the meeting table to the other?”
“I—I’m sorry?”
“Can you try walking from here to the other end of the table?”
Jun is sweating. He hesitantly nods and slowly creaks away from his spot behind Jeonghan, cautious steps towards your end of the table. Three steps. All eyes are on him. Five steps. Seungkwan is not religious but he’s making the sign of the cross. Seven steps.
“Wow. Ten steps is easier and faster than I thought! Anyway, you can come back now, Jun. I have some questions regarding—”
Swoosh!
Something rockets through the air, missing Jeonghan’s face by a mere inch from its trajectory. Holy shit. It hits the wall behind Jeonghan and crashes into the floor. “My bad,” you announce. “I wondered how quick it’d be if I threw something from here to there. It’s definitely faster than just walking.”
Assault. That must be assault. This is insane. This is getting out of hand. Seungkwan can’t deal with this shit anymore.
“I can’t fucking deal with this shit anymore!”
As he says, the moment you and Jeonghan leave the office to attend your respective classes. Jun takes a hefty intake of air and everyone relaxes almost immediately. “Seriously. Why should we suffer because they can’t hold their relationship together?!” he fumes. “If they wanted to break up, they could’ve done it in private. I’m sick and tired of walking on pins and needles whenever both of them are around!”
Murmurs of agreement break out. If their Chair was here, they would’ve been scolded. Thank fucking god he’s at the admin office processing their name change. “This reminds me of the time my parents got divorced,” Soonyoung offhandedly mentions while fiddling through their budget plan.
Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him. “Wasn’t that also the time you started perceiving yourself as a tiger as a coping mechanism?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus christ.”
“I agree with Seungkwan,” Minghao announces. He had just finished sweeping up the shattered stapler from the ground. “I can’t keep up with them anymore. Whenever I’m with our VCE I have to talk shit about the other. Why don’t we just lock them up in a closet so they can fuck and make up?”
A grimace creeps into Chan’s face. “I abhor the image you’ve just supplanted into my mind.”
Minghao furrows his brows. “Who told you to imagine them having sex in our dirty storage closet? Weirdo.” Chan is unable to say anything back. “Anyway, how do we fix this? I have to meet with Jeonghan hyung for dinner and I’m running out of bad things to say about his ex-girlfriend.”
“I thought the plan was to lock them up in the closet?” Seokmin tries to clarify. They’re all actually considering it. Seungkwan is sure they have a death wish.
“You guys can’t be serious. Didn’t you see Vice Chair’s face when hyung walked into the room earlier? She looked like she was considering murder, I had the fucking chills. We are not locking them in a closet unless you all want it to end with a dead body in our office.” Seungkwan pauses. “Thirteen. Thirteen dead bodies if she finds out we orchestrated it.”
“Then what should we do?” Vernon asks. “Get one of them to resign?”
“No!” Soonyoung interjects. “I can’t deal with another divorce!”
Jihoon’s face contorts. “They aren’t your parents. You didn’t even know they were together until they broke up.”
“Still,” Seokmin joins in. “I don’t want any of them to leave SVT.”
Jun presses his lips together. “I think I saw her drafting a resignation letter earlier.”
There is silence. Then the dawning of realization. Then chaos erupts.
“Oh no. Oh no no no no way.”
“We can’t let that happen!”
“Let’s burn her letter before she can submit it!”
“Nobody let her near the office!”
They’re all behaving like idiots, but Seungkwan has to agree. There is without a doubt that even though your breakup has recently put the organization into an uncomfortably tight spot— SVT would be done for if either of you leave. Seungcheol hyung can’t shoulder everything by himself. The both of you are the bedrock of SVT’s internal and external affairs respectively. Resignation is out of the question.
“Heh. You’re all overlooking something.”
It’s a new voice. Seungkwan wondered when this fucker would speak up, and he’s making his entrance in a gratingly obnoxious way.
Mingyu is sitting on Seungcheol’s swivel chair in the latter’s absence. He slowly spins it around, facing the rest of the members with the pads of his fingers pressed together. “To fix a problem, we should find out the root cause first.” Seungkwan wants to hit him, but Mingyu looks like he’s onto something. “Nobody’s resigning. I have a plan.”
*
Jihoon didn’t want to have anything to do with this.
It’s not his business whoever from his orgmates are fucking around or have completely fucked their relationship. It’s not his business whether or not you and Jeonghan have the chance to get back together again.
“If your previous supplier didn’t scam us last summer, we wouldn’t even be out here right now.”
Yet that is exactly what he’s been tasked to do— to dig his nose into your business, on a hot day, while having to canvass printing shops in the district. But finding a replacement supplier for your org shirts is the least of his concerns at the moment because—
[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: any update??? have you gotten through her yet?????]
How the hell is he supposed to fish out any information from you about your relationship with Jeonghan?!
“But these rates are seriously unreasonable. I’ll put this one on the table,” you say, ticking off a box from your checklist and Jihoon is sweating bullets. “What do you think, Hoon?”
Sure, you two work pretty well together and you praise his competence any single time you get the chance, but that’s the problem. You aren’t close. Your relationship is strictly professional. Hell, your text convo is nothing but org-related and Jihoon doesn’t fucking understand why he has to be the one doing this job when he can give less than two shits about the situation.
“Let’s check out the next place on the list first,” he replies. “I think the quality for this one is still better than the previous.
Dealing with someone else’s relationship problems wasn’t part of the job description when he got elected as treasurer. He’s got his own love life (or lack thereof) to worry about.
“Alright,” you reply with a deep exhale. It’s hot, and you’re getting tired. He’s also getting tired. Can’t you all just go home? “We’ll take a break first. Let’s continue after getting a drink, but where’s Mingyu? Did he get diarrhea or something?”
[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: hyung status report plz.]
[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Hoshi: wow we sound like actual secret agents.]
Jihoon feels his head starting to hurt. “I’ll text him.”
“Thanks.”
Mingyu isn’t coming back. Not until Jihoon manages to get something out of you. According to Jun, you’ve branded him as ‘Jeonghan-allied’ (whatever the fuck that means), so there’s no way you’d be talking if that street lamp is hanging around. “They went to the same high school! I can’t trust bastards from Hyangnam anymore,” Jun quoted from you personally, and they all started wondering what your conjectured alignment for each of them is.
However, Mingyu is functionally obligated to tag along with your canvassing venture today because he’s SVT’s business manager and Jihoon has all your org money. You’re here because you can’t stay put unless you’re directly involved in the task. Mingyu asked permission to go to the bathroom earlier to give his comrade an opportunity. That was forty-five minutes ago. Jihoon still hasn’t gotten anything from you.
“It’s an emergency, he says. A big one. Gigantic.” Mingyu never said that. Jihoon’s phone is a black screen. “Public toilets aren’t trustworthy. He went to his apartment. He told us to continue without him.”
You grimace with the click of your tongue. “Gross. Those god damned Hyangnam bastards. Let’s go. I need something cold.”
Time is ticking, his phone keeps on buzzing, and Jihoon grows steadily more restless by the minute. You two finish ordering and pay for your two lemonades with SVT money. “It’s the least this damn org can do for us,” you say. He fears you might actually resign, and it doesn’t do his ever escalating nerves a favor. How does he do it? How does he bring up Yoon Jeonghan without invoking your fury?
“Jihoon,” you call out, and he flinches. “What’s wrong? You’ve been spacing out since this morning.”
You’re both sitting on the nice leather seats of the air-conditioned cafe. Being out of the heat seems to have bettered your mood. Maybe he can wiggle something out while you’re pacified by the lemonade and cool air.
“So, uh,” he clears his throat. His knees are shaking. Shit. This is harder than processing your cash advance for the fucking orientation. He needs to ease it in. To bring it up discreetly. “I never really suspected that you and Jeonghan hyung were dating.”
Regret comes instantaneously the moment the words fall out of his mouth.
So much for being discreet. Your face stiffens. Jihoon knows he fucked up badly.
“I—I mean, I’m not trying to comment on anything, I was just surprised to find out.” Dammit. Wrong move. He might get blacklisted like you did with Mingyu. He’s not panicking because their stupid operation might fail. He’s panicking because he’s gonna lose the bragging right of being on good terms with SVT’s intimidatingly unapproachable Vice Chair.
The ice in your drink clinks around. Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and prepares for the worst.
“God. I can’t believe I dated him in the first place.”
Then he opens one eye. He sees you swirling your lemonade with one hand, the other used as a resting place for your chin before you take a sip from the straw and continue complaining. “I can’t stand him. I shouldn’t have let him sweet talk me into that first fucking date, that venomous bastard. His face is a weapon. I should’ve known better than to trust that face.”
Jihoon’s eyes are now fully opened. He discreetly pulls out his phone from his pocket— the device still constantly buzzing— and opens his recorder app all while his heart is nervously barrelling against his ribcage from the remnants of his fear. “Did he like—” Jihoon presses record, “—cheat on you or something?”
“What? No way. He’d never do that.”
“Then,” he continues prodding. “Why did you two break up?”
“Ugh,” you grunt, taking another long sip from your drink before slamming it down the table with a thunk. Jihoon flinches. He secures his phone underneath the table, checking if it’s still recording everything. “Don’t get me started. You don’t get it, Hoon. He’s just so—”
Jihoon never expected you to just lay down everything for him. You just continue pouring and pouring everything out like a fountain. A fountain of dirty laundry and too many swear words that his audio recording might get flagged if it gets uploaded online. This...was easier than expected.
*
Seokmin’s eyes are narrowed at his senior— zoomed in and in focus as the aforementioned finishes talking to a group of SVT’s new members. He’s taken a step back with a stack of flyers pressed to his chest. He can’t miss anything. He can’t miss a single thing.
“Thank you! I better be seeing your faces during the event, alright? Enjoy your lunch!”
Jeonghan is giving them the copy of the program for your upcoming Orye and MT. Freshmen. All women, as far as his eyes can tell, and they’re all giggling after his senior bids them off. He’s never seen Jeonghan hyung smile at you like that. In fact, he’s never even seen him wave at you goodbye like what he’s doing right now. Has he moved on? Oh no. This is bad. This plan might be ruined before they could even conduct an intervention.
“Seokmin, what’s wrong?” asks Jeonghan, snapping him out from the brink of a spiral of despair. “You don’t look too good. Is the weather too hot? Should we take a break?”
“N—no, I’m alright! Let’s keep going!” Seokmin needs to know if his hyung’s unnaturally sweet behavior was an isolated case. There’s not enough information in the air to make a solid conclusion.
“Well, I’m not alright,” Jeonghan grimaces. “The heat is unbearable. Let’s have lunch first, then we’ll continue. Go find us a good place to eat.”
A lump grows in Seokmin’s throat and he nervously swallows, watching as Jeonghan pulls out his phone and starts typing a message, to the SVT group chat probably to give them an update. Or to one of the girls he was talking to earlier. Shit. “Hyung, who are you texting?” he asks. Jeonghan responds with a pause, a suspicious smile, and tells him that ‘it’s a secret, hehe,’ and that he should hurry and look for a nice restaurant because he’s starving.
That wasn’t a helpful answer at all. Seokmin’s anxiety grows by the second. “What...what do you want to eat, hyung?” He should ask more questions later.
“You pick,” is Jeonghan’s reply with yet another grin that puts him ill at ease. “I’m placing my faith in you Seokmin. It better be a good place.”
There’s another lump in his throat. Oh god. This guy sure knows how to pressure people in the weirdest ways. And now instead of prodding around to figure out if his senior has indeed moved on or still has lingering feelings for you, he’s scrolling through his phone trying to look up a good restaurant— panic-stricken because god forbid he make a disappointing choice— while Jeonghan starts talking to another SVT member who just happened to pass by.
“We’re having it next month,” he overhears Jeonghan speaking, momentarily taking away his eyes from his phone just to see his hyung yet again looking and smiling at the org member with an alarming amount of sweetness pouring out of his eyes. “I’ll see you there?”
“Y—yes…!”
His observation is cut short by the buzz of his phone. A message bar pops up, covering the top of the screen and preemptively stopping his resto search.
[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Seungkwan: seok, do we have updates??? jihoon hyung hasn’t gotten back to use since thirty minutes ago!!]
[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Minghao: I told you all this plan was hopeless]
[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: why is noona telling me to take herbal teas and drink lots of water?????]
“So, where are we eating?”
Seokmin’s bones rattle and the phone nearly jumps out of his hands like a live fish.
“Talking to people is tiring,” he hears his senior lament with a long sigh. “Seokmin-ah, you take over after lunch. Let’s go.”
Go where? He hasn’t picked a place yet! Why are there so many food places around campus?! Jeonghan quickly starts walking and, out of even more panic, Seokmin picks a random direction, robotically taking the lead, brain overheating and eyes spinning out of focus until muscle memory lands them across the street of a hotpot place he frequents, just a few blocks away from campus. “O—oh, haha! Hyung, we’re here! Let’s—let’s quickly get inside, yes—”
He stops upon the realization that Jeonghan isn’t following him along the crosswalk. When Seokmin turns his head back, he sees Jeonghan staring at the place with a dampened expression. His first thought is maybe Jeonghan hyung doesn’t like hotpot. His second thought is maybe he shouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the road, so he quickly pads back to the sidewalk.
“Hyung…? Are— are you not in the mood for hotpot? Should we go somewhere else?” Seokmin’s gut churns, devastated because he had just betrayed his hyung’s trust in finding an acceptable restaurant. What’s wrong with hotpot at Red House? Did he have a bad experience here? But his place is so good! He and Soonyoung and Jun hyung have been eating here twice a week, Wednesday and Saturdays, ever since you recommended the place to them as your favorite, and— oh.
So, that’s the problem.
You’ve probably eaten here with him too.
“No, no. We’re not going anywhere.” Jeonghan’s demeanor suddenly switches gears. He brushes past him with a sudden determined look, not looking back even when Seokmin calls after him.
“Hyung, I know another place nearby. We don’t have to—”
“Let’s get inside.”
Seokmin has no freaking idea how to dissect or interpret this reaction. Nervous steps follow his senior inside the restaurant, and a server welcomes them both and leads them to a table by the window. “Oh, you’re not here with your girlfriend today,” says the waiting staff after they’ve made their orders, and he sees Jeonghan visibly flinch in the middle of passing back the menu. Jeonghan simply responds with a stiff smile. Seokmin is sure that he had just screwed up big time.
Why did the server have to mention you? Why?! Now, he can’t help but look at the server with an utter look of betrayal as he sets the ingredients on the table. “Is...is there something wrong, sir?” asks the server with uneasy concern. Seokmin’s bottom lip juts out, shaking his head with a sniffle, and thanks the server with a weak voice and tone.
Jeonghan doesn’t appear to be faring any better. While waiting for the broth to boil, all Seokmin could do is soak up the steadily deflating expression of his hyung and worry that it might affect the taste of the food somehow. He was pretty sure Jeonghan is already over you, considering he seemed to be mildly flirting with the org members earlier and all. But now he’s not so sure. Not when his hyung is poking his chopstick into a block of tofu with a gut wrenching look of longing.
“Hyung...” Seokin makes an attempt. “I’m—I’m sorry for bringing you here, I didn’t know it was—”
“Seokmin-ah.” Jeonghan speaks along with the crank of the stove. “A gente world of advice: don’t bring up sensitive topics when the person you’re talking to has a weapon on him. You’re going to get in trouble.”
The sunlight leaking through the window gives a dangerous glint to the scissors Jeonghan is holding. Seokmin bites his tongue. Jeonghan cuts up the noodles and the two start eating quietly.
Seokmin loves eating. He really does. But this time, every bite tastes like hot sand, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to get indigestion afterwards.
He swallows down another mouthful with the help of a glass of water, and as he’s trying to get the mix of meat and vegetables down his throat, the sound of utensils that were previously clattering suddenly stops. When Seokmin puts the glass down, he sees Jeonghan seasoning the warm broth with salt.
The natural salt that comes out of your eyes when you start crying.
Holy shit, his hyung is crying.
“Sorry, I just— haha, the soup’s a little spicy, right?”
No. No it’s not. They ordered chicken broth. The soup isn’t spicy at all.
“H—hyung…”
Seokmin’s eyes are now also starting to water. Oh no. Oh no, dear god, what has he done? He didn’t mean to bring him here and reawaken stashed away memories. All he wanted to do was find a good place to eat!
“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”
This was a mistake. They should’ve just had kimbap and ramyeon at the nearby 7-Eleven.
*
“So, let me get this straight. One of them did nothing but talk shit about the other for thirty minutes, and the other started crying because Seokmin brought him to her favorite restaurant.”
The SVT officers (minus their Chair and Vice Chars) have reconvened the next day at the office. Their upcoming event isn’t a priority right now. The only thing on the agenda is the problem with you and Yoon Jeonghan— to which Mingyu is trying to wrack his brains in coming up with something in light of their initial investigation.
“After listening to the recording Hoon sent, I don’t think she hates Jeonghan. She sounded like was just nitpicking in the heat of the moment,” says Jun. “If she’s still angry at him...maybe she isn’t over him yet? Maybe there’s still a chance?”
All eyes are on Jihoon, who witnessed your rant firsthand.
“I don’t know. All I can say is that she looked a little sad while talking about him. She didn’t add anything else beyond the recording.” It’s not like the recording was of any help. Most of it was just you calling Jeonghan a son of a bitch, a piece of shit, and so on, as well as a few tangents about Mingyu that he himself didn’t quite appreciate. He thought he was your favorite. Like, why are you assuming that he’s on Jeonghan’s side?! They weren’t even friends back in high school!
He spins the office chair in annoyance. To think he gave you a higher score than Jeonghan on your quarterly evaluation. Maybe he should ask Cheol to take it back.
“Well, if one of them is still on the hook, then there’s still a possibility that they can still get back together,” Wonwoo conjectures, eliciting murmurs of agreement from the rest.
“Does this mean we can finally lock them inside a fucking closet?”
“We are not locking them in a closet,” Seungkwan says. Minghao rolls his eyes at the dismissal. “We can’t do that. But we can bring in some forced proximity in a different way.”
Mingyu stops swiveling the chair. Why is Seungkwan looking straight at him? Wait. Why are they all looking straight at him? His throat tightens. He forces down a swallow. What, what, what’s the matter, why are they all looking at him?
“Oh no!”
Suddenly, Seungkwan starts a one-man drama. He exclaims, an arm jutting into the air before he lets the back of the loose hand drop onto his forehead, stumbling into Vernon who’s standing next to him.
“I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment this Saturday— the same day where I’m supposed to accompany our Vice Chairs and Business Manager in checking out the venues! Oh no! I don’t think I can make it!”
Right. He along with Seungkwan, Chan, Jeonghan, and you are scheduled to evaluate each of the places on your list so that you can finalize the event venue. Not long after, Chan also breaks into a gasp, catching Seungkwan’s signal. “Oh my! I forgot I also, uh, have a thing on Saturday! What a bummer!”
“Then, I also—”
“No!”
Mingyu winces. He’s shocked. He’s appalled. He’s offended. Why is he being yelled at?! Wasn’t he supposed to go along with the other two? “You don’t have a thing on Saturday, Mingyu. You have to be there to make sure that things don’t go wrong!” Seungkwan tells him, and at first he understands. He’s goes ‘oh, right, of course, yeah, sure,” but the moment what that situation entails finally dawns upon him— the fact that he has to be stuck in between you and Yoon Jeonghan for at least ten hours, maybe more— his blood runs cold and his face pales. There’s no way in hell he’s dealing with that.
“Why me?! Why can’t Joshua hyung go?”
Joshua answers with an offended look of bewilderment.
“Hey, it’s your assignment,” answers Jihoon. “And it was your idea to try and get them back together again. You have the moral obligation to make sure this shit actually works.”
There is no hope to get out of this. They adjourn the meeting and everyone starts filtering out the office— not without giving him looks of sympathy and pats on the back before leaving. “Good luck,” Wonwoo says in passing. Vernon sends him a salute before closing the door. Damn him and his meddling ass. He should’ve just let your relationship die out for good.
The day of reckoning comes. It’s five in the morning at the campus parking lot, you and Jeonghan on the opposite ends of his car, and Mingyu already wants to tuck himself in bed for the day. You’re tapping your feet in impatience, looking at your phone with a glare, while Jeonghan pockets his phone with a sigh and welcome’s himself into the front seat of Mingyu’s car with a distinct slam. You huff and do the same into the backseat.
Shit. This might actually be his last day on earth. Mingyu hurries into the driver’s before either of you yell at him to get moving.
“Tell Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan that they’re getting sanctioned for this,” grits Jeonghan. Mingyu closes the door and prepares himself for an inevitable six to eight hours of hell.
“The kids are sick and you want to penalize them?” you interject from the back. Mingyu notices Jeonghan’s jaw clench. He shuts his eyes tight and whispers a few prayers. “You’re abusing your authority, Mr. VCI. Cut them some slack.”
“Negligence of duty. Section one under General Prohibitions,” rebuts Jeonghan, making eye contact with you through the front view mirror. “Failure to inform ahead of time the inability to do a task or assignment delegated to them shall be considered an act of negligence on the part of the officer. I’m not abusing any authority, sweetheart. I am acting well within my functions. It’s too early for this kind of—”
Silence drops. So does the temperature in the car which at this point feels like negative fourteen degrees. Jeonghan stifles a cough and rolls down the window for air. You look down and flit through the pages of the document you brought. Mingyu’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and he wants to cry.
“Can we go now? Please? We have six places to visit and I really don’t want to be driving until midnight.”
“We can rotate,” you tell him. “Let’s switch drivers after every location.”
Something tells Mingyu that if he lets your explosive temper behind the wheel, this will not only be the last he’ll be seeing of his cherished car that his parents got him as a gift for his twenty-first birthday, but this will also be the last he’ll be seeing of this mortal realm as well.
“No, haha, it’s okay,” he answers, finally starting the engine. “You two have been working really hard for this event so the least I can do is drive.”
“Well, alright. But there better be no more emergencies like last time.”
Mingyu still doesn’t know what you mean by that. Nor does he know why you’ve been giving him herbal teas and digestive supplements. Anyway, the three of you finally hit the road and proceed to your first stop— all the way to Daecheon, which will take about an hour if traffic grants them kindness. Jeonghan rolls the windows back up at some point because besides the ice-cold tension between the both of you, it really is getting cold, and the sky has been cloudy since earlier, and the weather app is telling him that there’s a twenty percent chance of rain. Literally all odds are stacked against him today.
He does live long enough to get through three venues, thankfully. The first one, near Daecheon beach, you complained that the rooms were stuffy and Jeonghan told you to sleep by the ‘goddamned beach if you wanted to feel extra fresh.’ The second beach location couldn’t accommodate your amount of people. The third one— the hanok-style villa in Gyeongsang which you’ve just finished surveying and which Mingyu thought was really nice— Jeonghan said that there’s too many bugs for it to be conducive. You told him to wear a mosquito net ‘you fucking princess,’ while walking back to the car. At this point, it’s already past four in the afternoon. The eleven hours of being trapped in a car with your ex-boyfriend is probably finally getting to your head.
“You really could care less about your members’ well being as long as we do what you want, don’t you?”
“I wasn’t bitten by a single mosquito there. You’re just making problems up to discredit my—”
It’s getting to Mingyu’s head, too. One more minute in this enclosed space with the both of you and he’s jumping out the window.
“Anyway, let’s head to the next location,” you say with a sigh. “Woodland Springs Resort. Luckily, it’s only an hour away.”
Mingyu’s knuckles twitch on the steering wheel. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”
He catches your face through the mirror, brows furrowed with a frown. “Mingyu, let me drive this time. You’ve been at it for hours.”
“She’s right. Go sit in the back, we can take over.”
He has. He’s tired and annoyed and exhausted by the constant fear that you two might actually make a murder scene out of his precious car, that he’s pretty sure that him driving would soon become a road-risk. It would be fine, right? You two have probably expelled your energy, anyway. Or at least about to. Worst case scenario is that Jeonghan hyung pisses you off and you’d expertly crash the car in a way that would only kill him and leave you two alive.
“Okay,” Mingyu weakly breathes out. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”
He opens the car and gets out. So do you. So does Jeonghan. The three of you are out of the car. The math isn’t mathing.
“What are you doing?” you ask Jeonghan.
“I’m taking the wheel,” he simply says, already making his way over to the other side of the car.
“What are you talking about, Mingyu was talking to me.” You’re fast. Fast enough to swat away Jeonghan’s hand from the door handle to the driver’s seat. Jeonghan tightly presses his lips together and releases a huff of air. You look at him with sharp eyes with no intention of moving. Mingyu is literally, physically, and positionally caught in between this shit and he wishes he should’ve just floored it.
“I’m driving,” Jeonghan asserts. “You look barely awake, yourself. Do you plan on crashing us or something?”
The worried undertone completely flies over your head. “Are you saying I’m a bad driver?” Mingyu really doesn’t want to witness this argument at this proximity right now. Jeonghan sighs and digs into his hair.
“No, I just want you to—”
Cr—ack! Boom!
Suddenly, there’s thunder.
And when there’s thunder, there’s rain.
Pshhhhhhh!
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
“Hurry and get in, let’s go—”
Mingyu really wanted to yell at that moment. Thankfully, the sky beat him to it.
It starts pouring. The three of you scramble back into the car.
All things considered, you all decided that it’d be too dangerous to stay on the road, taking into account the weather and exhaustion and all, so you looked for a nearby inn through Google Maps and Jeonghan drove you there (yes, he won in the end and you’re still bitter in the backseat).
Boom! Another round of thunder, and the rain just continues to pour harder and harder. At this rate, you guys won’t be able to check out the rest of the locations today. Meaning, his prison sentence is bound to be extended. God freaking dammit. Mingyu continues to bitterly lament while rushing into the cabin inn. The door jingles upon entry. He lets out a sigh of relief upon being saved from the rain.
“Hi, good evening! Do you still have any rooms available?”
You’re there at the front desk doing your thing, being the externals head and all, while he and Jeonghan wait behind, damp and uncomfortable. He can see his hyung getting more and more impatient by the second, tapping his wet soles against the wooden flooring with his arms crossed. Mingyu can only sigh and hope to take a meditative shower soon, once you’ve booked the three of your rooms.
“Ah, yes,” says the lady behind the front desk. She looks at you, then spares a glance at him and Jeonghan in all their soggy glory, before flitting her eyes back at you. Okay what the hell. He knows they look terrible right now, but that was just rude. “Will it be for the three of you? Unfortunately, we only have one room left available, ma’am, peak season and all, and it’s only good for two people.
“That’s fine, we’ll take—”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Judgemental Front Desk Lady interrupts. “I meant a maximum of two people can occupy the room. It’s our policy.”
Well that’s stupid. The hell were you guys supposed to do, then? Run back to the car, get even more wet in the process, and look for another place to stay in this stupid weather? Mingyu can practically see a vein throbbing on the back of your head. He catches your shoulders lift and drop along with an exhale, a momentary pause before you respond. “Can’t you make an exemption? The weather is terrible outside and we really need a place to stay for the time being.”
Mingyu decides to look over and see how the other ticking time bomb is faring, but when he leers over to the side, Jeonghan is no longer beside him. Wet footsteps against wooden floors can be heard. He snaps his head back to the front desk and sees his hyung walking up to you— placing his arm around your freaking waist when he lands next to you, and alarm bells suddenly go off in Mingyu’s head.
“Babe, what’s the problem?”
Goosebumps prick all over his body.
What.
What the fuck?
“What’s wrong?”
Mingyu rubs his eyes, thinking that he just saw (and heard) wrong, but no. Yoon Jeonghan has indeed reigned claim over your waist. The fuck? He refocuses into your expression, expecting you to look disgusted and send a kick to his hyung’s shin, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you flash a look at Jeonghan, then back to the receptionist, peering down at the desk surface where her hand is resting, before looking back up at Jeonghan and nudging yourself closer to him with a sigh. What in the everloving fuck is going on?
“They’re saying that only two people can stay inside the room,” you lament. “This trip really isn’t working out for us. After our disaster of a honeymoon, the last thing I thought would happen was for us to get stranded in Gyeongsang in the middle of a storm.”
“Let’s just go look for another place to stay, sweetheart.”
“But it’s pouring outside! I can’t let you drive in the weather. It’s too dangerous.”
Honeymoon? What? What the hell is this improv sketch? Why the fuck is his hyung giving you the lovestruck eyes and why are you letting him look at you with lovestruck eyes? Why are you lovestruck-eyeing him back?
“Oh, you’re newlyweds?” asks the receptionist, and Mingyu didn’t think his eyebrows could scrunch up any further until he heard Jeonghan agree.
“We just got married last week,” he says with a sickeningly sweet tone.
“How lovely!”
“Actually, we just came back from our honeymoon at Geoje Island,” you add. “It’s a long trip, and we wanted to get home as soon as possible, but that...wasn’t exactly an option for us.” Suddenly, you turn your head back to look at him. Now, you’re all looking at him. Why are you all looking at him? This is fucking scary.
You lean into Jeonghan and whisper something into his ear. A look flashes on Jeonghan’s face. He doesn’t like this look.
“Brother, can you please give us a moment?”
There’s a pause. Mingyu’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar and he hesitantly points to himself. Brother? Me? Jeonghan nods and smiles and returns his attention back to you and the receptionist. The three of you are talking about something. In a significantly lower volume. While sending him looks of remorse in between. What the hell are you two bullshitting about now?
Not long after, Mingyu sees the lady drop a room key into your hands and sends you off with a smile. “Second floor. Thank you, and have a great evening!”
“Thanks!”
Mingyu isn’t exactly sure what just happened or how it happened, but at least you have a place to stay for the night? When the three of you hike up the stairs and spot the room with 203 labeled on the door, Mingyu decides that he needs to know what you fuckers talked about. “How did you do it?” He blocks the door before you could open it. “I thought only two people could use this? How did you get us the room?” Jeonghan and you exchange a look before relenting.
“Your fiance called off your engagement and you were so depressed that you followed us all the way to our Geoje,” you blankly respond.
“Our parents are on vacation so you couldn’t go to them. We were kind enough to let you third wheel on our honeymoon,” adds Jeonghan. Mingyu blinks. “But on the way back it started raining, so we’re stuck here for the moment. We noticed a wedding ring on Soonja’s finger, so it was pretty easy to get her sympathy.
Soonja. You even know the lady’s name, holy fuck. At least that explains the pitiful looks sent his way. But Mingyu is still very much perturbed. The hairs on his arms are still standing. “You two are con artists,” is all he can say back.
You roll your eyes and toss the key to him. “Hey, it got us the room.”
“Right,” Mingyu grunts, catching it mid-air. “You’re both so good at lying, even I’m starting to think you’re still married.”
The doorknob clatters open. You and Jeonghan quickly jump away from each other, and Jeonghan loses the steady hold he had around your waist since earlier. Mingyu stifles a grin. The alarm and embarrassment on both of your faces makes this day’s worth of stress all worth it.
“Hurry up and get in! I need a shower and a change of clothes, gosh.”
Fortunately, you three prepared extra articles of clothing for the trip, having anticipated sweat from the heat instead of getting pissed on by the rain clouds. Unfortunately, Mingyu lost at rock paper scissors so he gets to shower last. “There’s a drying rack in the bathroom,” you tell them upon exiting, a towel to your head before plopping down on the bed next to the window.
When Mingyu finishes showering, he hears you and Jeonghan arguing over something again. Cheol’s voice can be heard somewhere too. Upon re-entering the room, he spots you two occupying the floor right by the bed, a laptop sitting on the mattress that’s showing a very tired Seungcheol trying to cut in between your yelling.
“In hindsight, I think the beach in Daecheon is our best option. The kids can run around more freely there.”
“No, you were right about the mountains. The hanok-style villa is better suited for our event theme. We can just add bug repellent to our budget plan.”
“Listen to me for a second—”
“You’re the one who’s not—”
“This could have been an email,” says Seungcheol’s choppy voice thanks to the shitty reception. Yeah. Mingyu isn’t dealing with this. Over twelve hours of being a third party to your arguments is already enough, thank you very much. He drops down the unoccupied bed, already getting comfortable, and uses the nonstop swearing next to him as a lullaby.
Weird enough, it’s an effective lullaby because Mingyu slept like a rock. He yawns, stretches out of bed thanks to the early morning light through the curtains waking him. It’s clear out. The windows have watery dots painting it from the aftermath of the rain.
It’s pretty outside, Mingyu notices, but there’s something more eye-catching than the pretty natural scenery of the mountainside.
The laptop is still on and laying on the bed, pushed further to the edge with a low battery notification obscuring the open document of the event’s program that he’d seen Jeonghan preparing in the car yesterday. But what’s occupying most of the mattress is the both of you— you and Jeonghan— with your printed documents scattered around, surrounding a sight that he probably isn’t meant to see.
You’re laying on Jeonghan’s arm as a pillow, face turned to the side and slightly tucked into chest. Jeonghan’s chin is buried into the top of your head, his legs tangled with yours and the blanket has been kicked off the side. The morning light is showering the both of you like a spotlight. Mingyu snaps a picture. The kids are gonna eat this shit up.
*
It’s the day of the event, and Choi Seungcheol has not slept a wink since last night.
There were some last minute things he needed to take care of. Game props, printouts, and powerpoint presentations he forgot to quality check until ten in the evening. Grocery shopping for snacks, and an error in the bus booking. The works. But none of that matters now. They’ve all been settled, everyone has made it to the hanok villa in Gyeongsang in one piece with no asthma attacks nor heart related concerns occurring, and not once had you and Yoon Jeonghan argued ever since last night.
To be honest, it’s freaking him out a little. He wasn’t the only one who had to pull an all-nighter. His two Vice Chairs had to suffer with him too and the both of you have been extremely civil to the point of unease. It’s weird. It’s eerie. Like right now, as you two are welcoming the lines and lines of members in hanboks and traditional attire with matching smiles and pleasantries. You run out of program printouts and ask Jeonghan if he has any left, he gives you a stack, and the exchange ends without even a scoff, a swear, a mock, or even a look of derision.
This is...ominous, to say the least. It’s like the calm before the storm. Choi Seungcheol cannot rest easy.
“What the fuck is going on with them?”
It seems like he isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Currently, it’s lunchtime. They’d just finished presenting the constitution, bylaws, and internal rules and regulations of the organization. Now, they’re queueing up the kids to the food table.
Among the ushers are you and Jeonghan. Standing next to each other. You aren’t arguing but you aren’t talking to each other either. Joshua is the one who brings it up to the small group preparing the drinks right now— him, Soonyoung, and Vernon. If Joshua doesn’t know the reason for your sudden civility, then no one does. Junhui gets interrogated too, but he provides no answers, only confusion. “Wow. Wild,” is all Jun remarks. They have no idea if you two have made up, have settled your differences, have gotten back together, or all of the above.
It’s fucking with him, especially after weeks of being perpetually on the edge because of your cold war. Seungcheol calls Mingyu to a corner while everyone else is in the midst of preparing for the next part of the program. Mingyu jogs over, mildly scared and mildly confused.
“Hyung,” he calls out. “What’s up?”
“Our two Vice Chairs,” Seungcheol starts. He looks over at the center field where the members are sitting. Chan and the rest are still handing out the paper slips. He can still interrogate Mingyu. “You went with them for location scouting. Did something happen between them?”
Mingyu looks taken aback. “Uh.” He stiffens. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him.
“Kim Mingyu.”
“Define ‘something,’” Mingyu delays.
Now, this is suspicious. He definitely knows what that something is. Choi Seungcheol isn’t gonna let him off without squeezing the information out of him. “I don’t know,” he huffs. “Anything that could explain why they’re acting like—”
Seungcheol points in a direction. Mingyu’s eyes follow the trajectory, and his gaze lands on a very alarming scene: Yoon Jeonghan sitting on one of the monoblocks, Yoon Jeonghan seeing you pass by, Yoon Jeonghan standing up, Yoon Jeonghan stopping you with a tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan offering his seat to you, Yoon Jeonghan leaving the scene and busying himself with some other task, after you had taken his seat.
“Like that?”
Mingyu is now sweating. “Uhhhh,” he hesitantly drawls. Then his eyes dart around. Until he spots Seungkwan pass by with a stack of boxes. “Can I talk to my lawyer first?”
“Mingyu.”
“Let’s—let’s—let’s get back to work, hyung! I have to go—”
He attempts to chase Kim Mingyu down. Attempts. Because Mingyu suddenly has the speed of a track and fielder and drags Seungkwan away into the accommodation building, the hanok, and he’s suddenly pulled back by Chan, who’s holding a box containing two or three small pieces of folder up papers. “Hyung,” Chan starts. “It’s your turn to pick.”
Seungcheol furrows his brows. Drat. Kim Mingyu has escaped. “Pick what?”
“Your manito. Duh,” Chan answers. It’s the box he’s been passing out since earlier— a box filled with the names of all the attendees and whoever you pick out, you’re tasked to take care of them throughout the entire trip and pay them special attention. For relationship building, according to Jeonghan, when he pitched the idea. Seungcheol is aware of this mini activity, but he didn’t know he’d be participating. He stares at the remaining three papers. “Hurry up. I still have to give the rest to Seungkwan and Mingyu hyung.”
“Show me some respect,” he scolds, picking out a random name. “They ran inside. Storage, I think.”
Chan hums in acknowledgement and takes the box away. When he’s left, Seungcheol rolls open the piece of paper. Looking at the members gathered around the field right now (who are listening to the intermission number prepared by Seokmin and Jihoon) he notices that a few of the kids are already getting pretty chummy. He sighs, pretty sure that he picked out a new member that’s most probably three years younger than him. How is he supposed to overcome the generation gap? Won’t the kid find it weird if this old man suddenly starts acting close?
Much to his initial relief, a familiar name greets him. Yours, in big bold letters. That’s...that’s pretty doable. His favoritism for you is already blatant to the point that Soonyoung gets jealous. You’d been working hard since, well— the moment you’ve been a member of fucking SVT. He can just tell you to sit and rest and transfer your tasks over to the other guys.
“Hey.”
Seungcheol calls out to you, who’s sitting on the seat Jeonghan gave away earlier. Seokmin and Jihoon are hyping up the crowd (mostly Seokmin), but you’re hunched over in your seat, massaging your temples while looking over a document. “Chair,” you snap up, visibly tired and stressed (and unrested, by the way). “A few members are absent, so the number of members for each group for the team building later are mismatched. Should we keep it as is, or should we transfer some of them?”
A pang of guilt hits him. Christ, he’s been taking advantage of your competence and diligence. “Transfer, but leave that list with me. I’ll take care of it.” He lays a hand on your shoulder, urging you to go rest inside one of the hanoks for now. “You didn’t even nap on the bus. Go get some sleep. I’ll ask one of the guys to wake you before team building.”
You look up at him, smiling. Oh, his poor successor. He’s been overworking you to the bone. “Will do, Chair. Thanks.”
He mirrors your smile, watching fondly as you walk into one of the houses. It’s all warm and sweet. Until it’s not.
Seungcheol jolts. He feels a chill run down his spine. What the fuck?
He whips his head around, startled by the sudden cold flash. Then, from a few feet away, he spots Jeonghan, preparing the multicolored handkerchiefs for the team building, but has stopped arranging them by color because he is glaring daggers at him. Hello? What in the world? He’s about to approach, but then he staggers in his steps upon seeing you pass by Jeonghan’s station.
Jeonghan stops working, circling from behind the station to say something to you. You say something back— something that’s enough to tighten Jeonghan’s expression, and Seungcheol knits his brows. He can’t hear what you two are talking about, but he’s pretty sure it’s an argument. Oh god. It is an argument. You’ve got your angry face on and Jeonghan is raking his hair. Oh no. You two have been so well-behaved. You’ve been getting along so, so well lately. Is he at fault for ruining your peace?! How was he supposed to know your ex-boyfriend is a jealous bastard?! He was just doing his task and being nice to you!
“There goes all our progress.”
Seungcheol snaps his head back to see Jun. He’s sipping on a juice box, a leftover from lunch. There’s a good amount of disappointment in his face. “Pro—progress?”
Junhui pulls down the juice from his mouth, shaking his head. “Hyung. You’ve ruined everything.”
Now, what the fuck is this cryptic bullshit? Jun just walks away, leaving even more crumples in Seungcheol’s brain. Seokmin and Jihoon’s performance is about to end, the mic screeches, and an applause breaks out, but he’s still debating on what to do. Should he pry information out of Jun? Or run after the both of you? However, he gets to do neither because at the end of the intermission, Seokmin does something off-course.
He’s supposed to pass the mic to Seungkwan by now, to announce the short break before team building. But Seungkwan isn’t here, and Seokmin is still holding the mic, and the crowd is still cheering. He meets eyes with Seokmin onstage. A bad feeling hits his gut. And since the breakup meeting that happened a few weeks ago, Seungcheol has learned that whatever his gut is feeling is unquestionably correct.
“The show isn’t over yet! Let’s give it up to our dependable, hot, and arguably aging Chairperson— Choi Seungcheol! Woohoo!”
This.
This was not part of the program that he remembers approving.
Illit’s Magnetic, Viviz’s Maniac, and KIOF’s Midas Touch later (with his face mimicking a red and ripe cherry), Seungcheol was finally allowed off the stage. “Wow! That’s our Chair, everybody! Who knew he was hiding this kind of charm?” Seungcheol wants to die. Seokmin’s voice is cheery in the microphone, but his officer suddenly turns his face away from the mic to whisper something to him. “Hyung,” Seokmin’s voice is suddenly grave. “I got a text from Seungkwan. He says he can’t find the VCs.”
Oh, fuck this. He’s going to kill himself.
“Tell—tell the kids we’re gonna have some free time first before proceeding to the team building.” Seokmin nods. Seungcheol’s face is still very very hot, but he swallows the embarrassment aside for now to deal with this problem. You and Yoon Jeonghan can’t just disappear. You’re both leading two teams for the games. Well. Maybe he can give you a pass, but Jeonghan is still needed out there. He feels unreasonably wronged by him too for that glare earlier.
Seungcheol marches into the hanok. He spots an equally stressed looking Seungkwan inside the living area. Mingyu and Jihoon are there, too. So are Joshua, Vernon, and Chan. Why are they all here? They’re supposed to be preparing for the team building. These kids are slacking.
He’s gonna give them an earful later. For now, there’s a bigger issue to solve. “Where are the two?”
“We don’t know!” Seungkwan exclaims. “We’ve been looking for them too.”
He hears a sniffle come from one of them. It’s from Soonyoung. “The last I’ve seen them, they were arguing.” Seungcheol gulps. Maybe…by any chance…that may have been his fault? “This happened with my parents too. And they came back with divorce papers.”
“Stop projecting your unresolved familial trauma onto them,” Jihoon sighs. “They aren’t your parents.”
“I’ve sent a text to Wonwoo and Minghao hyung,” Vernon brings up. “Maybe they’ve seen them.”
At that moment, Minghao enters the living area. Seven heads snap to his direction. Minghao stops in his tracks. “What?” He looks awfully relaxed, not looking as though he had just dealt with two ex-lovers who say they hate each other and that it’s over, but have too much sexual tension for their assertion to be believable. In fact, he looks quite at peace. Satisfied, even. Accomplished. This is fucking suspicious. “Isn’t it time for the team building activities?”
“Hao,” Seungcheol starts. “Have you seen the two Vice Chairs?”
Minghao looks at them. There’s a pause of anticipation. There’s literally no reason for this suspense build-up. “Oh,” Hao exhales. Why are they all waiting for the pin to drop? “I did.”
What they hear next, they never could have been prepared for.
“I locked them in a closet.”
The pin has dropped.
Seungcheol is the first to speak up.
“You...you what?” he starts. “Come again?”
“They were arguing,” Minghao shrugs. “I got annoyed.”
Seungkwan’s mouth is hanging open. “You— you got annoyed,” he stammers. “So you…”
“Locked them in a closet,” Minghao finishes. “Yeah.”
It doesn’t hit them at first. Then it does. It hits them hard.
They all exchange looks. In a matter of soundless seconds, they immediately run to the direction Minghao just came from. What does he mean he locked you and Jeonghan in the closet, why would he lock you two in the closet, locking you two in the closet is a recipe for shit-eating disaster, does he want Yoon Jeonghan to fucking die?
“Shit, what if Jeonghan hyung is dead?”
At least they’re all on the same page. They come to a screeching halt upon reaching the room at the end of the hallway, but there is no sign of either of you. The only semblance of humanity within the vicinity is Wonwoo, who is sitting at a table, headphones on, laptop open, and typing without a care in the world.
Seungcheol’s eyes dart around the room. Closet. Closet. There’s an indication of a sliding door at the opposite wall. He walks up to it, hesitantly with shaky steps, his heart hammering against his chest. The others inch behind him in caution. Sweat starts trailing down from his forehead. He reaches out for the handle, one hand outstretched, and then—
“I wouldn’t open that if I were you.”
Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the tension. He freezes. They all look back at the man by the desk, unaffectedly writing his documents, the sound of keyboard clicking filling the gaps in the air. “Why?” Seungcheol chokes out. Thunk. Their heads snap back to the closet. He feels Soonyoung clutch him from behind.
“There was yelling from in there until a moment ago,” is Wonwoo’s simple answer. “I think they’ve moved on to something else.”
Another tense pause fills the room. “Who...who was yelling?” Jihoon raises. “What kind of yelling? Why didn’t you check if anything was wrong?”
Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, momentarily taking his eyes off from the laptop to give their huddled group a look of disgust. “And risk walking in on them making out or something? No, thanks.” Then resumes what he’s doing. They all look at each other. Surely, that can’t be the case, right? You’ve got more pride on your shoulders than to fold for Yoon Jeonghan just because of some contrived forced proximity. It’s more likely that you’ve found an opportunity to strangle him. To kill him in cold blood. Which is why they’ve all run here out of concern right now.
“Why would there be yelling if they’re making out?!” Mingyu exclaims, concerned.
“I don’t know the kind things they’re into,” Wonwoo leers at them. “And frankly, I don’t want to know.”
“Then...what are you doing here, hyung?” Vernon prods. “Of all places.”
Once more, Wonwoo stops typing to grace them with an answer. “This is the only spot with good reception.” This feels like a fever dream. Seungcheol does not know what to do. His attention is directed back to the closed closet door, hearing another...thud coming from within. He locks eyes with Seungkwan. And then Mingyu. And then Jihoon. Holy shit. In his four years of Chairmanship over SVT, this, by far, has been his biggest obstacle yet.
The officers before him never warned him about this. What exactly is the best course of action here? What would result in the least amount of emotional, mental, and physical repercussions? Leave the door alone? Unlock it and witness horrors untold? There’s still an event they have to manage. Seokmin is probably freaking out outside right now. Yet here they are, watching the unmoving and locked closet door with uncertainty and caution, like it’s an oracle that will show them the way, that will give them a command to do something. Anything. And, much to their surprise and horror—
“Mr. Chair.”
It does.
“Would you please unlock the door?”
The oracle is wearing the sound of your voice? No, wait. It is your voice. From behind the door. “Holy shit,” he hears one of them hiss out from behind. Holy shit indeed. Seungcheol knows better than to test your temper. Quickly, he reaches out for the handle, clicks it open, and a force stronger than his slides the door gaping and completely open, revealing the dark and until interiors of the closet.
You emerge from the darkness. So does Jeonghan. Alive. Unstrangled. Maybe? That’s up for debate because there are some visible marks on his throat. Seungcheol pretends not to see.
“W—welcome back…?” Soonyoung hesitantly drawls out. You walk out from the closet, Jeonghan trailing behind you slightly from behind. You’re both still wearing the in theme hanboks, but the fabrics are clearly disheveled. And loose. And Jeonghan is hooking his fingers on the hand lagging behind you. And looking at the back of your head with a concerning amount of heart eyes.
You don’t mention a thing about it. “I believe we are behind schedule,” you simply say. “Team building, right? Let’s head off to our posts now.”
They don’t say anything about it either. Seungcheol clears his throat, creaking his body back to the direction of escape. “Y—yes. Everyone is waiting.” The rest follow. You all exit the area except for Wonwoo, who’s still doing his work. When Seungcheol turns back to check on you two— you know, just in case— he immediately regrets it.
Jeonghan is still a step behind you. But he leans slightly forward, dipping his head down to reach your ears. His mouth moves, whispering something. A silent laugh cracks through your features. A laugh. Not once has laughter occurred since the beginning of this predicament. Not a. Single. Instance. You bump your elbow against Jeonghan’s chest. Jeonghan continues to move behind you with a thin smile on his face.
He sees nothing. They see nothing. They leave the house. They immediately scatter to inhale fresh, free air.
“Hyung! Oh my god where have you guys been?! The members are waiting!”
An unspoken agreement was formed. There will be no further mention about this occurrence. Not a single word.
*
“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 27, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”
“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”
It’s the first Executive Board meeting after SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. The agenda for today is just a feedbacking session on the said event. Seungcheol yawns, not bothering to cover it up with the clipboard and Seungkwan sends him a dirty look for it. Wonwoo carries on with the roll call, one after the after stating their attendance for the meeting today. It’s the same routine for the most part. Seungcheol glances at the empty spaces on both his left and right. He taps on the table with a pen impatiently.
“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting,” Wonwoo drones one. The two seats are still empty. Seungcheol digs his pen into the wooden surface. “Vice Chairperson-External?”
No answer. Wonwoo continues.
“Vice Chairperson-Internal?
Still no answer. Wonwoo continues.
“Chairperson, Mr. Chair?”
“Present,” Seungcheol gruffs. God damn it, where the hell are you and Jeonghan? This feels like a rerun of their group traumatic experience last week. “Proceed.”
“Yes, Mr. Chair. There are twelve out of fourteen officers present. We are in quo—”
The door swings open.
You and Jeonghan enter in a hurry.
“We’re sorry we’re late!”
Again. Seungcheol feels the horrible, wrinkly slap of deja vu. His eyes follow while you and Jeonghan rush to your seats, out of breath and in a hurry. Joshua has stopped flicking origami frogs on the table. Seokmin and Mingyu pause in between chair spins. Junhui’s mouth is glued to the latte straw while darting his eyes wide back and forth, between you and Jeonghan. And Minghao cannot be bothered by any more relationship problems.
Wonwoo clears his throat. “Fourteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair,” he amends.
“Yes, thank you,” Seungcheol sighs out. “Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting?”
Much to his surprise, the meeting proceeds quite...smoothly. Wonwoo reads out the agenda. No objections. They start the feedbacking session. No problems. The incident with the closet is not even mentioned. Not once. Not even a hint despite the shared knowing looks when Seungcheol asks if there are still more matters to discuss.
“No more, Mr. Chair,” Vernon confirms. Seungcheol nods. This is going awfully well. When’s the curveball going to hit him? When? “Thank you, Mr. Auditor. Since there is nothing else on the agenda, let’s proceed to announcements.” He looks at his clipboard. There’s only one thing scribbled under announcements. It’s not his handwriting. Seungcheol squints. “Lee Chan’s...pool…barbecue...dance party on the 29th?”
There’s a pause. Seungcheol looks up from the clipboard.
“What is this?”
All eyes are on Lee Chan. He looks like he enjoys the attention. “Lee Chan’s pool barbecue dance party on the 29th,” he answers, as a matter of fact. “You’re all invited.”
This is the curveball he’s been expecting. Seungcheol feels a knot in his temples. “How many times do I have to say this?” he releases a heavy breath. “Announcements on the order of business are reserved for org-related announcements. It is not an opportunity for you to invite everyone to your parties, nor to your outings, nor to your nephew’s baptismal shower, Soonyoung.”
The man in question swallows down a gulp. Seungcheol sighs for the nth time.
“I hope that is crystal clear.” He’s so done. He’s so tired. When is adjournment coming? Why can’t it come sooner? “Anyway, do we have any other announcements? Relevant announcements, rather.” Seungcheol sees you with your arm up. He feels a rush of relief. “Yes, Ms. VCE, you are raising your hand?”
You put your hand down, allowing it to rest gingerly on the table when you say, “Thank you for the acknowledgement, Mr. Chair.” You look like your usual self— in between smiling pleasantly and staring blankly. Seungcheol nods, prodding you to continue. You do. “I would like to put the matter of my resignation on today’s table, Mr. Chair.”
“Oh, yes, the matter of your—”
A screeching halt. Seungcheol’s tongue stops working. He stares at you, wide-eyed.
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
“My resignation.” You pull out a white, ghostly envelope from somewhere. His throat tightens. “I am filing it today and hoping for its immediate attention.”
It’s like time stops completely. The entire office is frozen. They wait for you to say it’s a joke. Any moment now. Please.
“Mr. Chair?” you call out. “Allow me to repeat. I will be resigning from my position as Vice Chairperson-External. What process do we need to undergo to finalize this?”
You don’t say it’s a joke. You are dead serious.
“No?!”
“Did—did I hear that right res—res—resigna—hiccup!”
“Breathe in, Seokmin. Breathe out. Yes that’s—”
“Why would you do this to us?! Why?!”
“Oh my god, it’s happening to me again, it’s happening to me again—”
“What do you mean resignation, what the hell are you talking about?” Seungkwan shoots up from his seat, slamming his palms against the table in distress. “Aren’t you two back together?! Why would you resign?!”
It’s a mess. It’s a room of hysteria and panic except for you, him and Jeonghan. Seungcheol is trying his best to...understand. To not throttle you and shake you violently because why? Where did he go wrong? Has he not been treating you well enough? Did he need to compliment you more? Do you need more compensation?
Whatever the reason is, you’re looking awfully calm being the recipient of manic yells and hyperventilated cries of anguish. Jeonghan, too, is quiet. He’s just seated there, arms on the armrest, like he is in a completely different room altogether. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him. Did he do this? Did he talk you into resigning? That bastard— how could he! Seungcheol’s heart is broken, not just once, but twice. First, from his dearest protege. Second, from his (formerly) trusted right hand man.
“Ahem.”
Before things could get worse (i.e. Soonyoung and Seokmin full-on sobbing and begging on their knees), you catch their attention. You look at them, calmly, and, with a carefully enunciated voice, begin your piece that brings all of them to silence.
“I sincerely apologize for the trouble that our personal issues have caused to SVT,” you begin, a singular glance at Jeonghan. Seungcheol bites his tongue. Traitor. Evil man. Evil jealous man. “I am well aware that my recent behavior has led to some lapses in the organization’s operations, clearly seen in the management of our latest event. We have all heard the feedback, the concerns—where things went wrong. As you have witnessed, it is quite difficult for us to separate our personal feelings from our professional work here in the org, which was the root of most of our experienced problems.”
That is not true! No one has the best work-life balance than you! Granted, there was an issue just earlier in the month, but Seungcheol can overlook that! He can overlook it as long as you take back your resignation, and take on his spot as Chairperson next semester!
“Which is exactly why I’m resigning,” you decisively say. Shit. “There were a lot of…ingredients that eventually led to the unforeseen outburst between Mr. VCI and I during one of our previous meetings. One of those ingredients was my affiliation with the organization. The rest of the details can be found in my resignation letter. Thank you for allowing me to serve thus far.”
It’s like a needle pricked most everyone in the room and left them deflated. Chan looks sunken. Even Jihoon. Minghao just looks like he’d been expecting this. Kim Mingyu looks like he cannot accept this.
So he jerks out of his seat, springing to his feet, and points an accusatory finger at Yoon Jeonghan.
“You!” Mingyu shrieks. “Say something!”
“Hyung,” Seokmin adds onto the pile. He’s choked up and about to cry. “Are you just gonna let this happen?”
For the first time since, Jeonghan finally speaks up. But his tone is…sourer than expected. “What do you want me to say?” he starts. It makes everyone jolt. “That you’ve been overworking my girlfriend since freshman year to the point that we started arguing about it because she’s been skipping meals and sleep and taking care of herself just to manage the org?”
Even you flinch. There’s an apologetic look on your face, but there’s no denial.
Jeonghan lets out a sigh. Oh, Seungcheol realizes. Oh. Oh, crap. Maybe. Maybe he and SVT had a lot more to do with your breakup that he initially thought. The workload. The shit you had to catch and bury with your bare hands whenever the org had problems, had too much to do, had one person in mind to fix up any messes made. Maybe they’ve been relying on you too much. Maybe he’s been relying on you too much and Yoon Jeonghan noticed that.
Of course Jeonghan would notice that. He’s been dating you under their nose for god knows how long. That explains why Jeonghan would suddenly act pissy towards him. It was whenever you’d been tossed in a sinkhole of work.
Once more, you clear your throat. “I have immense attachment to this organization. However, my priorities have shifted. I am sincerely grateful and sorry, but I hope all of you understand.”
It starts clicking inside each head, one-by-one. It’s slow. It’s hard to accept, but they eventually do. Seokmin eventually stops sniffling. Soonyoung stands up to give you a hug. This was a loss for all of them. All of them except you and Yoon Jeonghan.
“Hyung, but why aren’t you resigning?”
Jun pokes the bear one last time. It’s a question in all their heads, and Jeonghan’s expression alone isn’t enough to answer it.
“Jun-ah, do you want me gone?” Jeonghan replies, a little too seriously. They freeze. Then he laughs. “It’s going to be difficult to re-elect someone at this point, so I’ll be taking over some of her workload for the remainder of the semester. The rest of you should do the same as one last thank you to our now outgoing VCE. You owe her that much, at least.”
Before Jeonghan can start nagging, you quickly overtake his field of vision from his left. “Don’t worry, I’ll be finishing up my pending tasks, Mr. Chair. I will also be leaving some notes behind for everyone’s ease of—”
“What did I tell you about being more considerate to yourself?” the one from his rightbutts in. “These kids can handle it on their own. You don’t have to micromanage them. I’m begging you, stop overworking yourself.”
Okay, he sharply inhales through his nose. Seungcheol gets it. They all get it. No need to act all sweet in front of their faces and during org hours. It’s sending shivers down his spine. All of their spines. None of this spine shivering is healthy. “Please leave your resignation letter on the table. We will give some time for the other officers to read and consider it before making a final decision during the next meeting.”
You smile. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.”
“Thank you for your service, Ms. VCE.”
It hurts him to say this. It really does. You were the perfect successor. Now, who the hell from this pile of twelve men is he supposed to pick to be the next Chairperson? Does he have to— god forbid— retain his position?
i dont know what to say other than what the fuck!! seriously!!!
like wow, im speechless, it was so well written the humor was on point the story telling was on point, like omg its not often you get a story so well written even after being from the side character(s) pov, the pure torment seungcheol goes through is soo damn fun to read, soonyoung baby, i love you, i will resolve your mommy and daddy issues its ok baby!!
then gosh mingyu i love him and the trauma the poor boy will bear through out life now :(
i loved this through and through, i was badly waiting for this to come and must i say it didnt disappoint at alll!
if you're interested in a seventeen/caratblr based community on here, please like and rb this post!!! when it was first announced, i made one on a whim not knowing how to use it, but since it's been approved and created now, i think it could be a great place to share gif resources for svt such as links for content creators, or just fun posts in general for anyone!!
Genre: angst, established relationship, hint of fluff
Warning(s): themes of grief, loss, major character death, mourning and hospitalization (im not a doctor so please excuse my medical knowledge)
Summary: You never thought of your husbands life as fleeting. But time did its dutiful job of reminding you so.
Word count: 1.1k
Other works
Beta reader: none
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask. Moreover, if you loved it, don't forget to reblog and help me reach a wider audience. So please dont be a silent reader.
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
You wore the baby blue dress, adorned your eyes with waterproof mascara, and got ready to go out. Your son shouted from the kitchen, “Mom, I packed one more hotteok for you. Have it with Dad. He will love it.”
Smiling at how thoughtful of a young man your son had grown up to be, you walked out of the bedroom to caress his head. “I will eat it. Don’t worry so much.”
The boy gave you a hug in return, promising to visit you with his wife sometime soon. After all, the girl was pregnant and would need as much care from you as possible during her pregnancy.
With that, you walked out, ready to meet your husband for his birthday lunch, which was packed in the heat-retaining bag with you. It was almost an hour’s drive to the place from where you lived. The commute never got easier, no matter the time or the day.
You got into the taxi; you were never one to learn driving. It was just not needed, as someone at your house was always there to help you commute, be it your husband or your son. So at times like this, you felt the absence of the skill.
But it was not like life didn’t go on. It was not something you wanted to change at this age. You were scared of banging the car into some random tree and feeling the wrath of your husband for causing damage to the love of his life, Vivian. Yes, that indeed was the name of the car. And yes, it was the great idea of your husband to name it so. Some might say you both didn’t have a daughter, but he would like to disagree with them, because you both obviously had Vivian. You sometimes suspected he loved that godforsaken car more than you.
The man was shameless enough to agree with those accusations, but he was too cute to argue with, so you let him be.
The time passed inside the car thinking about your husband, the times you both had spent together, all those rocky yet satisfying moments, and all those nights you both ditched all your friends and family to stay in together, basking in each other’s presence. It was one of those feelings that made you warm and mushy inside, no matter what.
----
“Do you think we will be together forever?” Minghao asks you. It's been a year since you both tied the knot after dating for two, and yet you still feel like your breath stops every time you see him. He just has that effect on you; it's not reasonable, but it's true.
“What do you mean? You are stuck with me. I will hold onto you no matter how much you try to escape!” you say as you pull him in for a kiss.
Satisfied with your answer, he happily goes back to doodling in his diary.
----
As you walked into the hospital, you gave the guard a kind smile, which he returned. After all, when you frequent a place long enough, you end up becoming acquainted with almost everyone who works there.
Quickly, you walked to your husband's cabin. As you entered the room, you could hear your lover whining at the nurse about something, a sound that immediately ceased as his eyes found you.
Without wasting any time, he stretched his arm towards you, his eyes asking for you to hold him. As you embraced him, the nurse walked out, giving you both privacy.
“Happy birthday, my love,” you said quietly, as he rested his head on your chest.
“What did you bring me?” came a quiet whine from underneath you. Laughing, you let go of the man and began to show him, one by one, the feast you had prepared for him.
The minute he laid his eyes upon them, his face broke into a childlike smile, waiting for you to complete plating his food so he could enjoy them.
After all, it had been a long time since his doctors allowed him to have something you brought for him. Within seconds of putting the food on the plate, it was gone. Not that you were complaining, but it was still a record for the man. Never had you seen him devour your cooking this fast.
“Slow down,” you had told him, but the man had all his attention focused on the food, too much to care for his wife.
The nurse didn’t let you stay in the room long after that. The authorities were a bit too strict about maintaining the rules for your liking, but it was okay.
With a last meaningful glance at each other, you exited the room to meet his doctor to complete the procedures for his discharge.
----
“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N,” your husband cries out loud from your embrace, and you hold him, rocking gently.
“But you promised you would hold on. What will I do without you?” you say, trying to hold back your tears.
Looking at you, he wipes the stray tears that have escaped. “I can’t live like this. It’s too much. I’m three surgeries in already, and I don’t see any hope anymore. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. Plus, this place feels too suffocating for me to be in.”
Not being able to come up with a rebuttal, you just stay as you are, trying to understand why it has to be him who goes through so much pain while simultaneously pleading with some supernatural being to give you all his pain.
That night you both spend crying. But what has to be done will be done.
----
Minghao had been dancing most of his life. Even after he stopped being a professional dancer, he was a dancer at heart. The constant heart attacks that resulted in him being permanently attached to life support, along with the surgeries, killed him inside. They slowly murdered the dancer in him. He lost his sense of freedom, something he treasured the most.
It was then he realized nothing was worth his freedom, not even his life. So there you were, arguing with the doctor to let him be discharged, even though he was at high risk of having another heart attack and should be constantly monitored.
“I understand that, sir, but this is what my husband wants, so I would like you to prepare his discharge papers,” you said, persistent.
“Sure, ma’am. It will be done by tomorrow,” the doctor said reluctantly after realizing there was no winning with you.
After completing the procedure, you went back to your husband to give him the good news about going back home the next day. He looked happy. You could see it in his eyes, and you were happy for him.
If only you had known that the next day you would take your husband away from that hospital for good, but not in the way you had hoped to.
That night, Minghao suffered another attack, one that was hellbent on taking him away from you. It ended up succeeding.
As you sat there at the funeral home, beside the beautiful picture of your smiling husband, and with your son greeting the guests coming to pay their respects, you couldn’t help the tears from falling as you thought of the happy memories you both had shared and how even eternity was too little time for you to spend with him.
Summary:
Daichi is annoyed after practice, thankfully you look a bit too delectable today.
Word count: 650
Other works
Beta reader:
None
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
Daichi loves hearing you blabber as he rams into you with all his might. It's not always that he gets this horny and needy, but on the days he does, you are in for a ride—literally!
It started right after he got back from practice, extremely angry at himself for not being up to the mark and messing up the practice for the whole team.
The moment he came in, he immediately searched for you, only to find you asleep on the couch. It's not a rare sight to see you waiting for him, but those shorts paired with his tee were the breaking point for him.
You looked so beautiful lying there all pretty for him.
No matter how freaky you both were in bed, the topic of consent always took first place. So when he first heard you suggest trying somnophilia, he was a bit concerned, to say the least.
But the first time you both tried it, it was like heaven for him. So, the sight of you sleeping in shorts was too inviting for him to resist.
Immediately going towards you, he quickly removed your shorts and latched his mouth onto your cunt, hungrily lapping at it to create some wetness.
Your reaction was a bit slow, but he could slowly but surely hear the small moans emitting from you. Soon enough, you were awake, the feeling of his mouth on your now throbbing cunt too much for your sleep-induced brain to handle, so it woke you up.
Your moans immediately increased in volume, prompting Daichi to add a finger along with his his already attached mouth. Your hands soon found their place in his hair, pulling on it.
"Tastes so good I could die here," he says before continuing to abuse your pussy.
Within seconds, you are bursting onto him, squirting all over the man's face with a loud moan of his name. And being the man he subhe wastes not a drop of your precious cum lapping it all up like a starving man.
As Daichi emerges from your pussy, he gives you a look of extreme need. Within seconds, you are underneath him.
"Gonna fuck you so well," he says as he takes off his pants, letting his throbbing cock breathe. It's been almost five years since you and Daichi have been together, but the size of his cock still shocks you.
You used to wonder how it would fit, but from previous experience, you know it will. He immediately sinks into your puffy warm hole with a moan.
"How are you still so fucking tight? Did I not prep you enough?" he groans. Before you can respond, he starts moving, inducing moans after moans from you.
"So good Mura," you can barely form a sentence with how good he makes you feel. A ring of thick cream forming at the base of his cock due to the endless thrusting.
"Will fucking fill you up with my seed until your tits are all swollen with milk," he says while thrusting into you with all his might.
"Do you want that? My babies?" He rams into you like his life depends on it.
"Need, need your cum," you are just a blabbering mess at this point, barely able to form a sentence. The pleasure is so intense that it makes you almost cry. Soon, you reach your climax, cumming all over his dick, making him reach his peak too.
After a few loud moans, and a few "you milk my dick so well," you both calm down. He immediately moves over to hold you, making you rest your head on his chest.
"You want me to make us a warm bath?" he asks gently while rubbing your shoulder.
You nod, numb from all the lovemaking. Kissing your forehead, he immediately takes you to the bathroom to clean you up and get you ready for bed.
The End
a/n: thank you so much for reading, please don’t forget to leave a review
Genre: angst, established relationship, hint of fluff
Warning(s): themes of grief, loss, mourning and hospitalization (im not a doctor so please excuse my medical knowledge)
Summary: You never thought of your husbands life as fleeting. But time did its dutiful job of reminding you so.
Word count: 1.1k
Other works
Beta reader: none
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask. Moreover, if you loved it, don't forget to reblog and help me reach a wider audience. So please dont be a silent reader.
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
You wore the baby blue dress, adorned your eyes with waterproof mascara, and got ready to go out. Your son shouted from the kitchen, “Mom, I packed one more hotteok for you. Have it with Dad. He will love it.”
Smiling at how thoughtful of a young man your son had grown up to be, you walked out of the bedroom to caress his head. “I will eat it. Don’t worry so much.”
The boy gave you a hug in return, promising to visit you with his wife sometime soon. After all, the girl was pregnant and would need as much care from you as possible during her pregnancy.
With that, you walked out, ready to meet your husband for his birthday lunch, which was packed in the heat-retaining bag with you. It was almost an hour’s drive to the place from where you lived. The commute never got easier, no matter the time or the day.
You got into the taxi; you were never one to learn driving. It was just not needed, as someone at your house was always there to help you commute, be it your husband or your son. So at times like this, you felt the absence of the skill.
But it was not like life didn’t go on. It was not something you wanted to change at this age. You were scared of banging the car into some random tree and feeling the wrath of your husband for causing damage to the love of his life, Vivian. Yes, that indeed was the name of the car. And yes, it was the great idea of your husband to name it so. Some might say you both didn’t have a daughter, but he would like to disagree with them, because you both obviously had Vivian. You sometimes suspected he loved that godforsaken car more than you.
The man was shameless enough to agree with those accusations, but he was too cute to argue with, so you let him be.
The time passed inside the car thinking about your husband, the times you both had spent together, all those rocky yet satisfying moments, and all those nights you both ditched all your friends and family to stay in together, basking in each other’s presence. It was one of those feelings that made you warm and mushy inside, no matter what.
----
“Do you think we will be together forever?” Minghao asks you. It's been a year since you both tied the knot after dating for two, and yet you still feel like your breath stops every time you see him. He just has that effect on you; it's not reasonable, but it's true.
“What do you mean? You are stuck with me. I will hold onto you no matter how much you try to escape!” you say as you pull him in for a kiss.
Satisfied with your answer, he happily goes back to doodling in his diary.
----
As you walked into the hospital, you gave the guard a kind smile, which he returned. After all, when you frequent a place long enough, you end up becoming acquainted with almost everyone who works there.
Quickly, you walked to your husband's cabin. As you entered the room, you could hear your lover whining at the nurse about something, a sound that immediately ceased as his eyes found you.
Without wasting any time, he stretched his arm towards you, his eyes asking for you to hold him. As you embraced him, the nurse walked out, giving you both privacy.
“Happy birthday, my love,” you said quietly, as he rested his head on your chest.
“What did you bring me?” came a quiet whine from underneath you. Laughing, you let go of the man and began to show him, one by one, the feast you had prepared for him.
The minute he laid his eyes upon them, his face broke into a childlike smile, waiting for you to complete plating his food so he could enjoy them.
After all, it had been a long time since his doctors allowed him to have something you brought for him. Within seconds of putting the food on the plate, it was gone. Not that you were complaining, but it was still a record for the man. Never had you seen him devour your cooking this fast.
“Slow down,” you had told him, but the man had all his attention focused on the food, too much to care for his wife.
The nurse didn’t let you stay in the room long after that. The authorities were a bit too strict about maintaining the rules for your liking, but it was okay.
With a last meaningful glance at each other, you exited the room to meet his doctor to complete the procedures for his discharge.
----
“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N,” your husband cries out loud from your embrace, and you hold him, rocking gently.
“But you promised you would hold on. What will I do without you?” you say, trying to hold back your tears.
Looking at you, he wipes the stray tears that have escaped. “I can’t live like this. It’s too much. I’m three surgeries in already, and I don’t see any hope anymore. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. Plus, this place feels too suffocating for me to be in.”
Not being able to come up with a rebuttal, you just stay as you are, trying to understand why it has to be him who goes through so much pain while simultaneously pleading with some supernatural being to give you all his pain.
That night you both spend crying. But what has to be done will be done.
----
Minghao had been dancing most of his life. Even after he stopped being a professional dancer, he was a dancer at heart. The constant heart attacks that resulted in him being permanently attached to life support, along with the surgeries, killed him inside. They slowly murdered the dancer in him. He lost his sense of freedom, something he treasured the most.
It was then he realized nothing was worth his freedom, not even his life. So there you were, arguing with the doctor to let him be discharged, even though he was at high risk of having another heart attack and should be constantly monitored.
“I understand that, sir, but this is what my husband wants, so I would like you to prepare his discharge papers,” you said, persistent.
“Sure, ma’am. It will be done by tomorrow,” the doctor said reluctantly after realizing there was no winning with you.
After completing the procedure, you went back to your husband to give him the good news about going back home the next day. He looked happy. You could see it in his eyes, and you were happy for him.
If only you had known that the next day you would take your husband away from that hospital for good, but not in the way you had hoped to.
That night, Minghao suffered another attack, one that was hellbent on taking him away from you. It ended up succeeding.
As you sat there at the funeral home, beside the beautiful picture of your smiling husband, and with your son greeting the guests coming to pay their respects, you couldn’t help the tears from falling as you thought of the happy memories you both had shared and how even eternity was too little time for you to spend with him.
