“Aight aight birdie, I got you,” he chuckles and reaches to the cooler where they keep the cold glasses. He doesn’t bother to wave his hands at the raven to get it to move away from the taps, he just ever so gently taps his shoulder o indicate that the winged friend could chill there while he pours him up.
This should unnerve him- he is talking to a massive black bird for crying out loud. Audibly too- anyone could waltz right in and see him talking wih the bird and decide he’s gone mad. But then again, Dakota had come to see a great many things on this island where they are. He knew tales of gods and goddesses here that could shift from their current vessels to animlas and back likeit was nothing. He knows damn well if the god wanted to, Eros himself could swap his body to make it look female- and it would be more than some good Fenty beauty at work there. So what’s it people if he was talking with a full sized raven?
“I don’t know much about nothing, but how you planning on drinking this with a beak like that?” It’s light conversation that he keeps, only half sure that whoeer is hiding in this guise will reveal themselves once the drink is set down at the bar. He moves quickly, setting down the coaster and the small bowl of flavored peanuts for the other until they manifest hands to offer a menu to.
“Ya gonna show me your human face or am I truly off my rocker?”
The tap on Dakota’s shoulder is all Sehun needs to fly up in a loud fluttering of wings, before landing on the other male’s shoulder. He tries his best not to put his claws in too deeply when he tries to find his balance perched atop the man’s shoulder. Soon he’s looking down at the pint of mead being prepared for him with a gleaming eye.
Following his friend’s movements, Sehun has every intention of shifting to his human form once the drink is ready to be able to actually drink it. That is, of course, until Dakota wonders aloud how he would drink as a raven. And his decision to do exactly that is set in stone when the latter question rolls off Dakota’s lips.
Hopping down from the man’s shoulder, his wings work again to allow him to land safely on the counter right next to the glass. Temporarily looking up at the other demigod, as if making sure the man won’t be a threat, he then inspects the bowl of peanuts. Rummaging through them with his beak, he basically throws half of them out of the bowl and onto the counter, then discards the entire idea of having peanuts as if he’s too thirsty for mead to care.
Hopping over to the glass, he leaves only a short moment of silence before he simply dunks his head into the liquid as if to start drinking. But of course his raven shape is not made to drink the way a mammal would, and so he’s really just hanging with his head in a glass of mead until he finally gives in and pulls his head back out so he can tilt it backwards and allow gravity to let the mead run into his digestive track.
Once the liquid is out of his beak, he promptly dunks his head back into the drink, continuing the same movement of dunking and tilting his head over and over, slowly but surely starting to empty the glass.
(...) “Oh,” she exhaled, quite longing, “how I love you.” Leaning in then to kiss the love of her life, at the same time she began to heal him. Knowing she was probably never going to experience anything as remotely as sweet and touching like this, she was sure to cherish this memory until the day she died. But for now, she was pouring most of her life force into the demigod to save him. Embracing him both with her arms as her ability Jinah was exhilarated as she let herself fall against and into him. Trusting him to take good care of her for when she’d lose her consciousness, she pulled back from their kiss right on time to give him a content, somewhat lazy smile, before she fell into blackness, her body going limb.
He’s still smiling brightly and widely when Jinah replies to him, the words passing him by almost completely. It’s not very important what she’s saying anyway, all that matters is that she knows the things he has said, that she’s aware of the way he feels about her and of how much she means to him. Not that that says a lot about who she is as a person, because really what worth does a person hold because he loves them? That’s nothing to brag about, nothing to write home about, nothing to even smile about. But there she is, smiling anyway, so widely and brightly and he wishes he could do anything and everything necessary in the world to make sure that that expression will remain on her features.
And then, all of a sudden, he finds himself having trouble getting air and it takes a moment or two but he realises it’s because she’s kissing him. But it’s not in any way like the last time they kissed, when all of him was focused on it and on the feelings it brought, but it’s more like a lifeline or something of the sort and he feels - thinks - that he’s probably the worst kisser the universe has ever encountered in that very moment. But at the same time it feels like his insides are twisting and turning and churning and burning, and he almost wants to reach inside of himself and pull it all out, but there is too much of it, too many things that seem to be wrong and seem to be moving and his mind is incapable of keeping up with anything.
Except that when Im Jinah loses consciousness, Oh Sehun’s arms are there to catch her.
His feet stand solid again, but his mind is still reeling and tumbling, a jumbled mess that makes no sense aside from the simple fact that he would give his life and that of everyone else in the universe to make sure that she is happy and safe. So he doesn’t even need to be able to think in order to pick her up in his arms and turn around. There’s probably plenty of people staring, or maybe nobody is and nobody even noticed, but he doesn’t even care about that in this particular moment in time. All that matters is her and getting her to a safe place.
Which, of course, there is only one of in the entirety of Mount Phoenix, and so Sehun carries her there step by step, all the way up the stairs until he reaches the right floor. He doesn’t let go of her even once, not even when he has to fumble around with his keys to be able to open up the door of his apartment. Not even when he drops them and ends up just kicking in the damn door, because nothing should get in his way in that very moment.
He doesn’t know how he makes it to the bed, he only knows that not for a single moment has her head collided with something it wasn’t supposed to hit, and he soon eases her down onto the mattress with careful consideration. His fingers work nimbly to untie her shoelaces so he can take of her shoes, followed by her jacket and sweater and...
He wakes up disoriented, sprawled over the wrong side of the bed and there’s something in his arms but he can’t seem to figure out what it is until he opens his eyes and is faced with the sight of his neighbour seemingly sleeping in his hold. For a moment he freezes in place, shocked, uncertain of what is going on, but then the events of before come back to him in full force. He starts, body jerking, and it damn near makes him shove Jinah out of the bed, but he stops himself right on time before that can happen and instead gathers her closer again.
He’s not entirely sure what happened, or when it happened, because it feels like a long time has passed. It takes him carefully retracting his arms from around his neighbour to be able to reach for his pants and pull out his phone. When the screen blinks on, he is faced with the fact that it’s a little before noon. Blinking as he takes in the reality of having slept over twelve hours, he slowly unfolds his limbs out of the bed until he can stand up on his feet.
The bathroom is his first stop, where a cold shower both refreshes him as wakes him up further. He recalls the events of the night before slowly, almost gingerly tiptoeing around the stuff with the lightning, finding himself somewhat afraid of touching upon the subject again lest it would fuck him up as much as it had the night before. But the rest of it is a jumbled mess that he’s not even sure he remembers properly.
Except one very solid and undeniable memory of his hands on Jinah’s face and his heart tumbling out over his tongue while they were standing in the middle of some street. He doesn’t understand what in the world could have driven him to do something as insane and uncareful as that, but then his mind tries to retrieve the memories of the lightning again and he shies away from it so quickly he knows.
It takes another twenty minutes for him to get dried and clothed again, after which he pretty much plunders his own kitchen so he can have a good, solid breakfast. A phone call into work gets him out of his classes for the next couple of days - something about not feeling well is enough to convince them to find a replacement - and then, surely, he reaches the point where he can no longer deny the lingering presence in his apartment.
He walks back into his bedroom like a frightened prey trying to figure out if the coast is clear again, but his gaze finds nothing different from when he had left the bedroom. Jinah is still lying in his bed as she was, still asleep. Through the thick fog in his head, he remembers she needs to rest up after using her ability, and only then - very belatedly, a testimony to the shape he’s in - realises that she healed him from the aftermath of the lightning bolts. An aftermath he is certain would have killed him if he’d not gotten medical attention.
So the question rises; will having healed him from that, kill her?
Suddenly restless, he feels the need to move and so he closes the door of his bedroom, thereby cutting off Jinah’s presence from the rest of his apartment. He spends a full thirty minutes pacing up and down his living room first, before he remembers kicking in his own door and then he’s already in the hallway with a screw driver and a half assed attempt at fixing the thing. His keys are still in the hallway where he dropped them, so he retrieves those as well, dropping them on the little table next to the coat hangers.
He doesn’t waste time doing nothing, afraid of where his mind or feet will lead him if he stops. But he also isn’t entirely sure what he’s supposed to do next and so eventually, after pacing up and down for another half an hour, he heads back into his bedroom. A quick check of Jinah’s vitals tells him she’s alive, but that’s about all it does. When he tries to get some water into her, the liquid trickles down into her mouth, but she never swallows, not even when he tries to make her to. Afraid of causing her to choke, he decides to give up the attempt and just trust in the fact that no one would be stupid enough to risk their life for his.
But then he knows that Jinah would.
Time jumbles and tumbles, Sehun trying to keep himself occupied, to not go insane with the thought of how his neighbour might die for having saved his life. He considers using her phone to call on the Greek god of the Underworld, but the mere thought of Hades makes him relive the past night again and it ends in nothing but shudders and an intense dislike of the thought of reaching out to any Greek god ever again. Even though he knows he will have to because he owes them, but those are worries for another time. A time when the woman in his bed does not occupy four fifths of his entire being.
The hours go by slowly, and Sehun finds himself at a loss of what to do, so he starts doing all kinds of things. Until at one point he picks up his carving knives and the small block of wood he’d started to work on, and suddenly the room is dark and he needs to turn on a light to still be able to see properly. But he doesn’t. Instead he gets up from the chair, casts a glance over at Jinah and then heads to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. Quickly wiping up most of the carved off wood from the floor, he discards it in the bin next to his desk before he heads back to the bedroom.
When he wakes this time around, it’s to the early morning light and the renewed feeling of holding something in his arms - someone. He presses his nose into her hair and keeps his eyes closed for a little while longer, just breathing in the scent of her, that’s slowly starting to mingle with his already. She’s moved a little, he belatedly notices, but only as much as would have been necessary for him to take hold of her. He tries to tell himself he did no such thing and that she rolled into his arms on her own accord. It’s a hard thing to believe when she’s lying there like she was carved from marble rather than flesh and blood.
Alive, he tells himself. She’s very much alive. She’s not dead and not gone and not lost to the world. When he finally dares open his eyes, there’s more colour in her cheeks than before and she at least looks a lot more like she might wake up again soon. He holds on to that thought as he slowly untangles himself from her and moves back to the chair to continue his carving. Bit by bit, etch by etch, he slowly creates a shape out of the wood, working at it until his fingers are numb and longer than that.
It’s just past noon when he finishes, brushing off the last remaining bits of dust before his eyes almost automatically raise themselves to take in the shape on the bed. How often his eyes have wandered to her since he started working on the pendant, he doesn’t know, but it’s safe to say he wouldn’t have been able to keep count anyway. Too often, is probably the best way to count, and he sighs at himself, then snorts because what even is he doing judging himself for things that he clearly has no control over anymore.
He’s just worried, is the excuse he gives himself, which only makes him grin wider and feel stupid at the same time, because since when are you worried about other people?
He doesn’t deign that thought worthy of a response, and instead gets up from the chair to stretch his limbs. A quick trip to the kitchen renders him bread and water for lunch, which he has in the door opening of his bedroom. Next he’s cleaning up the shaved off wood again, gathering every last piece of it to be able to discard it in the bucket he keeps for the burnable wood. It takes him another hour and a half to put a hole in the back so he can pull a thread through the pendant to turn it into a proper necklace.
When it’s entirely done, he gives it a last proper check, then heads back to the bedroom again. Jinah still hasn’t moved, and for some reason it causes an ache to form in his chest. His fingers clench into fists, but unclench quickly when the tips of the pendant dig into his skin. Unwilling to accidentally break it, he slowly makes his way back over to the bed. And as he gets closer, the urge to crawl back in grows, until he just gives in to it. Because why the hell not? He just nearly died from being struck by a god’s lightning bolt and the woman he loves could possibly be dying in his stead for healing him - he’s still not entirely sure she’s going to come back out of it, after all.
So he slides back under the blankets and rewraps his arms around his neighbour’s shape. With slow but deliberate movements, he gently opens her hand so he can place the pendant in it, then close her fingers around it again softly. Once that’s done, he gathers her shape back in his arms, pulling her into his chest and curling himself around her almost protectively so. His mind helpfully decides to offer the suggestion at that point that perhaps the ‘almost’ does not belong in that sentence at all.
He doesn’t try to tell himself why it does, and instead just rests his forehead against the back of Jinah’s head, closing his eyes and forcing his muscles to relax. It’s a long and tedious process to get every single one of his limbs to be at ease as he lies there, and he ends up falling asleep again before he even manages to. But there is not a single part of him that moves away from the hold he has on the woman in his arms.
Hyuna usually either finds it annoying or endearing when customers have difficulty eating the muffins without the filling going everywhere - right now, definitely the latter. She grins as she continues setting all the chairs down and wiping all the tables.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive that damn elevator. But hey, it got you a free muffin, didn’t it?” She laughs, finishing up her cleaning. Shortly before she can toss the rag into its bucket in the back, Sehun asks her if she likes her job and she pauses. Being a barista/waitress isn’t what Hyuna’s dream job would’ve been, no. But at this point she doesn’t remember what her dream job even was when she was younger. Perhaps… no, definitely at one point she had a dream. She had goals and ambitions and wanted to achieve those. Whatever it was that had motivated her (her mom, probably) was gone now. The question hits a little too close to home, but…
She bites her lip and puts the rag away, then comes back out with a smile. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean sure, sometimes people are dickheads, but I like being around people all day.” No one else is here yet, so Hyuna sits down on the chair across from Sehun. “It’s not… ideal, I guess, but it’s enough.” She shrugs. He doesn’t have to know about her second job.
But Hyuna would like to get at least one thing off her chest, at least reveal one secret that she’s been keeping locked up. “Besides… ‘high school dropout’ doesn’t look good on a resumé. Nor will it get you into any university. Which means that, well, this is all I got.”
The bell above the door chimes and Hyuna quickly gets up and behind the counter to take her new customer’s order. It’s a take-out coffee and once the customer is gone, she sighs and looks back at Sehun. “What do you do?”
Sehun hums at Hyuna’s reply, not really certain he understands her way of thinking, but not invested enough in her nor the conversation to try and figure out more. After all, what she does with her life is her problem and he is hardly going to preach for following your dreams or something other of the sort. The only thing he feels like commenting on are her last words, but the sound of the bell chiming stops him short and instead of voicing out his thoughts, he merely gets back to his coffee and muffin.
By the time the customer is gone with their take-out coffee, Sehun’s muffin is gone too, and he’s taking leisure sips from the hot beverage. The question sent his way makes him glance up shortly - wondering why she’s asking about what he does when she can clearly see he’s drinking coffee - until he realises she’s trying to continue their earlier conversation and he shrugs lightly.
“I teach self defence classes at the Zero to Hero,” he tells her, almost nonchalantly so, as if merely saying the name of the place doesn’t remind him most acutely of his mother and all the reasons he wishes he wasn’t working there. Still, none of that shows on his face, which remains in the same neutral expression he sported before.
“I’m considering quitting, though, I don’t think I can go another full month trying to teach stupid people a way to keep themselves from being robbed when they are clearly still going to be robbed anyway. I don’t think half of the people I teach even have the guts to actually throw a punch.” He huffs out a judgemental grin, then shakes his head lightly before downing the remainder of his coffee in one bigger gulp.
When he puts the mug back down on the platter, he calmly gets up to bring the entire thing back to the counter for her to clear away. “So how much was it?”
Jinah noticed how Sehun began to tense up. How he started on creating that unnecessary distance between them again. Wondering what on earth had happened, what had set him off, to react in such a rejecting way she thought there was probably nothing else she could do but to give him time. Time and space. Thus when he moved and let go of her, she returned the favor.
Feeling quite empty now with him gone and that distance between them back into place she looked up at him. Expression kinda lost and holding a hint of the question she had been meaning to ask. But, of course, she refused to pose it since it would not benefit their current situation. It probably would make Sehun create even more distance between them.
“Some,” clearing her throat because her voice sounded unstable she repeated, “Some water would be nice? Not sparkling please.” Blinking at him for a moment as he so ostentatiously went to his kitchen, Jinah then looked around. Suddenly feeling out of place at his apartment she tried to shake the feeling by heading toward his couch and taking a seat in it. Comforting herself by saying that Sehun could change his mind again and that all she had to do was give him time and space, she waited for the demigod to return with her glass of water.
He returns from the kitchen a little later with a glass of water for her, nothing for himself. After giving the glass to her, he just stands there looking at her for a long, probably rather awkward moment, until he sighs and turns his gaze away.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” he says then, and some of the tension seeps out of his shoulders, but it settles in his voice instead - and in the way he’s looking at everything but her intently.. “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”
His gaze rests on his window for a moment, then wanders off to the couch. He finds himself at a loss of what to do next, how to behave around her now. Then he clenches his teeth together again, temporarily grinding them over each other before it’s too much.
“I think I should go.” Not you should go, not him trying to get her out of his apartment, but just him not knowing what to do with the situation. He frowns, then runs fingers through his hair, clearly no longer at ease.
“I-” He decides not to finish that sentence and instead just shrugs once, with his gaze temporarily locking with hers again. “Good night, Jinah.”
Two strides take him to the balcony and once the door is opened wide enough, he’s already shifted shapes, doing what he does best: walking out of an uncomfortable situation.
An envelope closed by his signature lightning bolt symbol and pushed underneath the door of the demigod’s apartment. Inside a parchment with neatly written words: Sehun, I accept your apology. I want to give you one in return. My behavior was uncalled for, so I do apologise for causing you harm. I hope you’ll live your life to the fullest and feel grateful for it each single day. Enjoy it. Love it. Cherish it. Especially the people in it. Zeus.
When Sehun picks up the envelope, he’s not entirely sure what he’ll find inside. The lightning bolt tells him who it’s from, which does nothing to settle the sick feeling inside of him. But he still opens the letter, because that’s the least he can do. He owes it to the god.
As his eyes scan the paper, the words speak to him in quiet conscencus with how he himself felt about the situation as well, and Sehun finds himself satisfied to have been given an apology in return. Because he still does not believe he deserved that sudden lightning-whooping out of nowhere. After all, in that very moment, he’d done absolutely nothing to set the god off.
So perhaps he is keeping the letter if only to be able to smugly point at it sometimes in the company of no one but himself and reaffirm the fact that a god had given him an apology. Or perhaps he’ll never look at it again, but just have it because it reminds him of something important. It does not matter what he does with it in the future, though, what matters is that he does not throw it away.
When his limbs finally relinquish control over them back to him, Sehun knows to move slowly, and so he does. Crawling up from the asphalt of the street, the demigod automatically looks at the only other person left in the alleyway with him; the Greek god of the Underworld. Hades.
They’ve met before, of course, Sehun does not forget the face of the man who appeared out of nowhere in the Celtic elevators to save Jinah from him. He also does not forget the face of the man who spends plenty of time with his neighbour, occasionally for the sole reason of bugging him it seems. But now, Sehun is looking at a different man. A man he owes his life to. A god he owes his life to. In fact, he owes his life to two of them.
Hades disappears seemingly into nothingness mere moments later, not giving Sehun the chance to even say anything at all. But perhaps it is better that way. Sehun doesn’t know what he would have said if they were forced to have a conversation. He knows if the god had not stepped in, Zeus would have killed him. Not straight away, of course, he’d have had to live through quite a bit of torture of a kind he’d already been able to feel a little with that lightning bolt pressed to his neck. He also knows that Zeus still could have killed him even with Hades’ intereference, but the god of Lightning hadn’t. Decisions had been made on both sides and all of those decisions had led to him still being alive at this very moment in time.
And he’s not so big of an idiot that he does not know the sacrifices that clearly have been made to save his life. None of them made for him personally, of course, neither of the two Greeks feels anything remotely friendly towards him. But one god’s love for a friend and the other god’s love for a brother have saved his life. And somehow he can’t shake the absolutely caging feeling that he should somehow live up to it. That he should somehow become better, to become worthy of the things that have been given up for him.
But there’s only one thing he can really think of, when his eyes take in the empty street, when he looks down at his own body that is aching and hurting. He wouldn’t be surprised if there is some seriously messed up shit wrong inside of him at this very moment, but he doesn’t have the time to worry about it. He’s not thinking straight, or maybe he’s thinking more clearly than ever. Or maybe the lightning messed up his brain and he’s become a lunatic, ready for the crazy people’s house. Maybe he’s supposed to be locked behind bars and kept away from anyone else for their own safety. Maybe...
His thoughts run on like a wheel turning, churning, but his body is doing something different. He shifts automatically, spreading wings regardless of the pain it causes, and flying up and out of the street. All he knows is that he needs to get away from that horribly confining feeling of not being good enough for the things that have been done for him. All he knows is that he needs to become worthy and that he needs to figure out how to repay the debt he owes. Somehow. If only in a minor way. He does not wish to be tied to those gods like a dog on a leash. He does not wish to be tied to anyone.
Anyone but one.
When he lands, he doesn’t even know how he got there anymore. He doesn’t remember the flight it took to take him there, or which part of his mind managed to think up where he was supposed to find her. But she’s there, in front of him as he shifts back to human form so his feet can land gently on the ground. She’s walking down a random street, probably on her way home from work. Or maybe on her way to the store, or the post office, or maybe even on her way to work. He doesn’t really know. He doesn’t know anything. There is something not right with his head like a bomb has exploded right next to his ear. Disorientation, his mind calls it, and he accepts the word because he doesn’t know a better one anyway. Not right now.
But he does know her, and her face is right in front of him, so he takes hold of it with both hands. It’s rougher than he planned it to be, and he utters apologies in whispered words, several at a time. Or maybe he’s just whispering sounds that make no sense, he doesn’t really know. He doesn’t think he can comprehend even himself anymore. He doesn’t know if it’s still the aftereffect of the lightning crackling through him at insane volts or if he’s permanently damaged now. He should be dead, really, nobody survives things like that. He should be dead and done for and he owes his life to two gods and the fact that the woman in front of him loves him.
He holds her face in his hands and looks at her so intently, tries to imprint every inch of her into his mind. He does not care about the people around them, those eyes watching the man who came falling out of the sky as a bird and shifted before he hit the ground. He does not care about the world outside of his hands on her face and his gaze locked with hers, and he wishes he could stay like that forever because it’s the only thing that makes sense in the world anymore. And he doesn’t decide anything but somehow still a decision is made.
Gaze going from her one eye to the other, there is nothing but a wild animal pacing on the edge of insanity in his eyes. Like a soul lost to the thoughts of normality, teetering on the edge of the wild infinite. But his hold on her is not hurtful, his voice is not loud. There is nothing in his behaviour towards her that comes off as threatening in any way. Despite the fact that his body is still on fire, that he feels like he might still be dying after all. Despite the fact that he’s certain he is no longer supposed to be alive, that he is cheating fate by even standing there. But he will take the chance he’s given with both hands, he will fight to keep it if need be, because there is something he needs to do, something he needs to accomplish.
“I love you, Jinah. I love you and I don’t want to die without you knowing that I do. I don’t want to leave you with not knowing, because you should know that you are loved, that you are cherished, that there is someone in the world who thinks you’re the most incredible person they’ve ever come across. That you’ve made a difference. That you’ve been someone’s saving grace in more ways than you can imagine. I love you and I am sorry if I am not capable of showing you or telling you in better ways, that I am not capable of being a better person for you, for anyone.”
The words are not spoken in self-pity, but merely speaking of facts. There is a brief moment in which he wonders if he’s still standing upright out of pure force of will alone, because there is no way a body can survive so much strain being put on it, but he knows he needs to stay on his feet because otherwise Jinah will worry, and she will worry already, she always does. That’s who she is, that’s why he loves her, for who she is. For what she is to him, an anchor in a storm of a world that he’s not sure is on his side or against him.
Everything. That’s what she really is.
He breaks into a smile then, wide and bright and filled with warmth and love and nothing, so very nothing like himself that it might be almost scary, but he wouldn’t know because he can’t see himself, he can’t hardly think. He’s talking without using his mind and he doesn’t even know what the consequences might be. Maybe he’ll drop dead any minute now from overstraining his body, he really has no clue. But he needs to stay on his feet just a little longer to be able to speak the most important words and so he does.
(...) Fingers travelling up Sehun’s spine they tangled themselves into the hair at the back of neck and head, soon fondling it. The gestures being filled with devotion Jinah completely felt at ease with Sehun. Radiating it, together with her love for the male in front of her -who held her heart in his rough and weathered hands- she simply looked at him for a moment longer. Soaking in the knowledge that he cared for, perhaps even loved, her she gently turned her head to press a gentle kiss in Sehun’s palm. Eyes closing momentarily she exhaled a content sigh as she put her cheek back into his warm hand. “I love you,” she exhaled the words, them coming to her so naturally she doesn’t fully realise she had spoken them.
Sehun’s eyes remain on Jinah’s face, taking in every single bit of it, every detail and every part. Until eventually he’s got it committed to memory so well that he’s certain he could think her up entirely without having seen her for days. Not that he plans to not see her for days, but it’s like a precaution, made just in case life decides to throw him a curveball again that ends up having him needing to leave the island again or something of the sort. He wouldn’t put it past his own luck to ruin whatever perfectly good moment he’s got going on here.
Suddenly Jinah’s head moves, shifting to face the palm of his hand which apparently still rests on her cheek and he follows every single movement like a hawk. The imprint of her lips touching his skin sends tingles along his arm, all the way to a shiver running down his back. But it’s not a bad sensation, more like a good type of shiver and in the next second he smiles. Suddenly there is a warmth radiating from his features, a gentle softness that he is certain has never been there before. Summoned only because of her actions, visible only to her.
And then it’s gone.
The words she speaks eradicate every hint of the emotion from his features, expression freezing over instead, along with the rest of his body. The tension seeps back into his shoulders first, then spreads out to the rest of his muscles, until eventually he stands rooted to the ground like a deer in headlights. It’s a testimony to how incredibly much he cares about her that he’s still standing there at all, really, considering his intial instinct had been to get the hell out. It was only the thought that doing so would cause her immense hurt that has kept him standing still.
But the repercussions of that decision means that he is locked in place now, looking at her with a look in his eyes like that of a wild animal suddenly finding itself caged. Not because he doesn’t want her to feel for him that way, but because he doesn’t know - doesn’t have a single damn clue - what he has to do with the information. Doesn’t know how it will change things between them, what it means exactly. Doesn’t know if saying those words means she expects something from him or not, means she wants them to be said in return.
Despite everything he has already been forced to admit to himself so far when it comes to his neighbour, that is something he knows he is incapable of as of yet. Speaking aloud the feelings inside of him like he has any clue what the words would even mean feels like the most ridiculous thing he could ever do in his life and he is not in any way shape or form ready for it.
Still, with all that inside of his head, with all the sudden tension in his body and the gnawing fear that is tightening around his chest, with all those instincts inside of him still yelling at him to run; his hand never leaves her cheek. His touch doesn’t get any less gentle, his fingers don’t tighten their grip, his hand doesn’t even move an inch. And after an agonisingly long moment, he gets himself to move his thumb, brushing a tender movement alongside her cheek. Only after having fulfilled that motion, does he finally allow his hand to drop away from her, and does he allow himself to turn away, because staying in his position would serve nothing but make things worse.
It takes a clenching of his teeth and a balling of his fists after the turn before he can get himself to form words as he sets quite ostentatiously for his kitchen.
(...) She occasionally glances in Sehun’s direction as she works. Now that the shock from the elevator has worn off, there’s the question of what they could talk about next. He doesn’t seem like the most… social type, which makes it a little more difficult to come up with a topic.
But hey, that could be a topic. “You’ve never been here before, right? At least, I don’t remember seeing you in here.” Hyuna moves from the counter to the tables, wiping them down routinely.
Sehun snorts lightly when Hyuna tells him she needs to do some cleaning and that she hopes he won’t mind. He must look like a complete and total asshole for people to continuously keep asking him things like that, wondering whether or not he will approve of them doing their job. He’s not an idiot, he knows that there are things other people have to do whether they like it or not, and he is the last person to make their lives hard over it.
People who do shitty things out of there own free will, on the other hand...
But Hyuna doesn’t seem to be that type of person, and so he merely gives a shake of his head as he finishes taking down the chairs of the tables around the one he picked out. Taking a seat next, he calmly waits for his order to come around, glancing at the muffin and deciding that it at least looks like it might be a nice treat at first glance. He lets out an amused hum at Hyuna’s words and gives a nod of his head.
“Alright thanks.” And with that, the conversation ends for all he cares, as he takes a sip of his coffee first and then gingerly starts on trying to eat the muffin without getting any of the filling all over his face. He’s in the middle of a rather successful attempt - if he says so himself - when the Celtic demigoddess speaks up again.
His gaze lifts up from his breakfast to take her in shortly, then he shakes his head lightly. “I’m not really a pastries type of guy, usually,” he clarifies him never having been to her place of work before. “But when one is offered to me free of charge after an encounter with an elevator from hell, who am I to say no?”
Which, honestly, should be more than enough casual conversation from him by now. But either the elevator from hell has properly shaken him up or his interactions with Jinah have actually taught him something, because he feels the urge to direct a question back at her, or at least give her another line of conversation to work with.
“You like this job? Cleaning tables, making other people’s coffee... Sounds like a bore, honestly.”
(...) Throwing it at the tall demigod it crackled dangerously while it went for its target. Yet as by a miracle the demigod was actually capable of evading that one too.Furious Zeus threw another lightning bolt, this time quicker than the one before and finally he was able to hit his target. Watching in satisfaction how the lightning crackled over the male’s body, it making his muscles tense and relax beyond his control eventually the male slumped down to the ground, unable to move.
The sight of the helpless being eliciting a scoff from the god he closed the distance between them. “Now. Little boy. We’re going to have some fun.”
Sehun is prepared for a lot of things at any given moment in time. He is a warrior, after all, ready for battle no matter what the situation. And on top of that, he is used to waging war on the world, has done so for nearly twenty years. Still, a part of him startles when all of a sudden the god pulls a freaking thunderbolt out of thin air and aims it at him with a clear and undeniable hatred in his eyes.
His body moves before his mind has fully comprehended the entire situation, evading the lightning bolt thrown at him with practised precision by jumping aside. He rolls over his left shoulder, then gets back up into a crouched position, poised and ready to move again. He has no way to defend himself, not against a god throwing lightning bolts around like fucking confetti, because his raven form in this case is merely even more useless against it.
A lightning bolt that would only harm a human, could kill a bird, after all. And he’s not in the business of dying - never was. Still, the pure and undiluted hatred that shines out of those eyes is lethal, Sehun has seen enough men seeking revenge to know. Only in all the other cases he was the stronger one of the two. In this case, he very much is not.
Still, a part of his mind sneers when the god speaks up, once again giving him warning before launching the next lightning bolt. Perhaps the Greek god of lightning is stupid - that wouldn’t surprise him very much, admittedly. Once again he leaps out of the way of the bolt, this time pushing himself up with his hands to be standing once more. Only before he can fully focus his attention back on the scene, a new lightning bolt is thrown, and although he tries to evade it as well, it takes only a sliver of it to catch him before the entirety of the electrical charge rushes through him in full intensity.
In an instant, it’s like he’s someone else. His mind is sane, survival instincts kicking in as his eyes stretch wide and his body succumbs to the effects of the electrical charge, muscles clenching and unclenching at random, every part of his body shutting down, whereas his mind shoots into overdrive. It’s like the pain he experiences is not his, but he’s merely looking at it from a distance, observing the conflict as if he has nothing to do with it.
And in that long, acutely clear moment, he realises that he is going to die.
There is no way he can win this battle, after all, no way he can win over the god standing a few feet away, intent on tearing him apart piece by piece if the expression on the man’s face is any indication. He’s going to die and for the very first time in his life the thought doesn’t make him angry, it makes him sad. Because he’s not willing to die. Not now. Not when there is something going on between Jinah and him. Something he’s not quite sure yet what it is, but something he definitely wants to explore further.
In the next moment he’s trying to think of ways to get out of this situation, but can see none. For the intense desire to hurt and kill is too clear in the way the god had been looking at him, and he does not need to be extremely attentive to have heard the rage in the god’s voice, either.
And to think that all he’d done to garner this response, was attempt to smile.
“Right, I hadn’t even considered that wings can get tired too.” Hyuna laughs. “I guess birds just make it look effortless.” As an afterthought she adds, “Don’t tire yourself out just because it looks cool, yeah?”
They finally manage to reach the bottom of the stairs (had there always been this many?) and as they’re walking across the entrance hall, Hyuna gives a satisfied nod when Sehun agrees to come with her. Most of her friends are from other pantheons and she’s glad to have a friend who’s also a neighbor. A good contact in case of an emergency, or in case she’s just bored and wants to hang out.
“Sure, I don’t mind.” She smiles at him as they walk outside, then zips up her coat. “It’s not too far away from here.” And Hyuna begins to lead him into the direction of the Flower Mill. The air is still a little cold, but not as bad as it had been the days before, which she is quite grateful for. It’s hard to maintain her reputation if she’s forced to wear clothes for practicality.
True to her word, they reach the Flower Mill rather quickly, and she slides off her coat the second they step inside. “I gotta put my stuff away, but I’ll be back in a minute or so.” She gestures towards the (frankly, giant) menu on the wall above the counter, filled with “normal” drinks and snacks as well as seasonal specials. “I can get you a free muffin, but I don’t think I can get you a free drink… or I can get you a free drink but not a free muffin, so take your time to choose and all that.” Another friendly grin and she disappears into the back room to put away her stuff and adjust her make-up before popping up behind the counter two minutes later.
Sehun’s more than happy to follow the fellow Celtic demigoddess along through the streets of Mount Phoenix, headed for whatever place it is she works at. When they reach the place, he vaguely recognises the name, although he’s never actually been there. He wonders for a moment whether he should step inside places like this more often, then figures he’ll let the quality of the muffin she offered him decide that for him.
Following her inside, he gives her a nod of his head when she says she needs to put her stuff away, then allows his gaze to wander over the surroundings. It’s not long before he’s letting his eyes skim over the available drinks and snacks, taking in all the options he has to choose from and wondering what he’ll be treating himself with that morning. For a moment he considers buying his neighbour something as well, then quickly discards that ridiculous notion.
His attention only returns to Hyuna when she speaks up again and he hums once in understanding, before continuing his inspection. By the time the demigoddess makes it back - now in the appropriate outfit for work with the paint on her face women seem to love so much - he’s made up his mind and so he easily turns his attention back to her as she appears.
“I’ll be getting a black coffee and one of those pumpkin and cream cheese muffins,” he tells her easily, a relaxed smile on his features as he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. “You decide which one of those is free, but for your business’ sake I suggest you take the cheapest one.” He’s not greedy, after all, and he doesn’t mind paying this once for the outrageously priced seasonal muffin. Business is business, he gets that as well as the next person.
“I’ll have it here,” he decides to add, sneaking a look at the few tables displayed with the chairs still put up - probably from cleaning the night before. “I’ll be so kind as to take my own chair down as well as a few others while you’re busy with my order.” Amusement filling his voice as he says that, the Celtic demigod calmly walks over to the nearest table, temporarily tucking his wallet away again so he can start with taking down all the chairs.
At first it’s endearing how Sehun pretends there’s nothing going on, then it’s a little irritating. Hyuna can understand if someone doesn’t want to talk about their crush with her, that’s absolutely fine, no matter how much she enjoys teasing people about things like this.
What she draws the line at is when someone decides to insult her – specifically if that insult has something to do with the way she dresses or her line of work. “There’s no need to get all cranky, sweetheart,” she says, though sweetheart sounds less and less like an endearment at this point. “If you’re hung up on this girl, fine, but don’t take it out on me.”
Hyuna rolls her eyes and sets down the glasses of wine she’d been holding. “Am I asking for your money? I’m not talking to you because I want you, I’m talking to you because you weren’t an asshole last time.” After the elevator incident, Hyuna had actually looked forward to chatting with Sehun again. He’d seemed nice enough at the time, perhaps a little closed-off but that didn’t bother her.
“But if my presence bothers you this much, sweetheart, I’ll do the honors of leaving first.” She looks him up and down, then gestures in the general direction of where he’d been staring earlier. “One last word of advice: fix your manners before you talk to her. If this is how you speak to women, you have a lot to learn.” And so she leaves to continue her job of entertaining. It’s a shame, Hyuna thinks, that Sehun had to go that far. Perhaps she’ll talk to him again some other time, should they meet again in the hallway.
She had hoped to find a friend in the Celtic pantheon, and she didn’t intend to give up on that potential friendship just yet. But for tonight she had other things to worry about.
Mino was a bit surprised to hear Sehun’s blunt statement about gods. Now he wasn’t one to consider the gods as better as them since he thought of them all to be equal. Except when it came to his mother. He had to utmost respect for her and went weekly to her shrine to talk and pray to her. So it was strange to hear how the demigod in front of him didn’t respect their godly parent. Since to Mino it was only normal that one respected their parents.
“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod at the explanation Sehun gave for his reason of being here. Seeing nothing wrong with it, a grin soon formed at the guy’s question. Shaking his head to indicate that that indeed wasn’t his reason of being here he easily stated with a certain pride in his tone, “I’m a son of the Chinese goddess of the earth, Hu Tu.” His eyes momentarily becoming warmer as he thought of his mother, soon amusement trickled in them again. “I got it from my Māmā.” Using the Chinese word and pronunciation for mama, he sent the other playful wink.
“Never knew my dad.” Mino continued, feeling comfortable enough to share this personal information with the other. “My mom raised me in a cave in Vietnam. The people hadn’t discovered it yet, so it was a wonderful place just for the both of us. But soon I left the nest and began to explore to world on my own. This place too is just a temporary stop for me. But I never fail in praying to my mom once a week.” It wasn’t as if Mino didn’t easily share personal details about his life with other people, the demigod was a rather open individual after all, but his words seemed to flow a little bit easier than usual while he was around Sehun. “But now I’m done with the praying part and all the more ready to join in on the fun.” A pause, a thought and then the added, “If you need another hand, of course.”
Listening to the way Mino so proudly declares his heritage, Sehun finds himself wondering for a moment how anyone can be so open and loving about another person, especially their mother. But for a change he doesn’t think less of Mino for doing so, but merely just accepts it as just another part of the male. He keeps the ridiculing comments to himself, and instead just gives a bit of a non-commital hum and nods his head in understanding.
But when Mino continues on about a cave in Vietnam, Sehun can’t help himself as the chuckle bubbles out of his chest. “Caveman, huh?” He comments, unable to stop the grin from spreading over his features, playful amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m sure your mom appreciates you bugging her every single week just to ask for her blessing.” The grin spreads a little wider at the thought of Sehun even attempting to be that filial to his mother. She’d probably try to disown him of his title of being her child for growing so soft.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way, honestly.
He returns back to the present when Mino mentions fun, and is instantly at ease again. “Well, I’m good with these two hands, but you’re free to join in on the fun. Always more fun when there’s multiple people to make it happen, I’ll admit.” Allowing his gaze to wander over their surroundings, Sehun shrugs lightly as he gives a nod at the mostly empty plain. “Well, there isn’t much fun to be found here, I’ll admit. You’ve got any ideas?”
It’s been a long day, and Sehun is more than happy to be able to leave the Zero to Hero behind him and set on his way home. Despite the heavy day and the copious amounts of nagging people, there is still a certain lightness to his step, a willingness in the way he sets himself on the path home that only holds a single and very simple explanation.
One that he will never speak aloud, lest someone else figure it out.
But inside of his mind, that one particular explanation holds a great significance, having become the basis for plenty of things he does in his life right now that he didn’t used to before. Like the lightness in his step when he’s headed home, but also the way he occasionally stops when there’s a pretty plant or flower to be seen. As well as the occasional moments he’ll spend looking up at the sky, wondering what a certain someone might be doing in that moment.
It’s after another one of those glances upwards that he focuses back on the road only to see a rather familiar face up ahead. Now Zeus and Sehun haven’t really had the best contact with each other per se, but the demigod wouldn’t consider the king of the Greeks an enemy of sorts. Then again, one can never be too careful with gods. Which is why, upon spotting the god headed in the opposite direction, Sehun decides to be extra nice for a change.
Which, in his case, basically means that he plasters the friendliest expression he can muster onto his face and gives a nod of his head when their gazes cross, just to calmly look away to the road again right after so he doesn’t have to pretend like he wants to have any smalltalk, but doesn’t come across as all too rude either.
(...) His soft kiss, although highly unexpected, was more than welcome and once again felt so right. Instantly losing herself in it -in him- she let go of her zipper, took hold of the sides of his jacket and pulled him close while at the same time she took the tiny step that was necessary to close to distance between them. Kissing him softly, but most of all lovingly back, her hands let go of the leather as soon as their bodies were touching. Instead she wrapped her arms around the demigod. Preventing him from going away from her again. Since there was so much she wished to tell to him in this moment, in this kiss, that he shouldn’t be going anywhere soon.
The contact between their fingers is broken when Jinah reaches for her jacket, but it doesn’t matter too much to him, because soon a new contact is made, and mere moments later her hands are taking hold of his jacket and pulling him in. He moves along willingly, doesn’t mind either when she steps closer as well, molding their bodies together. His hands move on their own accord then, taking hold of her as well, perhaps with a little more strength than he intends them to, but he is careful not to hurt her.
Little by little he inches them closer together, until there is not a hair’s breadth between the both of them. The warmth of her body seeping into his through the thin layers of fabric that are the only things between them. The almost distracting pulse of her heartbeat vibrating all the way to his very core, it seems, tempting and teasing his own heart to follow the rhythm and beat in time with hers. And once it does, it’s like a hymn to the closeness between their bodies, to the connection they’re allowing themselves to have, with no disturbances to come in between. Not in his home.
When he pulls away it is to allow her a moment to breathe, as well as to urge himself to come down from whatever high he’s lost himself in. But the distance he creates between them is minimal, his forehead coming to a gentle rest against hers before he eventually sighs softly and leans in a bit to nudge her nose with his ever so softly. The next moment he’s kissing her again, as if that tiny little motion of pure affection has never happened at all, but the echo of the touch lingers on his skin as much as it does on hers, he’s sure.
There is nothing of his usual harshness left in his touches and the way his fingers brush past the side of her face to gently cup her cheek. No tough exterior to keep her at a distance, only softness in the way his lips press against hers, communicating the emotions that linger beneath the surface but never quite manage to make it out of his chest in any other way than this very moment.
When he eventually pulls away again, it is not because someone scared him, nor because of a sudden realisation of what he’s doing. It’s just so he can lean back slightly and look at her, his eyes wandering over her face in a mindless manner. He still doesn’t smile, as if that is an expression he doesn’t even hold inside of him, but the lines of his face have softened to a point where he looks as loving as he probably ever will.
And still he doesn’t say a single word, for sound would be but a disturbance of whatever it is that hangs in the air between them, seeping into their very bones.
Tedy ◦ Can I
Can I love you, would it be alright?
Can I try to just believe you'll never let me go?
Open Hands ◦ Ingrid Michaelson
Nobody wants to be the only one that's left standing
Nobody wants to be the only one to understand
David Hodges ◦ Recover
I'll give you one more chance to say we can change or part ways
And you take what you need, and you don't need me
1000 Times ◦ Sara Bareilles
You can make me wait forever, push me away and tell me never
I don't mind, no I don't mind it, I would come back a thousand times
Sleeping At Last ◦ Two
I just want to love you, to love you, to love you, and
I just want to learn how to somehow be loved myself
