SYNOPSIS ─── After a car accident that costed you 3 years worth of memory, you find yourself trying to start a new beginning in a new city with "new" people. Only God knows why would the universe make you cross paths with the cute guy nextdoor.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : neighbor AU, fluff, slight angst, smut (MDNI)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : yearner!jake, swearing, loss of memory, mention of a car accident, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (f. receiving), jake is an ass grabber, praising, creampie, mutual orgasm, switch!jake, loss of virginity, jake and reader's first time, fingering, riding, domestic scenes
𝐰𝐜 : 25.5k
❕# this is my goodbye gift !! Hope you’ll all like it :)
𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ──────
♯ 134340 - BTS
♯ Unconditional - JAEHYUN
♯ I.F.L.Y - Bazzi
♯ is it cool? - Steve Lacy ft. SZA
♯ pov - Ariana Grande
♯ XO (Only If You Say Yes) - ENHYPEN
♯ Get You - Daniel Caesar
♯ intro (end of the world) - Ariana Grande
♯ 3005 - Childish Gambino
♯ Tek It - Cafuné
♯ Roommates - Malcolm Todd
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉
You wouldn't have thought that the cardboard box in your arms would be heavier than it has any right to be, given it's mostly filled with towels and a lamp that probably won't survive the move. You shift it against your hip, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as Jungwon's voice crackles through the speaker.
"—and the landlord said the water pressure is good, but you should still check the boiler room, okay? Just in case. Mom keeps asking if you've eaten."
"I've eaten," you say, dumping the box onto the kitchen counter. The sound echoes in the empty space. "I ate a granola bar on the drive."
"That's not eating. You usually eat much more than that, Y/N."
You almost laugh. The corners of your mouth twitch, yet the energy to actually produce the sound feels too expensive. The new apartment is small, already making you hyperaware of your own breathing. White walls, beige carpet, a window that overlooks a fire escape and the back of a laundromat. It's nothing like your old place. And that's totally the point.
"There's a coffee shop down the street," you say instead, peering through the smudged glass of the window. "I saw it when I pulled in."
"Good, you should go there. Drink something with sugar and call me if you need anything."
"I will."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The line goes dead, and the silence in the apartment rushes back in to fill the space. You stand there for a minute, only breathing, letting your new life settle into your bones. New city with a new apartment, and no memories of the last three years to trip over on your way to the bathroom.
You grab your keys and head out. The neighborhood is weirdly quiet even in the afternoon, it feels like everyone is holding their breath. Old brick buildings line the street, their facades streaked with years of rain. A bodega on the corner, a laundromat, and there, wedged between a bookstore and a clothing shop, the coffee shop. It's decorated with mismatched chairs and a counter cluttered with jars of homemade pastries. You order a black coffee because you don't trust your brain to make decisions, and you take it to a table by the window. You're halfway through the cup, watching a pigeon peck at a discarded wrapper, when the sky opens up. The rain comes down in sheets, loud and violent, rattling against the glass like it's trying to get in. You watch it for a while, then check your phone. It's already 5 PM.
"Excuse me," you say, approaching the counter. The barista, a tired-looking woman with flour on her apron, looks up. "Do you have an umbrella I could borrow? I just moved in across the street, I'll bring it back."
She blinks at you before she disappears into the back, returning a moment later with a flimsy black umbrella. It looks like the one you buy at a bodega for five dollars and immediately regret. "Keep it," she says. "We have like twelve of these."
The rain hasn't let up by the time you step outside. You pop the umbrella open, holding it tight as the wind tries to wrestle it from your grip. The street is a river now, the buildings blurred through the curtain of water. You walk quickly, splashing through puddles, your sneakers already soaked.
The apartment building is a relief when it comes into view. You duck into the alcove of the entrance, shaking water from your hair, and fumble with the umbrella to close it. The mechanism catches on something, and you jerk it, frustrated, only to have it flip open in a violent snap. A spray of water arcs outward, catching the person passing behind you square in the chest.
You freeze.
He freezes.
For an agonizing long moment, neither of you dare to move. He's standing half in the rain, half out, his white t-shirt now clinging to his torso with a growing dark patch. His hair is damp at the ends, dark brown and curling slightly. His eyes ; wide and startled ; scan your face with intensity, making you want to quickly apologize, but the words get caught somewhere in your throat.
His expression falters for the briefest moment. The certainty in his eyes gives way to hesitation, his gaze tracing your features as though something refuses to add up. His head tilts slightly, thoughtful rather than confused. You brace yourself for annoyance. For the kind of clipped anger that would be entirely justified.
Rather than that, he blinks, and a smile touches the corner of his mouth. It's not quite a smile, more like the ghost of one, uncertain and clumsy. "Hi," he says. His voice is a little rough, maybe from the cold. "Sorry, I was—do I know you?"
You shake your head, clutching the umbrella tightly. "I don't think so. I just moved in. I'm sorry about your shirt."
He glances down at the wet patch before looking back up at you. "Don't worry about it. It's just water." He's still looking at you, though. Too fucking long. His gaze lingers, waiting for...something. Whatever it is never comes. With a shake of his head, he drags a hand through his wet hair before a tiny smile finds its way onto his face, warming the corners of his eyes. "I'm Jake. I live in 9C down the hall."
"Y/N," you say. "5C."
"Welcome to the building."
"Thanks."
The rain continues to fall, filling the space between you with noise. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and you realize you're both just standing there, awkward and dripping, with nothing else to say.
"Well," he says, "I should probably go change. Before I catch a cold."
"Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry again."
"Don't be."
He heads for the elevator, and you watch him go, his wet footprints staining the floor. He pauses with his hand on the button, and for only a second, you think he might turn back or might say something else. But then the door swings open, and he disappears inside.
You stand there for another minute, the broken umbrella dangling from your hand, the rain hammering against the awning above you. The feeling of his gaze on your face lingers, unsettled, like a half-remembered dream.
You close the apartment door behind you and lean against it. The key is still in your hand. The broken umbrella is still in the other. Your socks are soaked through because you forgot to wipe your feet.
None of that registers.
Because Jake ; apartment 9C, white t-shirt, gray hoodie, hole in his jeans ; had a face that shouldn't exist outside of Renaissance paintings and the occasional fever dream. Sharp jaw and messy hair that looked intentional even though it definitely wasn't. And his eyes, soft and curious, doing that slow scan of your features like he was reading something he couldn't put down.
You slide down the door until you're sitting on the floor.
This doesn't happen to you.
No—correction. This has never happened to you. You've read about it, sure. Pages in secondhand paperbacks where the protagonist trips and falls into a stranger's arms and he just happens to have cheekbones that could cut diamonds. You've rolled your eyes at those scenes and called them unrealistic. You told yourself that real life doesn't come with lighting cues and slow motion. However, standing on those steps with rain dripping off his chin and an animal shelter's worth of grime on his wrist, he had no business being that striking. That disarming. That stupidly attractive.
Your brain caught on the way he'd looked at you. Not like he was checking you out but more like he was searching for something. A flicker of recognition that didn't meant nothing if you recoil on it. And after that the shrug, and the introduction so smooth it had to be accidental.
Jake.
You press the heels of your palms against your eyes. Are you freaking kidding me ?
"You're being ridiculous." you tell the empty apartment.
Three hours later, you've unpacked exactly one box ; where it cointained your sheets and a single mug shaped like a cactus that Jungwon bought you as a joke three birthdays ago. The mug is now sitting on the kitchen counter, empty, staring at you judgmentally.
He keeps finding his way back into your thoughts. Not because you're trying to hold on to him, and surely not because you can't move on. It happens almost absentmindedly, the way your brain revisits familiar things when it's left alone. How his voice sounded slightly wrecked, like he'd been yelling or laughing or both. The smudge on his wrist ; potting soil, probably, if the canvas bag full of clinking jars was any indication. Pickles? Jam? The man had twelve jars of something and dirt on his hands and he lived four apartment next to yours.
You catch your reflection in the bathroom mirror and frown at yourself.
"Girl, you don't even know his last name." you say.
You go to bed early because there's nothing else to do. The new apartment sounds are unusual, there's more creaks and fewer sirens. At 2:17 AM, someone in the building starts playing the guitar badly. You fall asleep to a mangled rendition of "Wonderwall".
─────────
The alarm drags you from sleep sharply. You bat at your phone until the noise stops, and lie there, blinking at the still unfamiliar ceiling, reacquainting yourself with the fact that this is your life now. Everything was going to be new now.
By the time you've wrestled yourself into something presentable, you're already running five minutes behind. You skip breakfast, grab your bag, and lock the door behind you.
The elderly home sits at the end of a tree-lined street, a squat brick building, you almost mistook it for a community center. The receptionist gives you a visitor's badge and points you toward the common room, where a handful of residents are scattered across armchairs, some dozing, some staring at a muted television, one engaged in a heated argument with a plant.
You're barely through the door when a woman appears at your elbow, small and bright-eyed, with a name tag that reads Hanni in cheerful block letters. "New hire?" she asks, already steering you toward a supply closet. "Thank god. I've been doing double shifts for three weeks. I'm Hanni. You're Y/N. I read your file. It said you have experience with dementia patients. That's good, because Jacob over there—" she jerks her chin toward a man in a cardigan who's now trying to feed his coffee to the plant, "—thinks he's a squirrel."
You blink. "A squirrel?"
"Don't ask. Just go with it. If he offers you acorns, take them."
The day unfolds. You help Mrs. Han find her glasses (they were on her head), you listen to Mr. Eom's stories about a bakery he ran forty years ago, and you learn the exact difference between the "good" applesauce and the "bad" applesauce. Hanni works beside you with effortless competence, cracking jokes under her breath and seamlessly redirecting residents who wander toward the exit. "You're pretty good at this," she says during a break, as you both stand at the nurses' station, scribbling notes. "Most new people get that deer-in-headlights look for at least a week. You just sort of absorbed it."
You shrug, not sure how to explain that this ; the slow pace, the gentle repetition, the small dignities of helping someone remember their own name ; it feels like the only thing you're certain about these days. "It's not that hard. They just want to be seen."
Hanni studies you for a moment, something curious flickering behind her eyes. Then she nods, and the moment passes.
Your shift ends, your feet ache and your brain feels pleasantly fuzzy, which doesn't leave room for anxiety. You change out of your scrubs, say goodbye to Hanni, and step out into the evening air.
The street is calm, the rain from yesterday reduced to a thin dampness on the pavement. You're walking toward your building, hands shoved in your jacket pockets, when you round the corner and nearly collide with someone coming the other way.
Fuck, it's him.
Jake.
He's wearing a different shirt ; navy this time, sleeves pushed up to his elbows ; and he's carrying a cardboard pack of beer tucked under one arm. His hair is dry, pulled up in a little ponytail at the back, and the sight of him in the golden light of early evening hits you like a delayed punch.
"Oh," you say. Why now?
He stops. For a heartbeat, something unsettles his expression, his eyes lingering on you a fraction too long. Then, it melts away, something softer taking place. "Hey. Y/N, right?"
"Oh, you remembered." The words come out flatter than you wanted them to be, yet your pulse is doing a ridiculous drum solo again.
"I remember a lot of things," he says, there's a strange weight to the phrase, like he's saying something else underneath it. He gestures with the beer. "You're heading back?"
"Yeah. I just finished my first day at the elderly home down the street."
"How was it?"
"Exhausting. Good, though. I think. One of the residents offered me a fake acorn, so I'm taking that as a sign of approval."
He laughs, low and surprised, you can see that he didn't expect to find it funny. "That's a pretty solid endorsement. I'd trust fake acorn guy over most people."
You fall into step together, and you notice how he adjusts his pace to match yours, shortening his stride just slightly. The street stretches ahead, lined with those old brick buildings, the sky above streaked with pale orange and lavender. You nod toward the beer. "Expecting company, or is that just for personal purpose?"
He glances down at the pack, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm having friends over tonight. A couple of guys from the shelter—I work at the animal shelter a few blocks over. We do this thing every other Thursday. It's mostly just eating takeout and arguing about which dog breed is objectively the best."
"Which one is?"
"Rescue," he says immediately. "All of them."
You snort. "I think so too."
"Right? This is why we're going to get along." He says it casually, the words land in your chest with an unexpected weight.
The building comes into view, its facade warm in the fading light. He holds the door open for you, and you step into the foyer, the familiar smell of old carpet and someone's cooking drifting through the hallway. At your door you fumble for your keys, and he lingers, shifting the beer from one arm to the other.
"Good first day," he says. "At the job, I mean."
"Thanks." You find the right key, fit it into the lock. "Have fun with your friends. Try not to let the argument escalate into a physical altercation."
"No promises. We're very passionate about this." He's already turning, already stepping back toward his door, when something makes you call out : "Jake."
He stops and looks back.
"Thanks for walking me," you say. "Even if you didn't have to."
A small shrug. "It's fine. I wanted to, anyway." And he's already gone, his footsteps echoing in the corridor, and you're left standing in your doorway, keys still in hand, watching the space where he was.
You unlock the door, step inside, and close it behind you. The apartment is mostly empty, since your laziness won over you to unpack the rest of your stuff. You press your back against the door and stare at the ceiling.
This, you think, is exactly the kind of thing I'd roll my eyes at in a book.
Regardless, you can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, slow and helpless and embarrassingly real.
You're sprawled across the couch, legs tangled in a throw blanket, the glow of the television painting your face in shifting blues and reds. Some reality show about people competing to bake things that look like other things. It's mindless and perfect, exactly the sort of programming that requires zero cognitive effort. Your oversized t-shirt hangs off one shoulder with Justin Bieber's face from his Purpose World Tour, faded and cracked from years of washing. Below that, nothing but a pair of plain cotton panties. Your hair is messy, and there's a half-empty mug of tea growing cold on the floor beside you. You're comfortable. Vulnerable, maybe, but in the privacy of your own space, and that's all that matters.
Your gaze wanders into the kitchen and lands on the trash bin that is overflowing with flattened boxes and crumpled packing paper, the remains of a move you’re still halfway through. It doesn’t look like much, but you know it’ll be the first thing to irritate you in the morning if it’s left untouched. You weigh the options. Get dressed and actually put on pants, find a bra, the whole tedious ritual, or just…go. It's a quick trip. The trash chute is at the end of the hallway, maybe twenty steps from your door. The corridor has been empty all evening. And Jake has friends over. He's occupied. He's not going to be lurking around corners, waiting to ambush you with his inconveniently-timed presence.
Nobody will see you, you tell yourself. It's fine. You're fast as fuck.
You pad to the door, press your eye to the peephole. The hallway stretches, empty. Clear. You crack the door open, just wide enough to slip through, and you're out, barefoot, the cold floor sending a shiver up your legs. The trash bag is heavier than you expected ; you hoist it against your hip, jogging in that awkward, flat-footed way of someone who's both in a hurry and deeply aware of their own exposure. The chute is a metal hatch in the wall. You heave it open, shove the bag inside, hear it clatter down into the abyss. Mission accomplished.
You turn, already planning your retreat, and—
He's standing three feet away. Oh fuck off.
Jake.
He's holding a bulging trash bag of his own, the clink of glass bottles audible as he adjusts his grip. His eyes travel from your face down to the faded Bieber shirt, then back up, and there's a beat of silence where neither of you move. Your brain short-circuits and your mouth opens. What comes out is a garbled mix of syllables that might have been intended as "hey" but emerges as something closer to "heh—uh—I—"
He blinks. Slowly, the corner of his mouth twitches. "Didn't mean to startle you," he says, and his voice is level, calm, almost like he's trying to soothe a startled animal.
"You didn't—I mean, I was just—" You gesture clumsily at your attire, then at the trash chute, then back at yourself, as if this chain of context will explain everything. "The trash was full. And I didn't think anyone would be—I mean, you said you had friends—"
"Friends," he confirms. "They left about ten minutes ago. I was just cleaning up."
"Of course you were. That makes sense." You're still standing there, bare-legged, the shirt barely grazing your thighs, and the hallway suddenly feels like a wind tunnel. You cross your arms over your chest, which does absolutely nothing to help the situation. Jake doesn’t leer nor does he joke. He meets your eyes with that same searching look, softened now into quiet amusement. "You know," he says, "you have a habit of running into me in unexpected situations."
"This is your fault," you say, and the words come out sharp without real bite behind them. "You're supposed to be busy. That was the whole point."
"Sorry to inconvenience you by taking out my trash."
"You're not sorry, are you?"
"No," he admits, his half-smile edges into fuller one. "I'm not." He steps past you toward the chute, and you catch a whiff of a clean and comforting scent, the ordinary scent of someone who's recently showered. He drops his bag in, closes the hatch with a metallic thunk and turns back. "See you around, Bieber," he says, the warmth in the nickname makes your stomach flip.
He's walking back toward his apartment door, and you're standing once again, your face heating in an inexorable crawl. You wait until his footsteps fade before you scurry back to your door, slip inside, and press your back against the wood. The television is still playing, some contestant weeping over a collapsed trompe-l'oeil. You stare at the screen, unseeing.
Bieber.
You look down at the faded face on your shirt, at your bare legs, at the utter mess of your appearance, and you press the heels of your palms into your eyes like the day before. You're still standing with your back against the door, willing your face to return to a normal temperature, when the knock comes.
Three sharp raps.
Your entire body goes still. The television babbles on, oblivious, as you press your eye to the peephole. Jake. Of course. He's standing there, hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor, he's waiting for something. He's changed into a gray sweatshirt, hood down, hair slightly mussed. You don't open the door. You can't, not after what he just witnessed. Not with this shirt still on.
"What?" you call through the wood, and your voice comes out higher, strained.
"Y/N," His voice is muffled but clear. "I know you're in there."
"I'm not opening the door."
A pause. "I'm not asking you to."
"Why are you here then?"
He pauses again. You can hear him shift his weight. "I just wanted to say—" He stops, and you imagine him running a hand through his hair, figuring out how to phrase something. "The shirt. I really like it."
You press your forehead against the door. "You're lying."
"I'm not. I had that exact one in middle school and I wore it until the print started peeling off."
"That doesn't make it better."
"Maybe not." His voice carries a smile, you can hear it, the slight lift in the vowels. "I thought you should know, though. That's all."
You stay silent, unsure how to answer. The pause settles in, comfortable rather than tense, and you notice he isn’t hurrying to fill it.
"Anyways," he says finally, "goodnight, Y/N."
You hear footsteps, receding. You wait until the sound fades completely before you let out a breath you were holding deeply. Your reflection stares back at you from the peephole's warped glass, only a blur of color, but you can feel the heat still lingering in your cheeks. You push off from the door, walk back to the couch, and collapse into the cushions. The reality show contestants are still crying about pastries. You look down at Justin Bieber's faded face. At the cracked screen print and the worn collar.
He had this exact one in middle school, what a coincidence.
You pull the hem of the shirt, stretch it, let it snap back. A small, involuntary sound escapes your throat. It might be a laugh or anything else. You grab your phone, open your messages, and type out a single line to Jungwon.
Y/N [11:52 PM]
I think I'm in trouble.
But you delete it, toss the phone aside, and stare at the ceiling until your heartbeat settles to normal again.
It takes a while.
─────────
The morning came faster than you thought. You grab the umbrella on your way out ; the same flimsy black one that started this whole foolish chain of events ; and stop by the coffee shop before your shift. The barista barely glances up as you set it on the counter.
"Thanks," you say. "For letting me borrow it."
She waves a hand, already reaching for a pitcher of milk. "Keep it next time. We've got a whole graveyard of those things in the back."
You almost tell her there won't be a next time, yet the words feel like tempting fate, so you just nod and head out.
The elderly home is already rumbling when you arrive. Hanni greets you with a coffee cup thrust into your hands and a breathless update about Mr. Eom's missing dentures. You take a sip, let the caffeine do its work, and fall into the cadence of the morning.
By early afternoon, the sun is actually warm enough to justify a walk. You round up three residents ; Mrs. Han, who's having a good day and remembers your name, Mr. Chen, who doesn't say much but mumbles tunelessly under his breath and Jacob, who offered you the fake acorn. He's wearing a different cardigan today, mustard yellow, and he keeps patting his pockets like he's checking for something. The path behind the building winds through a small garden, past benches and bird feeders and a sad little fountain that hasn't worked in years. You walk slowly, matching their pace, letting Mrs. Han point out flowers she's identified incorrectly and pretending to take Jacob's commentary seriously.
It's peaceful, nearly meditative. A moment like this makes you wonder if this new life really is as bad as you thought.
Abruptly, a dog comes out of nowhere. A golden retriever ; young, gangly, all oversized paws and manic energy ; bounds across the grass with the focus of a missile. It's not aggressive and not even barking. It's excited, and its excitement is directed straight at Jacob, who is the slowest-moving, most startle-prone member of your little group. The dog lunges up before you can react, front paws slamming into Jacob’s chest. He rocks back, arms windmilling, then drops in a slow heap, feeling like it’s happening in two conflicting speeds at once.
"Jacob!" You're at his side in an instant, dropping to your knees, hands hovering unevenly. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"
Jacob blinks up at you, more confused than pained. His glasses are askew. "I dropped my acorn," he says.
"I'll find it. Just—stay still. Tell me if anything hurts."
A voice cuts through the chaos, alert and breathless. "Oh god—I'm so sorry—"
You look up. Jake is sprinting toward you, the dog's leash trailing behind him like a forgotten flag. He's in work clothes ; a navy polo with the shelter's logo, dirt smudged on his forearm ; and his face is veiled with unguarded panic.
The dog, oblivious, is now trying to lick Jacob's ear.
"Leo, down!" Jake grabs the dog's collar, hauls him back with a firm yet gentle tug. "I am so, so sorry. He got loose—I was just bringing him out for a walk and he saw the—are you okay? Is he okay?"
You're already helping Jacob sit up, checking his wrists, his neck, the back of his head. No swelling or bleeding. He's still patting his pockets for the acorn.
"He's fine," you say, your voice flat. "He's just disoriented."
"Thank god." Jake exhales, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. "I really am—I should have had a better grip on the leash. He's young, he's still learning, but that's not an excuse—"
"You're right." You stand, brushing grass from your knees. "It's not."
The silence that follows is stiffling. Mrs. Han is watching with curious eyes, Mr. Chen has stopped mumbling, and Leo is now sitting at Jake's feet, tail excitedly wagging. You turn to Jake fully. "You work at a shelter. You know how unpredictable dogs can be. Especially around elderly people. One wrong jump, one fall, and it's a broken bone or a concussion. That could actually hurt someone."
Jake meets your gaze without a trace of defensiveness or excuses. He simply nods slowly, his jaw tightening in restraint. "You're right," he says. "I wasn't careful enough. I got distracted, and I let him pull ahead, and I should have anticipated that this could happen." He glances at Jacob, who is now patting Leo's head with a delighted smile. "I'm really glad he's okay. And I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
The words settle with an unexpected weight, disarming you. You were ready for deflection, for something casual and rehearsed. Regardless, he stays still, accepting it without trying to cushion the blow.
You let out a breath. The adrenaline is fading, leaving behind a shaky residue. "Be more careful," you say, and your voice is quieter now. "Please."
"I will." He holds your gaze for another beat, and crouches down to Jacob's level. "Hey, sir. That was my dog. He's really sorry. Are you okay?"
Jacob looks at him, then at Leo before his gaze goes back at his empty palm. "I lost my acorn," he says, there's a note of genuine distress in his voice. Jake doesn't miss a beat. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small smooth stone and presses it into Jacob's hand. "Here. I found this, it must've been yours."
Jacob stares at it. His face splits into a wide, gap-toothed smile. "Thank you," he says, and clutches it like treasure.
You watch it unfold, something uneasy tightening in your chest. Jake stands and meets your gaze again. A flash crosses his face ; rueful, or closer to hope. "I'll make sure he's more secured next time," Jake says, nodding toward Leo. "And if there's anything I can do—"
"There isn't," you say, but the sharpness has gone from your voice. "But still...keep a closer eye on him."
"Always." He turns and walks back toward the path, Leo trotting obediently at his heel. You watch him go, the way his shoulders are slightly hunched, how he glances back once before rounding the corner.
Mrs. Han sidles up to you. "He's cute," she states. "The boy. Not the dog."
You open your mouth, not a sound escaping your mouth. You try again.
"Mrs. Han," you say, "you're supposed to be on my side."
"I am on your side," she says, patting your arm. "That's why I'm telling you."
You help Jacob to his feet, find his acorn in the grass, and start the slow walk back to the building. Your thoughts drift elsewhere, replaying Jake crouching down to Jacob’s level, finding the stone without hesitation, saying 'I will' like he truly meant it.
You shake your head, focus on the path ahead.
After you end your shift, you walk back to your apartment. The sky has gone hazy, and you keep your hands in your pockets, replaying the afternoon in fragments. You unlock your door, kick off your shoes, and collapse onto the couch. The television is still on from last night. You turn it off, let the silence settle.
You decide to pull out your phone and call Jungwon. He picks up, but the background noise is a wall of bass and overlapping voices. You can hear a bunch of voice shouting "CHUG CHUG CHUG!!!" and loud cheers. You hear a door slam, the noise muffles.
"Y/N?" His voice is slightly breathless. "Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," you say, and you mean it. "I just wanted to check in. You sound busy, though."
"I'm at a mixer party with my house and sororities. It's loud so I stepped outside." He stops for a second. "Are you sure you're okay? You never call this late."
"Late? It's like seven."
"Yeah. You're usually asleep by now."
You fairly laugh. "I've been more awake lately. I had a long day."
"Tell me about it."
So you do. You tell him about everything. You don't want to mention Jake.
"You sound good," Jungwon says when you finish. " Really good. Not just saying you're good."
"I think I am," you say, the words surprise you with their honesty.
"That's all I needed to hear." There's a muffled shout from behind him, someone calling his name. "I should get back. But call me anytime, okay? Even if it's just to complain about old people and dogs."
"Old people and dogs. The two pillars of my existence now."
"Don't let the dogs jump on you," he mentions, you can hear the smile in his voice.
"I won't. Have fun at your party."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
The line goes dead. You hold the phone for a moment before setting it aside, letting the quiet wrap around you. You stand, stretch, and gather your clothes for a shower, a clean towel, a change of underwear, the softest pair of sweatpants you own. You pad toward the bathroom, already anticipating the hot water, the steam, and the small escape from your own head.
You're two steps from the bathroom door when the lights flicker.
Once. Twice. It dies.
The apartment plunges into absolute darkness. No sound from the refrigerator, no glow from the microwave clock, just black, thick and total. You stand there, motionless, one hand gripping your towel, the other reaching for the wall. You feel along the switch, flick it up and down. There's nothing.
You step to the window to peer out. The streetlights are on. The building across the way is lit, warm rectangles of gold in every window. The coffee shop's neon sign still glows. You check your phone to see your battery at 60%. You switch on the flashlight, sweep it across the room. So it's only your apartment. The refrigerator is dead. The outlets are dead. The overhead light, the bathroom ; all dead. You flip the circuit breaker in the tiny panel by the door. Shit. You try the main switch. Nothing.
You stand there in the beam of your phone, your reflection ghostly in the dark window glass, wearing that stupid Justin Bieber shirt and holding a bundle of clean clothes, and you realize you have no flashlight, no candles, and mostly, no backup plan.
The silence presses in. 9C. A certain neighbor who might have a working outlet and a willingness to share. A part of you notes, almost critically, that this would be the kind of contrived convenience you’d hate in a book.
You sigh, grab your keys, and head for the door.
The hour stretches like taffy. You've tried the circuit breaker three times, called the landlord four times, and texted him twice, giving you no results. The voicemail picks up on the first ring, a generic recording without a name. You sit next to your door and consider your options. There's a motel two blocks away. There's the coffee shop, but they close in fifteen minutes. It got to be a joke.
And there's the door at the end of the hallway.
You pace. You argue with yourself. You list all the reasons this is a terrible idea ; all the incidents that happened and degraded your confidence, the fact that you've known this man for approximately forty-eight hours and he's already seen you at your most unguarded multiple times. But the need for a shower wins. You smell like old people and grass, with the sublte tang of anxiety sweat. You can't go to work like this tomorrow and you can't sleep like this tonight. So you put on a pair of shorts ; the longest ones you own ; and a different shirt, and you walk toward his door with the weight of your own dignity dragging behind you.
His door is at the end of the hall. You knock before you can talk yourself out of it. The door swings open. Jake stands there in a faded gray t-shirt and sweatpants, hair slightly damp, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. He's holding a half-eaten apple. His eyes land on you. Travel down to your shorts, back up to your face.
His mouth curves into a smile so wide, so unapologetically amused, that you feel it like a punch right in your guts.
"Bieber," he says. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Don't call me that." The words come out weak, deflated. "My power's out. The landlord won't answer and I absolutely need a shower."
He takes a bite of his apple. He chews slowly, considers you.
"Just the shower," you add, and you can hear how defensive you sound, how utterly transparent.
"I didn't say anything." He steps back, holds the door open. "Come in."
His apartment is small too, but lived-in. A couch with a blanket draped over the back. A stack of books on the coffee table. A guitar propped in the corner. The kitchen is visible from the living room, dishes drying on a rack, a pot of something that smells like garlic and tomatoes simmering on the stove. "Bathroom's down the hall, second door on the left," he says, pointing with the apple still in hands. "Towels are in the cabinet. Use whatever you need."
"Thanks." You pause at the threshold, suddenly aware of the absurdity of this. "I'll be quick."
"Take your time." That smile again, softer now. "I'll keep the apartment from burning down while you're in there."
You close the bathroom door behind you and lean against it, exhaling. Hot water, steady pressure, a luxurious flow that makes you forget every indignity that led you here. You stand under the spray as long as you can, letting it beat against your shoulders, your neck, the tension you've been carrying since yesterday. When you finally step out, wrapped in a towel, you catch your reflection in the mirror. Wet hair and pink cheeks. A stupid smile that you can't suppress.
Stop it. You wipe the steam from the mirror, and that's when you notice it. On the edge of the sink, next to a half-empty bottle of cologne, is a keychain. A small, plastic orange. Slightly faded, the paint worn at the edges.
Your breath catches. You have that exact same keychain. It's been on your keys for as long as you can remember. Well, as long as your memory goes back, which is not even a year. It's one of the few objects that survived the move, one of the small constants in the fog of your past.
You pick it up and turn it over. It's identical, even the little chip in the paint near the stem matches. You stare at it for a long moment. You dress quickly, step out into the hallway, and find Jake in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove. "Everything okay?" he asks without turning.
"Where did you get this?" You hold up the keychain.
He turns and sees it. For an instant, his expression falters into recognition before it smooths itself back into neutrality. "Oh, that." He sets down the spoon, wipes his hands on his sweatpants. "I found it, actually. A few years ago, on the street, I think. I kept it because—" He pauses, and you notice the way his eyes shift, slightly, like he's rearranging words in his head. "It reminded me of something. I don't know. I just liked it."
The explanation comes out too smooth and too rehearsed. You're wondering if he's said it before, practiced it, polished it until it sounded natural. You're not even sure why, something about how he said it, but you don't have the energy to interrogate right now. "Funny," you say, pocketing your own keys, where your matching orange dangles. "I have the same one."
He looks at you. You feel like you're standing on the edge of a cliff, for a jump you're not ready for.
"That is funny," he says, and his voice is softer now, almost distant. "Small world."
You nod, not trusting your voice. The moment stretches, fragile, and you're the one who breaks it. "I should go. Thanks for the shower."
"Anytime." He walks you to the door, and the teasing smile has returned. "If the power's still out tomorrow, you know where to find me."
"Bold of you to assume I'll survive that long."
"I have faith in you."
You roll your eyes, yet you're smiling as you step into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind you. You stand there for a moment, your keychain warm in your palm, and wonder what exactly you've just walked into. It's probably nothing, you tell yourself.
Oh it's definitely something.
─────────
A few days pass, you're unpacking one box at a time, learning where the light switches are without having to think about it, catching the same bus at the same time each morning until the driver starts to nod at you like an old acquaintance.
You see Jake in the hallways more often than coincidence should allow. Tuesday morning, you're leaving for work and he's coming back from a run, sweaty and out of breath, and he raises a hand in greeting without breaking stride. Fuck he's hot.
Wednesday evening, you're carrying a bag of groceries and he's hauling a bag of dog food toward the elevator, and you end up walking side by side without discussing it. Thursday, you don't see him at all, and you catch yourself checking the peephole before bed like a woman waiting for something she won't admit to wanting.
Friday arrives with gray skies and the particular exhaustion of a full week. You've just changed into sweatpants.
Three taps. You know who it is before you look. Jake is standing in the hallway wearing a knitted sweater and he's holding his keys in his hand. He looks different at night ; softer, somehow. The hard angles of his jaw blurred by the low light.
"I'm heading to the convenience store," he announces.
You lean against the doorframe. "It's eight o'clock."
"I'm aware. That's why I said convenience store and not, like, a sit-down restaurant." He jingles his keys. "You want to come?"
You hesitate for a second too long, and he catches it. His expression shifts into something hesitant. "For the accident," he adds. "Last week, with Jacob. I've been meaning to…I don't know. Make up for it, in a small way. This is the small way."
"You're making up for catastrophe with a trip to 7-Eleven?"
"Don't call it that. I'd rather call it a restitution." He pauses. "Also they have those frozen slushies that turn your tongue blue, and I don't want to drink one alone because that feels sad even by my standards."
You look down at your sweatpants. "Give me two minutes," you say.
"You look fine."
"I know I look fine. I want to look like I didn't just spend an hour lying on my floor thinking about nothing."
He blinks. "That's—"
"Two minutes." You close the door and change into jeans. You don't know why. It's just the convenience store after all. Although you put on real pants anyway, and you run your fingers through your hair, and when you open the door again, he's still standing there, checking his phone. "Cute," he says, not looking up.
"Shut up."
The walk is short ; five blocks, past the coffee shop with the broken umbrellas, past a laundromat, and past a house with a porch light that flickers like it's sending morse code. The air is cold enough to see your breath, and Jake walks on the street side of the sidewalk without making a thing out of it.
You two arrive at the convenience store, with the buzzing lights overhead. A bell dings when you walk in. The guy behind the counter is watching a small TV mounted in the corner, some sports game apparently.
You grab a basket and Jake grabs another. "This is a competition now," he says.
"It's always been a competition."
The snack aisle is narrow, forcing you to stand closer than necessary. You reach for a bag of chips. He reaches for the same bag. Your hands collide, and he lets you take it without a fight, which is suspicious. "You're being nice," you say.
"What do you mean? I'm always nice."
"No but, like, you're being strategically nice."
He grins. It's crooked and quick, making your chest tighten. "I just want you to let your guard down so I can steal the last bag of sour stripes."
"I don't even like sour stripes."
"Everyone likes sour stripes. That's like saying you don't like breathing."
You move down the aisle, scanning the shelves. Your fingers hover over a bag of shrimp crackers ; the spicy kind, bright red packaging, which Jungwon used to make fun of you for buying in bulk. You reach for them at the same time he does. "These," he says, pushing the bag toward you. "Get these."
"I was going to."
"They're your favorite, right?"
You stop. Your hand freezes over the bag. "I didn't tell you that."
He's already looking at the next shelf, picking up a pack of chocolate cookies, turning it over to read the nutrition facts. His expression doesn't change. His voice is casual, almost bored. "Everyone likes spicy shrimp crackers," he says. "It's not some niche preference. It's a classic. Like salt and vinegar. Or barbecue."
"That's not—"
"I'm getting these," he interrupts, holding up the cookies. "You want a drink? They have that weird melon soda. Everyone says that it tastes like liquid gummy bear."
You stare at the back of his head in confusion. He's walking toward the drink cooler, shoulders relaxed, like the conversation is already over. You grab the shrimp crackers and follow him.
The park is two blocks from your building, a small wedge of grass with three benches and a set of swings that face a community garden. The swings are old, their chains rusty, seats scratched with names and dates, but they hold your weight when you sit. Jake takes the swing next to yours. The plastic bags dangle from his wrist, crinkling every time he moves. You've split everything down the middle ; your shrimp crackers, his chocolate cookies, two bottles of the melon soda, a shared bag of sour striped that he claimed were for everyone, still you've noticed he keeps eating.
The soda fizzes when you open it. The park is empty except for the two of you and a cat sitting on a bench across the grass, watching like it's waiting for something to happen. You swing a little, just enough to rock. The chains squeak.
"My brother," you say, because the silence feels good but you want to fill it anyway. "He's the reason I moved here. Not because he lives here—he doesn't. He lives like four hours away. He helped me find the apartment and with all the packing."
Jake doesn't say anything. He's unwrapping a chocolate cookie, breaking it in half.
"He's in college now," you continue. "Fraternity guy, and he’s so serious about it, which is funny because he's also the least intimidating person I've ever met. Once he cried because I didn’t want to go with him at the dentist."
"That’s cute."
"He's sensitive." You shrug. "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this."
"I won't tell."
The cat on the bench yawns. The swings creak. You take a sip of your melon soda and watch the clouds move past the streetlights.
"Jungwon," Jake says.
You almost choke.
"What?"
"Your brother." He's looking at his hands, turning the cookie over and over. "His name. You said it. Jungwon."
You frown. Your brain backtracks through the last thirty seconds, replaying your own words. You definitely didn't say his name. You've been careful about that by habit. Jungwon is precious to you. His name is something you keep close, like a photo in a wallet. "I didn't say his name," you say slowly.
His chewing stops. His throat moves as he swallows. The openness on his face is convincing enough to pass for genuine, if not for the faint impression that he's worn it many times before.
"You didn't?"
"No."
"Huh." He dusts cookie crumbs off his fingers. "Maybe I heard it wrong, or you mentioned it before and I remembered. I don't know."
"I've never mentioned his name."
The silence stretches. The cat on the bench stands up, circles once, lies back down. He sets the cookie down on the plastic bag between you. He wipes his hands on his jeans. For a moment, he looks like he's going to say something else that might explain the way he looked at you that first night on the steps, like he was trying to place you.
His shoulders drop. "He came by," he declares. "Before you moved in. Your brother, Jungwon." He says the name carefully, testing each syllable. "He was checking out the building and making sure the landlord wasn't sketchy. I ran into him in the hallway."
You stare at him.
"He asked me about the neighborhood," Jake continues. "Whether it was safe. Whether people were friendly, and all that stuff." A small smile, almost self-deprecating. "I think he was doing a background check on all the tenants."
"That sounds like him."
"Yeah." He picks up his soda to take a long drink. "He mentioned you, and that you were moving in. I remembered."
It fits, it’s plausible. Jungwon would absolutely do something like that ; interview strangers in hallways, gather informations, build a mental map of everyone who might cross your path. He's been doing it since you were kids, since before the accident, before you forgot a quarter your life.
Nonetheless, something about how Jake tells it feels off. The words are right and the timing is too. Yet, his hands are still, and his hands are never still on the daily basis. He's always tapping or fidgeting or running his fingers through his hair, and right now, sitting on this swing in the dark, he's perfectly motionless. You want to push further. There's something in the back of your mind, a nagging feeling that you couldn’t put a finger on. You can’t, the evening is too nice, and he's bought you snacks. You let it go.
"Small world," you say, echoing his words from the night when you took a shower at his place.
"Small world," he agrees.
─────────
You walk into the elderly home with your hair still damp and the taste of the spicy shrimp crackers lingering at the back of your throat. Hanni's already at the nurses' station, flipping through a clipboard with focus, she’s been here for hours. "You look less dead than yesterday," she says without looking up. "That's progress."
"I slept." You hang your jacket on the hook and grab your name tag. "Almost eight hours. Uninterrupted."
"Must be the neighborhood atmosphere." She finally glances at you, there's a knowing tilt to her mouth. "Or something else."
You ignore that last part. The morning unfolds like every other morning ; the slow parade of residents who need help finding their glasses or their dentures or their way back to their rooms. Mrs. Han asks you three times if you've met her son, and you say yes each time, and each time she looks satisfied and moves on. You're in the common room, helping Mr. Chen with a puzzle he's been working on for weeks, when your gaze drifts toward the window. The street outside is quiet, the morning light still pale and thin. And there, on the other side, is Jake. Can he not look hot for just one day?
He's walking three dogs at once ; a golden retriever, a wiry terrier, and a bulldog that seems to be leading the pack. The leashes cross and uncross as the dogs weave around each other, and Jake's holding them with the practiced looseness of someone who's done this a hundred times. He's wearing a worn denim jacket and a few strands of hair are falling on his face, and when he glances up and spots you through the glass, his whole face shifts. He lifts his free hand to give you a small wave, fingers wiggling. You wave back, your brain couldn’t catch.
The bulldog tugs him forward and he's gone, swallowed by the next block. You turn back to the room. Hanni's standing beside you, arms crossed, watching the empty street with an ambiguous expression plastered on her face. "That’s him?" she asks.
"Yeah."
She hums in a considering sound. "He's fucking hot."
You snort, but it comes out wrong, sounding a bit too defensive. "Yeah. He knows it too, I think."
"He doesn't seem like the type who knows it." She shrugs, uncrossing her arms. "He's unaware of his own face."
You don't respond. You're already looking back at the window, though he's long gone. "His nose," you say, the words stumbling right out of your head. "That's the thing. I can't—" You stop yourself, shake your head. "It's nothing."
Hanni could only nod, she understands and hands you a stack of folded towels. "Focus on the towels," she says. "The nose can wait."
You take the towels and get back to work. The image of him across the street stays with you for the rest of the shift.
The sidewalk cracks under your feet as you walk, the sky a pale gray that threatens nothing in particular, hopefully not rain. You pull out your phone, scroll to Jungwon's contact, and press call. He picks up after some time, which means he's either not busy or he's avoiding something.
"What’s up?" he says. "You're calling at a normal time. That's kind of suspicious."
"I'm walking home from work and I thought I'd fill the silence."
"Fill away."
As you ramble on everything, you don’t allow yourself to bring up Jake yet.
"Yeah." You kick a pebble off the curb. "It's weird, though. Sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be starting over. It just feels like—I don't know. Like I've been here longer."
"You have been there longer. In a way." His voice drops, careful. "You lived there before. Remember?"
You stop walking. A car passes, its headlights cutting through the dusk. You do remember—fragments, not really. The knowledge that you'd been in this city before the accident and the three-year gap in your memory. You'd chosen to come back because something about it felt familiar, even if you couldn't know why.
"Yeah," you say. "I keep forgetting that part."
Silence on his end. You start walking again. "There's this guy," you say carelessly, and you already regret it. "In my building. His name is Jake. We keep running into each other."
"What kind of running into?"
"Literally and figuratively. He nearly killed one of the old folk at my work. Long story." You suddenly pause. "He has this orange keychain. The same one I have. You know, the little fruit thing on my keys."
You can hear him breathing, he's seems like measuring his response. "That's weird," he says. "That's a weird coincidence."
"Yeah, I know." You wait for him to say more but he doesn't. "He also said he met you when you came to check out the apartment before I moved in. You talked in the hallway, isn’t it?"
"I did talk to someone. I don't remember his name, though."
"Jake," you repeat. "You don't remember him?"
"Lot of people in that building. I was there for like an hour." He laughs but it sounds flat. "Why are you asking?"
You don't know why you're asking. The question hangs there, unanswered, as you round the corner and your building comes into view. "Pure curiosity," you say. "He's nice. We went to the convenience store last night."
"The convenience store at night. Like a date?"
"Not a date, it was an apology. His dog knocked over an old man at my work."
Jungwon is quiet for a beat before talking again. "Don’t tell me that you like him."
"It's not like that."
"It's exactly like that. I can hear it in your voice."
You stop at the front door of your building, hand on the handle. It’s cool under your palm. "I don't even know him. We've talked, like, four times."
"And you're already calling him by name. That's more than you do with most people."
You leave the question unanswered. The door opens, and the smell of aged carpet and lingering cooking oil greets you before anything else. "I'll talk to you later," you say.
"Okay. But Y/N—"
"What?"
"Be careful, okay? Just—" He stops. "Just be careful with yourself. You're still figuring things out. I love you."
"I know. Love you too." You hang up and stand in the foyer, phone warm in your hand. The hallway stretches ahead, empty and quiet as usual. You climb the stairs slowly instead of taking the elevator, each step slow. What is happening? Something doesn't add up.
─────────
The banging comes from somewhere down the hall. Sharp and insistent, the sound of a fist against wood or maybe a shoulder against a frame. You freeze mid-step, your keys still in the lock, heart lurching into your throat. The apartment building is usually calm at this hour with the muffled sound of someone's guitar upstairs or television, but nothing like this.
You press your eye to the peephole but the angle is wrong, the fish-eye view showing only the empty stretch of hallway directly outside your door. The banging continues, punctuated by a voice. It’s raised, female, too muffled to make out words but carrying an obvious edge of distress.
The smart move would be staying inside, lock the door, call 911 and wait it out. The sound carries a note of despair that makes you pause. Your mind drifts to the building's elderly residents and the possibility that someone is in trouble. Before the thought has time to settle, you're unlocking the door and pulling it open.
You step into the hallway.
Jake is there, about twenty feet down, his back half-turned to you. A woman stands in front of him, her posture stiff, her hands gesturing in jagged movements. She's undeniably pretty ; dark hair pulled back, a denim jacket, boots that look expensive. Her face is flushed, and even from here you can see the tension in her jaw. "It's not fair," she's saying, her voice cracking. "You can't just—I've been trying for months, Jake. Months. And you just—"
"Luna." Jake's voice is low, placating, his hands raised in that universal gesture of de-escalation. "I've told you. It's not like that. I'm not—"
She scoffs, loud and bitter. "Not what? Not interested? You've made that fucking clear."
You're frozen in the doorway, unsure whether to retreat or announce your presence. The woman's head snaps toward you, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing.
"Oh," she says, the word dripping with annoyance. Her eyes scan you for approximately 5 seconds. "Great. She’s back." She brushes past you without another word, her shoulder colliding with yours hard enough to make you stumble back a step. The elevator doors close behind her, and it's just you and Jake in the hallway now. He's still standing there, hands lowered now, his face a mingle of exhaustion and embarrassment. He runs a palm over his jaw, lets out a long breath.
She's back. What?
"That," he says, "was not how I wanted you to meet my coworker."
You blink at him. "Coworker?"
"Luna." He points loosely toward the elevator. "She works at the shelter with me. We've known each other since we were kids."
You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. "She seemed upset."
"She's been upset for a while." He rubs the back of his neck. "She's had a thing for me. For years. And I keep telling her I don't feel that way, but she doesn't—" He exhales again. "She doesn't take it well."
You raise an eyebrow. "So she followed you home and banged on your door?"
"She showed up unannounced. I was trying to calm her down. She's not a bad person, she just—" He hesitates, searching for the right words. "She's stubborn, and she doesn't like hearing no."
You study him. His shoulders are still tense, his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He looks genuinely rattled, not like someone who's been caught in a lie. "Childhood friends," you repeat. "she's been flirting with you, and you felt bad for her."
"First, I’m not flirting with her and I’m not planning on it. I felt bad because I know she's lonely. She's been through some stuff. But I can't—" He looks at you, his expression transforming invisibly. "I can't give her what she wants. It wouldn't be fair to her. Or to anyone else."
"I’ve never seen you so flustered," you declare softly. He huffs a laugh, short and breathy. "Yeah, well. You bring out the best in me."
You push off from the doorframe. "She seems like she'll be fine."
"She'll be fine. She always is." He pauses. "Thanks for not assuming the worst."
"I assumed the worst," you admit. " A girlfriend and an angry breakup."
"Not a girlfriend," he says. "Not even close."
You nod, and the moment stretches between you, comfortable but charged. "Goodnight then, Jake."
"Sleep tight, Y/N."
You close the door behind you and lean against it, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall.
Not a girlfriend. Is he lying?
You don't know why that detail settles in your mind the way it does. You’d rather sleep it away.
─────────
You're coming back from a late shift, leaving your feet sore and your brain half-fogged, when you round the corner to your floor and find the hallway occupied. Four of them, clustered around Jake's door like they're waiting for someone to let them in. You recognize Jake immediately ; he's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, laughing at something one of the others said. The other three are strangers, but they have that easy familiarity with each other, displaying years of friendship.
Jake spots you first. His face shifts, the laugh settling into a smile that's more reserved but no less warm. "Y/N," he says. "You're back late."
"There was a lot of work to do." You slow your pace, your keys already in hand. "I wasn't expecting to see a lot of people today."
One of the strangers ; tall with sharp features and a casual slouch ; he steps forward, extending a hand. "Jay. I've heard about you."
"Good things, I hope."
"Debatable." The one next to him grins, softer, with eyes that crinkle at the corners. "I'm Heeseung. This is Sunghoon, and that's Jenna, his girlfriend."
Jenna waves from where she's tucked under Sunghoon's arm. She has a face that immediately puts you at ease, round and open and curious.
"We were about to have a drink," Jake announces. "You want to join?"
You hesitate. The exhaustion is tugging at your limbs, but the alternative is your empty apartment and the leftover convenience store chips you've been picking at for days. "Sure," you say. "Why not."
His apartment is the same as before, but with four extra bodies it feels smaller, more alive. Jay immediately claims the couch, sprawling like he owns it. Heeseung perches on the armrest. Sunghoon and Jenna take the floor, backs against the coffee table, and Jake gestures for you to take the single chair by the window.
"Drinks are in the kitchen," he says. "Help yourself."
You grab something from the fridge ; a cheap beer, nothing fancy ; and settle into the chair. The conversation flows around you, natural and unforced, as they talk about work and mutual friends and an inside joke about the shelter.
After two or three drinks, someone suggests a game. "Chug or dare," Jay announces, the glint in his eye makes you immediately suspicious. "You know the rules. Pick chug, you finish your drink. Pick dare, you do whatever we come up with. But you’re forbidden to back down."
"Really?" you say. "This is how you treat your guests?"
"Guests are the most fun," Heeseung says. "You're fresh meat."
Jake shoots them a warning look, veiled with exasperation. "You don't have to play. They're idiots."
"We’re not," Sunghoon protests. "Jake, it’s been years since we know each other. Don’t be surprised."
You look around the room. The faces watching you are expectant, amused, a little bit reckless. The knot in your chest loosens. "I’m in. I'm taking Jake down with me, though."
The first few rounds are tame. Heeseung chugs three times in a row and declares himself champion. Sunghoon dares Jay to do a handstand, which he fails spectacularly. Jenna picks dare and has to call her mom and tell her she loves her, which she does with zero hesitation and an extreme level of sincerity.
After that, the bottle lands on you. "Y/N," Jay says, rubbing his hands together. "Chug or dare?"
You weigh your options. Your drink is half-full. "Dare."
Jay leans forward, eyes glittering. "I dare you to tell us what you first thought when you saw Jake."
The room goes quiet. Jake's hand stops mid-reach for his bottle.
"That's not a dare," you say. "That's kind of embarrassing."
"It's the correct functionality of a dare." Heeseung is grinning now, too. "Answer the question."
You look at Jake. He's watching you with a curious expression.
"You want the honest answer?" you ask.
"Always."
"His nose." The words come out neutral. "I thought it was ridiculous how perfect it was. It’s like someone sculpted it. It's annoying, honestly."
A beat of silence. Then Jay doubles over, slapping his knee. Heeseung lets out a wheeze of a laugh. Sunghoon is covering his mouth, eyes wide. Jenna just shakes her head, grinning. Jake's face has gone slightly pink. He looks down at his bottle, then back at you, and his face softens. "That's not what I expected," he says.
"I had to be unpredictable."
The game continues. Jenna gets dared to chug and does it with ease. Sunghoon gets asked if he'd rather fight a bodybuilder or five horses, and he spends five minutes arguing the logistics. Heeseung picks chug three times in a row and is visibly struggling to stay upright, his ears turning bright pink.
It's Jake's turn. "Chug," he says immediately.
"Whoa, not too fast." Jay says. "You're not getting out of it that easy. I'm changing the rules. You have to pick dare."
"Since when can you change the rules?"
"Since I'm the one asking." Jay grins. "Dare : show us the most embarrassing thing on your phone."
Jake's eyes narrow. "I'm not doing that."
"Then you have to answer a question instead," Sunghoon offers. "From anyone in the room. You pick who."
Jake considers this. His gaze scans the room, passing over Jay and Heeseung, settling on you for a moment before moving to Jenna. "Jenna. Ask me anything."
Jenna tilts her head, thinking. "Why did you move back to this city?" The question lands differently than the others. The light atmosphere falters slightly. Jake's jaw tightens, and for a second you see an unguarded expression crossing his features.
"Personal reasons," he says. "I needed to be back here."
"That's vague," Heeseung notes.
"It's still an answer." Jake picks up his bottle. "I'm drinking now." He finishes his drink in one long swallow, and everyone lets it go.
The bottle spins again, lands on you. Jay's turn to ask. "Chug or dare?"
You're feeling the warmth of the alcohol now, loose and careless. "Dare."
"I dare you to kiss Jake."
The room goes dead quiet. You hear someone inhale sharply ; maybe Jenna or yourself. Jake's head snaps toward Jay, disbelief and uncertainty show on his features.
"Jay," he mumbles, his voice has an edge to it. "That's not—"
"Too late," Jay cuts him off. "She already picked. Rules are rules."
You look at Jake. He's sitting across from you, one arm draped over the back of the couch, his bottle dangling from his fingers. The light from the kitchen catches the lines of his face, the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. That stupid, perfect nose. Lord, why would you make me cross paths with a guy that I obviously can’t have? He’s going to be fucking weirded out since I haven’t kiss a single soul in my entire life.
"I don't have to, right?" you say. "I can chug instead."
"You're not chugging." Jay's tone is firm. "That's not how the game works."
The silence lingers. Jake holds your gaze, his expression betraying him ; hesitation, or resolve masquerading as it. Whatever it is, it stays unspoken.
"Jake," you say, and your voice comes out steady. "What do you think?"
He studies you in silence for what feels like an eternity. Then he sets his bottle down with delicate care, rises, and slowly closes the distance between you. "Okay," he says lowly. "If you're okay with it."
You're not sure if you're okay with it. I mean, he’s hot for sure. You're lost right now, while his hand finds the back of your chair, he leans down, his breath is warm and smells faintly of beer. His lips brush your cheek. Soft, quick, almost unsure. It's not a kiss, not really ; it's the ghost of one, lingering just long enough to leave a hot mark. He straightens up and steps back. The room erupts into wolf-whistles and laughter.
"Cheater," Jay yells. "That's not a kiss."
"Mind you, those are my favorite kind." Jake says, and he's looking at you, not at Jay. You touch your cheek, where the warmth of his lips still lingers. Your face is burning, you're not sure if it's embarrassment or something else. "You're a coward," you say, your tone weak.
He smiles, slow and crooked. "You’re going to thank me later."
The game dissolves after that, the energy beginning to loosen, more rambling. Jenna falls asleep against Sunghoon's shoulder. Heeseung starts recounting a story about one of his high school exes. Jake moves to the floor, leaning against the couch, and you find yourself beside him, your shoulders almost touching. Your head starts to pound.
The game continues. The bottle spins, lands on Jay, then Heeseung, then Jenna. People chug or dare with increasing abandon, the alcohol loosening tongues and lowering inhibitions. Sunghoon admits he once cried while arguing with Jenna. You're on your fourth bottle, maybe your fifth. The edges of the room have gone soft and blurry, and you're laughing at something Heeseung said that you're not entirely sure was a joke. Your face feels warm, your limbs loose, and when you lean back against the couch, your shoulder brushes Jake's once again.
The bottle spins again to land on you. Jay's turn, because it's always Jay. "Y/N. Chug or dare?"
"Dare." You're feeling bold, the alcohol humming in your veins. Jay's grin is wicked. "I dare you to spend ten minutes locked in Jake's bedroom. Just the two of you, with no phones."
The room erupts. Sunghoon lets out a low whistle and Heeseung chuckles while nearly passing out on the couch.
Jake shifts beside you. "Okay, let’s stop here—"
"You cheated earlier," Jay cuts him off. "You’ll have to make up for that."
You glance at Jake. His expression gives nothing away, even though the tightness in his jaw wasn't there a moment ago. He watches you closely, waiting for your reaction.
"Ten minutes?" you say. "That's it?"
"That's it."
You stand, and the room tilts slightly. You steady yourself against the arm of the couch. "Fine."
Jake stands too, as hesitant as before. He leads you down the short hallway to his bedroom, and you hear the hoots and catcalls from the living room as the door clicks shut behind you.
The room is small and neat. A bed with rumpled sheets, a dresser with a lamp, a window overlooking the street. And on the nightstand, next to a half-empty glass of water, a photo frame turned face-down.
Jake leans against the door, arms crossed. "You don't have to do this. We can just sit here and wait it out."
"Where's the fun in that?" You're already wandering around, peering at books on the shelf, a guitar propped in the corner. Your eyes keep drifting back to the photo frame. You walk toward it, curiosity tugging at you. "What's this?"
Jake's body goes still. Before you can reach for it, he's there, his hand catching your wrist, turning you toward him. "No, please don’t," he says, and his voice is urgent.
"Why? Is it embarrassing?"
"Something like that."
You're close now, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes, his pupils are dilated, there’s a slight sheen on his lower lip. The alcohol has made you bold and afraid of nothing.
"I want to see," you say.
He leans in for his lips find yours. The kiss is warm, lingering, carrying a soft urgency that feels almost like a plea. Even though you thought you had no experience in kissing, doing it with him nearly felt natural, as much as muscle memory. The world seems to melt around you. Your thoughts dissolve, and the photo frame slips from your mind as completely as if it had never been there. You stumble backward, your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and you fall onto the mattress, pulling him with you. He catches himself on his hands, hovering over you, but your legs are tangled and the momentum shifts and suddenly you're in his lap, straddling him, your knees on either side of his hips.
His hands find your waist, then slide down, settling on your butt. He squeezes, and you gasp against his mouth. He kisses you again, deeper and slower, his tongue brushing your lower lip. You arch into him, your fingers threading through his hair, and he groans, low and rough.
The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you breathing hard. He's looking up at you, his eyes pleading, his lips parted. "Y/N," he murmurs, your name sounds different in his mouth, sounding like it means something more.
You finally get the hang of it and you kiss him again. His hands tighten on your ass, pulling you closer, and you feel the heat of him through both your clothes. The world outside this room fades into static.
Ten minutes pass. Even longer than that.
You feel him shift beneath you, his hips rolling upward in a slow motion, sending a jolt through your entire body. His hands are still firm on your backside, guiding you, and you follow the movement without thinking, your own hips tilting to meet his.
The kiss breaks just long enough for you to gasp, and he takes the opportunity to press his mouth to your jaw, your neck, and the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you feel the low vibration of a sound that might be his voice or yours, you can't really tell anymore.
He grinds up into you again, and you feel the full heat of him through the denim, the friction of it making your head spin. Your breath is coming in short, uneven bursts, and his is the same ; harsh and ragged against your skin. His hands slide up from your backside to your waist, then back down, pulling you closer, harder, like he's trying to fuse you to him. You're not sure who moves first, but suddenly you're both lying back on the bed, him beneath you, your legs still straddling his hips, the kiss deepening into something messier. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and slip beneath, grazing the bare skin of your lower back, and you shiver.
Someone bangs at the door. Insistent knocks on the bedroom door. Heeseung's voice, muffled but audible. "Time's up! Ten minutes are over! You're not dead, are you?"
You both stop in your tracks. Your foreheads almost touching, your breath mingling in the small space between. He laughs from half-exasperation and half-relief. He drops his head back against the pillow, and you feel the tension in his shoulders subtly ease.
"Ignore him," he says while he's already loosening his grip on your waist, giving you space to pull back. You sit up, your thighs still bracketing his hips, and run a hand through your tangled hair. Your face is burning. Your lips feel swollen. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between you.
"We should—" you start, yet you don't know how to finish the sentence.
"Yeah." He's watching you from beneath half-lidded eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Heeseung bangs again. "I'm not leaving until you open the door! Jay's timing you!"
Jake groans without real frustration in it. He sits up slowly, his hands finding your waist and steadying you as you climb off his lap. You stand, smoothing down your shirt, and he gets to his feet, adjusting his jeans with casualness.
He opens the door.
Heeseung stands there, arms crossed, a triumphant grin on his face. "Took you long enough. What were you doing in there?"
Jake steps past him into the hallway. "Mind your own business."
You follow, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor, you catch Jenna's teasing glance and Jay's eyebrows have shot up past his hairline. You already have to resist the urge to hide behind Jake's shoulder.
"Drink," Heeseung says, shoving a fresh bottle into your hand. "You've earned it."
You take it carelessly. You stand there, feeling the phantom weight of Jake's hands on your waist, the lingering heat of his mouth on your neck. How the fuck am I going to face him after that?
Or any day after.
─────────
A week passes.
Seven days of routine, of work and sleep and the occasional text from Hanni about something absurd a resident did. You walk the same hallways, take the same elevator, pass the same doors. But you don't see Jake ; not in the corridor, not at the coffee shop and not on the street. It's like he's vanished into the walls of the building, existing only in the memory of that night ; the heat of his hands, the press of his mouth, and how your name rolled over his tongue in such a delicate way.
You tell yourself it doesn't matter, that it was just a game, just alcohol, just ten minutes in a locked room that somehow stretched into something you can't stop replaying. You tell yourself you're not looking for him when you walk past his door nor listening for his footsteps on the stairs.
You can’t even lie to yourself.
Jungwon arrives on Friday afternoon, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a grin that takes up half his face. He hugs you in the doorway, squeezing too tight, and you let him because you've missed him more than you realized.
"Damn. It’s smaller then I remember," he announces, dropping his bag on the floor. "Like, really small. How do you live here?"
"I manage."
"Barely, by the looks of it." He peers at the stack of boxes still in the corner, the ones you haven't touched since you moved in. "You haven't unpacked everything."
"I'm getting to it."
"Yeah, right."
The weekend unfolds. You take him to the park, to the coffee shop, to the elderly home to meet Hanni and Jacob and Mrs. Han. He charms everyone, that's what he does the best, and by the end of the first day he's already promised to visit again.
Sunday afternoon, you're walking back from the park, the sun warm on your shoulders. Jungwon is telling you about a girl in his sociology class, someone he's been dancing around for weeks, he met her that one mixer party, and you're listening with half your attention, the other half occupied by the streets and the weight of your keys in your pocket. You round the corner into your building's corridor.
No way.
Jake.
He's standing by his door, keys in hand, like he's just coming back from somewhere. He looks up as you approach, and for a moment, A subtle change passed over his face. His eyes lit with recognition, followed by a fleeting trace of relief that was quickly replaced by his usual impassive stance.
"Y/N," he says. "Hey."
"Hi."
Jungwon's gaze flickers between you, sharp and assessing. "You're Jake," he says, there's a weight to the words that makes you look at him. Jake's posture shifts, almost imperceptibly. "Yeah. And you're Jungwon."
"You remember me."
"I remember a lot of things." Jake's voice is calm, yet there's a tension in his jaw that wasn't there before. You look between them, suddenly aware that you're missing something. "You two already know each other. From before I moved in, right?"
"Briefly," Jungwon says, and the word is clipped. He turns to you, his expression softening. "Y/N, can you go inside? I want to talk to Jake for a minute."
"What? Why?"
"I—" He hesitates. "I'll explain later. Please."
You look at Jake. He's watching Jungwon with an expression you can't read, and when he meets your gaze, there's something almost apologetic in it.
"Please," Jungwon repeats.
You hesitate, the key in your hand feeling heavier than usual. Jungwon has never asked you for much, and the look on his face is earnest in a way you rarely see. "Fine," you say, and you don't miss the way both of them exhale just slightly. "You better tell me later."
You slip into your room and quietly shut the door behind you. Remaining still, you lean close until your ear rests against the wood, listening for the hushed conversation outside. Only faint murmurs reach you, too muffled to make out.
You stand in the middle of your apartment, staring at the closed door, your hand still resting on the handle. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, broken only by the distant sound of traffic from the street. You count the seconds, then the minutes, your mind spinning through possibilities you can't figure out.
When the door finally opens, Jungwon steps inside and closes it behind him with a soft click. He doesn't meet your eyes immediately, and his shoulders are set in an unusual way ; the tension he carries when something is bothering him but he doesn't want to talk about it.
"Everything okay?" you ask.
He runs a hand through his hair, exhales slowly. "Yeah, it’s fine. It was—" He stops, shakes his head. "He's a little weird. That's all."
"Weird how?"
"I don't know." He shrugs too quickly. "It’s just the way he talks. He sounds like he knows more than he's saying. It's probably nothing."
You study him. His jaw is tight, and there's a crease between his brows that he's trying to smooth away. You've known him your whole life, or at least the parts you remember, and you can tell when he's holding something back. "Jungwon." You keep your voice level. "What did you talk about?"
He moves past you toward the kitchen, opens the fridge, and stares inside with focus. "I just wanted to get a read on him and make sure he's not some weirdo who's going to cause problems for you."
"And?"
"And he's not." He pulls out a bottle of water, twists off the cap to take a long drink. "He seems fine. Genuine, even. I just—" He pauses and sets the bottle down. "I don't know. There's something about him that feels familiar, and I can't figure out what it is."
Your stomach tightens. "Familiar how?"
"I don't know." He says it again, more frustrated this time. "It's probably nothing. I'm probably just being overprotective."
The unease that's lingered since the moment you saw the keychain resurfaces with renewed force. Jake's searching gaze keeps replaying in your mind, refusing to be ignored. Questions crowd your thoughts, but one look at Jungwon's guarded expression tells you this isn't the time to press him. You know he'd only withdraw further.
"Okay," you say. "If you say it's nothing."
"It's nothing." He meets your eyes, something in his gaze that's almost pleading. "Drop it, okay? For now."
You nod, even though every instinct is telling you not to. He relaxes for a bit, and the moment passes. Something is happening. Something you don't understand. And you're starting to think that the answers might not be as simple as you hoped.
─────────
As the door shuts behind Jungwon, the apartment returns to its usual calm. You stand quietly, replaying the fragments of a conversation you were never meant to hear. Whatever Jake said has stayed with him, but his expression is firmly closed off.
You wander into the living room, grab your phone and scroll through notifications. A news alert catches your eye ; an article about the sequel to that movie you've been waiting for, the one you've watched half a dozen times since you moved. Your stomach drops as you read the date. The premiere was last week. You missed it.
You're already moving toward the door before you fully decide to go. Your shorts are fine. The hoodie is fine. It's just a movie, and the theater is only a few blocks away. You don't bother changing or checking your reflection. You grab your keys and step into the hallway.
Jake is at the elevator, walking out as you're heading down. He stops when he sees you, his gaze traveling over your outfit, the urgency in your stride.
"Whoa," he says. "Where's the fire?"
"Movie." You're already past him, one hand on the buttons. "The sequel to that film I've been waiting for. I missed the premiere. I'm trying to catch a showing."
He watches you for a beat, then his hand lands lightly on your arm, stopping you. "Wait. Which movie?"
You tell him the title. His eyebrows lift.
"I like that one too," he says. "I actually have it. The original, I mean. On my laptop. I downloaded the sequel the day it came out."
You blink at him. "You downloaded it?"
"Yeah. I was going to watch it tonight, actually." He drops his hand and shoves it into his pocket. "If you want, you could watch it with me, at my place. Instead of running to the theater in shorts."
The simplicity of his offer makes it harder to dismiss. You think about the movie theater and everything that comes with it, but those thoughts are quickly overshadowed by the past week without him, the lingering uncertainty between you, and the rush of your heartbeat. "That's not weird?" you ask. "Watching a movie with your neighbor you haven't talked to in a week?"
He shrugs, a small smile playing at his mouth. "It's a good movie. And I promise I won't talk during the quiet parts."
You consider it. The hallway is dark, the evening light filtering through the window at the end. He's standing there, patient, and waiting for your answer.
"Okay," you say. "I don’t want to share my snacks, though."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
You follow him to his door, your footsteps echoing in the hallway. His apartment is just as you remember it ; the guitar, the books, the soft warm lights. He gestures toward the couch while he grabs his laptop from the coffee table and plugs it to the TV. You settle into the cushions, pulling your knees up, the hoodie swallowing you. The screen lights up, the opening credits rolling. He sits at the other end of the couch, a respectful distance between you, and hits play.
The movie plays on, but neither of you is really watching anymore. The scenes blur into background noise, punctuated by your shared laughter at a line you both find cliché, a character you both hate, a moment that still makes you cringe after all these years. Between scenes, you talk ; about the original movie, about other films, about nothing at all ; and the space between you shrinks with each exchange.
You barely register the moment his arm comes to rest along the back of the couch. The small brush of his fingertips against your shoulder goes unnoticed too. It's only when his hand settles there, warm and reassuring, his thumb lazily drawing slow circles over your hoodie, that you become aware of just how close he is. The blanket is draped over both of you, a thin barrier against the cool air of the apartment. His other hand slips beneath it, finding your thigh, resting there with a casualness that feels anything but like it. You lean into him, your head drifting toward his shoulder, the conversation fading into comfortable silence.
The movie continues, although you can feel your eyes becoming heavy. The warmth of his hand on your thigh, the rhythm of his breathing, the low murmur of dialogue from the TV ; it all blends into a haze of contentment. Your eyelids droop, flutter, close.
"Y/N." His voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "You're falling asleep."
"Mmm." You don't open your eyes. "I know."
"Do you want to go back?"
The room stays quiet as his words linger. Beyond the door waits a dark hallway, an empty apartment, and a bed that has already gone cold. The image settles over you like a burden, leaving you with little desire to leave.
"I don't want to move," you murmur, the words slurred with sleep.
He's quiet for a moment before he decides to speak. "You could stay here if you want. I have an extra blanket, or—" He pauses. "The bed's big enough."
You lift your head, blinking at him. His face is so close, his eyes soft in the low light of the screen. There's no expectation in his expression, no pressure. It’s an offer.
"Okay," you say.
He stands, extends a hand, and pulls you gently to your feet. You both walk shortly to his bedroom. He pulls back the covers, and you slip in, the mattress dipping under your weight. He climbs in behind you, his arm finding your waist, pulling you close. His chest presses against your back, his legs tangling with yours, and you feel his breath warm against the curve of your neck.
"You smell so good," he murmurs, the words a low vibration against your skin.
You laugh, low and drowsy. "I haven't showered."
"Don't care." His nose brushes your hairline. "You always smell good."
His arm tightens around you, his hand splayed across your stomach. His lips press a soft, absent kiss to your shoulder, then another, barely there. "Your skin is so soft too," he confies, you can hear the smile in his voice. "I wanted to tell you that before. When you got out of the shower at my place, that first time. But I didn't want to be weird."
"You're being weird now," you mumble, but you're smiling too.
"Keep acting like you don’t like it." He nuzzles into your neck. "I'm okay with it."
You feel his hand slide from your stomach to your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles against the bone. His breath evens out, his body relaxing behind you, and you feel yourself sinking into the warmth of him.
"Jake," you say, barely audible.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for letting me stay."
He squeezes you gently, his lips pressing against your hair. "Anytime, Y/N."
Curled against his chest, you slowly surrender to sleep. His arm remains securely around you, its warmth grounding you until the last of your thoughts dissolve.
─────────
The sunlight filters through the curtains, and you blink awake slowly, your mind still thick with sleep. The bed is warm, the sheets tangled around your legs, however, the space beside you is empty. You reach out, your hand finding only cool fabric.
You lie there for a moment, orienting yourself. Jake's room. Jake's bed. The events of the night before trickle back in fragments. You check your phone on the nightstand. Saturday, 9:47 AM. Two days off stretching ahead of you, unplanned and open. You pad out of the bedroom, still in the oversized hoodie you wore last night, your hair a mess and your eyes half-opened. The smell of coffee hits you brutally. Jake is standing at the kitchen counter, a mug in one hand, his phone in the other. He's in a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his hair still sleep-tousled, and he looks up when he hears your footsteps.
"Morning," he says, his voice so soft and reassuring. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked comfortable."
"You're still here," you say, your voice scratchy. "Don't you have work?"
He shakes his head. "Day off. I figured I'd take it easy."
You close the distance without giving yourself time to hesitate. Slipping your arms around his waist from behind, you rest your cheek between his shoulder blades. Warmth radiates through him, and you feel his entire body go still beneath your embrace. He stays still. His breath barely catches, and you feel the tension ripple through his shoulders. After that, his hand comes down to rest over yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.
"Y/N," he says, and his voice is rougher than before. "You're going to make me drop my coffee."
"Put it down, then."
He does as you say. You hear the mug clink against the counter, and then he's turning in your arms, his hands finding your waist, his face close to yours. A flush is creeping up his neck, pink and noticeable, the sight of it makes thousands of sparks flicker in your stomach.
"You're blushing." you observe.
"I’m not," he says, his ears are red now, and he's not meeting your eyes. "I just wasn't expecting a hug. First thing in the morning. From someone who—" He stops, clears his throat. "Never mind."
"From someone who what?"
He finally looks at you, vulnerability filling his gaze completely. "From someone I really didn't want to wake up alone."
Words fail you, so you simply stay where you are. He pulls you into him, holding you with gentleness before resting his forehead against the top of your head. As he breathes in deeply, the strain he'd been carrying begins to slip away.
"Your hair smells like my shampoo," he mumbles into your hair.
"Your shampoo smells good."
"It's just generic stuff from the convenience store."
"Still smells good."
He laughs, soft and warm, and his arms tighten around you. "That sounded stupid, doesn’t it?"
You smile and chuckle against his chest. "A little bit."
You only eat eggs, toasts and drink coffee, but it feels like more than that. You sit across from him at his small kitchen table, the soft light of the sun landing on his face, and the conversation flows easily between bites.
He tells you about the shelter and problems that he had when he took care of a dog for the first time, and you do the same.
"It's a good job," you say, stirring your coffee. "Exhausting, but good. They make me laugh sometimes."
"They sound like characters."
"They are." You pause, watching him over the rim of your mug. "Can I ask you something personal?"
He looks up, a hint of wariness in his eyes, but he nods. "Sure."
"Why did you move back here? You said that night at the game—personal reasons. But you didn't elaborate."
He's quiet for a moment, his fork hovering over his plate. "I had some things to figure out," he says slowly. "Things I couldn't figure out anywhere else."
"Like what?"
He meets your gaze, something you can’t quite read passes across his face. "Like whether some things are worth coming back for."
The answer is vague and careful, yet there's a weight to it that makes you not want to know more about it. So you don't.
"Your turn," you say instead. "You can ask me anything."
He sets down his fork, considering. "What made you choose this city? Out of all the places you could have gone."
You look down at your coffee. The steam rises in slow spirals. "I used to live here. Before the accident." You say it matter-of-factly, you've learned to say it over the past year. "I don't remember it, but something about it felt right. Like I was supposed to come back."
"The accident," he repeats, and his voice is measured now. "You've mentioned it before. The memory loss."
"Yeah." You wrap your hands around the mug, let the warmth seep into your palms. "Three years. Just gone. I woke up in the hospital and suddenly I was 22, and I didn't remember being 21, 20 and even 19. My brother had to tell me who I was friends with, where I'd worked, what I'd done." You pause. "It's strange. Knowing there's a version of yourself out there that you'll never meet."
Jake is watching you intently, his breakfast forgotten. "That must have been hard," he says quietly.
"It was. Still is, sometimes. There are things I know I'm supposed to remember—people, places, moments—and I just can't access them. It’s like a locked door I don't have the key to."
He's silent for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is softer than before. "Do you ever feel like you're close to remembering? Or that something triggers it?"
You consider the question. "Sometimes it’s little things. A smell, a song, or an object." You think of the keychain, the one that matches his. "But it never sticks. It's just—there and it’s gone."
He nods slowly.
"Sorry," you say. "That got heavy."
"Don't apologize." He reaches across the table, his hand covering yours. "Thank you for telling me."
You look at his hand on yours, warm and soft. "Your turn," you say, trying to lighten the mood. "Ask me something else."
He thinks for a moment. "What's your favorite thing about this city? Now that you're back."
You smile, the tension easing. "The coffee shop on the corner. They have terrible pastries but really good lattes."
He laughs, and the sound fills the kitchen. "I'll have to try it sometime."
"Maybe I'll take you." The words come out before you can stop them, and you feel a flush creep up your neck.
He squeezes your hand. "I'd like that."
The morning stretches into a lazy afternoon. You've migrated to the couch, your phone in one hand, scrolling through nothing in particular. Jake is stretched out beside you, his head resting on your thigh like it belongs there, his own phone held above his face. The weight of him is warm and familiar now, and you've stopped overthinking how his hair brushes against your bare knee.
He's quiet, focused on whatever he's reading, his thumb occasionally swiping. You're half-watching a video on your own screen, the sound muted, when you feel his body shift. A pause. His thumb stops moving.
Then his free hand moves, quick and unexpected, his fingers finding the spot just above your knee. He digs in lightly, and you jolt, your phone nearly slipping from your grip.
"Jake!" Your voice comes out loud, a mix of surprise and laughter. "What are you doing?"
He grins, an unapologetic grin, and his fingers keep moving, dancing along the sensitive skin of your thigh. You try to twist away, but his head is still heavy on your lap, pinning you in place, and he's using his other hand to trap your leg.
"Stop—" You're laughing, breathless, trying to grab his wrist. "I'm serious—"
"Are you?" His voice is teasing and low. His fingers find your ribs, and you arch, a helpless sound escaping you.
"You're the fucking worst." You manage to grab his hand, but he's stronger, and he uses the momentum to roll slightly, shifting so he can reach your side. The tickling intensifies, and you're squirming, your free hand batting at his shoulder.
"Say I'm the best," he says, his voice muffled against your stomach.
"Never."
He doubles down, and you dissolve into helpless laughter, your phone clattering onto the floor. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
"Okay—okay—you're the best." The words come out in a wheeze. "You're the best, Jake. I surrender."
He stops, his hand stilling, still he doesn't move away. His face is close now, hovering over you, his eyes bright with amusement and softness beneath.
"That was easy," he says.
"Fuck you."
"You wouldn't," He settles back down, and you slap his arm for the comment. His head finding your lap again, his hand resting loosely on your knee. "Don't worry. I'll go easy on you next time."
You pick up your phone with your heart is still racing, and you can feel the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of your shorts.
A random movie starts on the laptop screen, playing as background noise to fill the silence. You're sitting on the floor between Jake's legs, your back against the couch, your head tilted back slightly as his fingers work through your hair. He's been at it for a while now, separating strands, twisting them together, muttering under his breath when they slip apart.
"Like this?" he asks, his voice close to your ear.
"Tighter," you say. "You're not pulling enough."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. Just—here." You reach up, your hand finding his, guiding his fingers to the right section. "Hold that one. Now cross it over the middle. Yes, like that."
He follows your instructions with concentration and that makes you smile. His fingers are careful, delicate, and you feel the gentle tug as he works through a tangle.
"You've done this before, no?" you say.
"Never. I'm just naturally talented."
You snort. "We'll see about that."
Another minute passes. He's quiet, too focused, and you can feel the slight movement of his hands as he continues his work. You're both lost in the small intimacy of the moment.
"Okay," he says finally. "I think I got it."
You reach up, your fingers brushing against the braid he's made. It's lopsided, uneven, with strands sticking out at odd angles. You tug at it gently, and a section comes loose.
"It's bad," you say, and you can hear the laughter in your own voice.
He lets out a mock-offended sound. "I spent ten minutes on that."
"Ten minutes and this is what I get?"
"I'm a beginner. Tell me I’m doing good. Please."
You turn your head to look up at him. He's pouting weakly, his bottom lip pushed out, his eyes looking down with exaggerated hurt.
"Okay," you relent. "You did great."
His expression shifts instantly, the pout melting into a pleased smile. "Really?"
"For a first try. It's not completely terrible."
"High praise." His hand finds your shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'll take it."
You settle back against the couch, your head still tilted to look at him. He's looking down at you, his gaze soft, unguarded, letting you see something he usually keeps hidden.
"These past few days," he says, his voice quieter now. "They've been—I don't know. I've been comfortable. More than I have in a while."
"You're not going to get all sentimental on me, are you?"
He laughs, low and warm. "Maybe a little. Is that okay?"
You wait and watch him, the light catches his eyes, the slight curve of his mouth. The air between you feels heavier now. He leans forward, his face hovering above yours, and you feel a pull ; something that tugs at the edges of your memory. The feeling is fleeting, gone before you can grasp it, yet it leaves a warmth in its wake.
"Y/N," he says, your name sounds different on his lips.
Suddenly, his mouth is on yours, gentle and upside down, his lips soft against your own. You lean into him, your hand reaching up to cup his jaw, and the kiss deepens. His fingers thread through your hair, careful not to pull the messy braid loose, and you tilt your head further to meet him. The angle is awkward, the position of him behind you and you below making it clumsy, but you don't want to stop.
When he finally pulls back, his face above yours by an inch, his breath is uneven.
"You’re so pretty that it hurts," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could handle a little pain, though."
"You don't look bad yourself." You chuckle softly, close your eyes and let yourself feel it ; the warmth of him, the pace of his heart against your back, the small certainty that this is exactly where you're supposed to be.
Now, the movie has ended, the credits scrolling silently across the screen. Silence remains in the living room. You've shifted positions, no longer on the floor but curled together on the couch, your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. His legs bracket yours, and your head rests in the crook of his neck, the warmth of him seeping through your t-shirt.
His lips find your temple first, light and sweet, a barely-there press of skin against skin. Then your cheek. Then the corner of your eye. Each kiss is soft, as he's memorizing the geography of your face. You feel the slight stubble on his jaw brush against you.
"Are you still going to kiss every inch of my face?" you murmur, your eyes closed.
"Every single one." He punctuates the words with another kiss, this one on the bridge of your nose. "I have a list. It's very thorough."
You laugh, tired and content, and his arms tighten around you. His lips trail down to your jaw, then your chin, then the spot just below your ear.
"Getting distracted?" you ask.
"Completely." Another kiss, this one on your neck. "This is your fault for being here."
"I didn't do anything."
"You’re existing right now, so deal with the consequences."
You tilt your head back, giving him more access, and he takes the invitation, his mouth trailing along the curve of your throat. His kisses are still gentle, almost reverent, but they linger a little longer now.
His fingers find your hand, lace through yours, squeeze once. You feel the weight of his lips on your shoulder, your collarbone, the soft skin just above the neckline of your hoodie. Then back up, retracing the path, pausing at your cheek again.
"You're very thorough," you manage, your voice dreamy.
"I told you. I'm a man of my word."
He presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth, soft and sweet, and then settles his chin on the top of your head, his arms still wrapped around you like he's afraid you'll disappear.
You don’t want to move. The afternoon light has shifted, growing gold, and the room feels suspended in a bubble of warmth and intimacy.
"Jake," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For today. For all of it."
He presses his lips to your hair, a silent reply, and you feel his smile against the strands. The last kiss lingers, right against your hair, and then you tilt your head up, catching his mouth with yours. It's not the upside-down kiss from before, this one is direct and utterly intentional, your lips finding his with unexpected certainty. He responds immediately, his hand cupping your jaw, angling you toward him.
You feel his other hand slide from your shoulder down your side, settling on your hip. You shift, twisting in his arms, and before you know it, you're turning to face him properly. Your knees find the cushion on either side of his thighs, and you settle into his lap, straddling him, your chest pressed against his.
His hands find your waist immediately, gripping you through the fabric of your t-shirt, his fingers splaying across the curve of your hips. He pulls you closer, and you feel the strong warmth of him beneath you, his breath hitches slightly as you settle your weight against him.
"You're going to make it hard to stop." he murmurs against your lips while he's smiling.
"That’s too bad." you whisper back, you could feel the vibration of his laugh.
─────────
It’s been an hour. You’re still straddling Jake, your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips as your mouths move together in a heated, urgent kiss. His lips are warm and demanding, although there’s a delicious clumsiness to the way he kisses you ; teeth grazing a little too eagerly, his tongue sliding against yours with more hunger than precision. He’s so turned on he can barely focus, and it shows in every shaky breath and muffled sound.
His large hands slide down your back and grip your ass firmly now, fingers digging into the soft flesh with possessive strength. He squeezes and fondles you without restraint, kneading your cheeks as he pulls you harder against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. A low throaty moan echoes from his chest into your mouth, raw and needy, sending a rush of heat straight through you.
He breaks the kiss for half a second to gasp for air, forehead lightly pressed to yours, before diving back in even sloppier than before ; lips wet, tongue eager, hands still greedily massaging and spreading your ass as he rocks you against him. His grip is tight enough to leave marks, but the way he groans your name between kisses makes it impossible to care.
You pull back to catch your breath, your hands resting on his chest as you look down at him with flushed cheeks. His eyes are veiled with want, lips slightly swollen from the messy kiss, and his hands are still firmly anchored to your ass, unwilling to let go.
“Sorry,” you whisper, voice a little shaky. “If I’m bad at this…it’s my first time doing any of it, really.”
Jake blinks up at you, his breath still ragged. For a moment his grip on your ass loosens slightly, but then he squeezes again, almost reassuringly. A soft surprised chuckle escapes him before he leans in and presses a gentler kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky and sincere. “I’ve never gotten past a kiss either. So…we’re both figuring this out.”
He pulls you closer again, one hand sliding up your back while the other stays possessively on your ass, and kisses you slower now ; still clumsy with need, still moaning softly into your mouth, but now with a shared nervousness that somehow makes everything feel even hotter.
You smile softly against his lips at his confession, a warm flutter of relief mixing with the heat in your belly. Boldness comes through you, you slide one hand down his chest, slowly tracing the ridges of his abs through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your fingertips press lightly, exploring the firm muscle beneath, and Jake’s entire body jolts under you.
He gasps sharply into your mouth, hips twitching upward as a shiver runs through him. He’s incredibly sensitive there ; every slow drag of your fingers makes his muscles tense and twitch. Another involuntary moan slips out of him, breathier than before.
“S-sorry,” he blurts out by reflex, cheeks burning as he pulls back just an inch, eyes half-lidded and embarrassed. His hands tighten on your ass again, almost like he’s grounding himself. “I’m just…really sensitive. Fuck, that feels good.”
He leans in quickly to kiss you again, clumsier now from the rush of sensation, his abs contracting under your exploring touch as he rocks you gently against him, clearly fighting the urge to apologize a second time.
You keep tracing his abs, feeling them flex and twitch under your fingertips, when his breathing grows even heavier. His hands squeeze your ass one last time before sliding up to your hips. He leans in close, lips brushing your ear as he whispers softly, voice rough with arousal.
“Take your panties off for me…please?”
The words send a fresh wave of heat through you. You hesitate, suddenly shy, cheeks burning as you bite your lip and glance away. Jake notices immediately. A small affectionate smirk tugs at his lips despite how flustered he is.
“What’s wrong?” he teases gently, voice playful, his fingers tracing slow circles on your hips. “Don’t get all shy on me now…I’m dying here.”
You swallow hard, heart racing, but the way he’s looking at you ; equal parts desperate and sweet ; makes you brave. Instead of taking them off completely, you reach the hem of your shorts and throw them next to the couch, hook your fingers into the side of your panties, and push the damp fabric aside, exposing yourself to him.
“You can touch me,” you whisper, voice barely audible.
Jake’s eyes widen slightly. He nods slowly, one hand sliding from your hip down between your bodies. His middle finger gently traces along your slick folds, testing, before he slowly pushes it inside you ; careful, inch by inch, watching your face the whole time to make sure it’s okay. His breath catches at how warm and wet you feel around his finger, and he lets out a shaky moan, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
“Fuck…is this alright?” he murmurs, voice trembling with restraint as he holds still, letting you adjust.
You let out a shaky breath, hips shifting slightly against his hand as his finger moves inside you.
“That feels good,” you whisper, voice breathy and honest. “Really good…”
Jake’s eyes light up with relief and hunger. Encouraged, he slowly pulls his middle finger back, then carefully pushes two fingers in this time ; his middle and ring finger ; stretching you more. He’s clumsy about it, his movements a little uncoordinated from how turned on he is, but the gentle pressure feels incredible as he works them deeper.
He starts to pump them slowly, trying to find a rhythm, when suddenly his breath hitches.
“Wait—” he says quickly, almost like he remembered something.
Before you can respond, he curls his fingers upward, searching. The moment he hits that sensitive spot inside you, a loud, involuntary moan escapes your lips, loud and needy. Your thighs tremble around him as pleasure jolts through your body.
His face flushes deeper, a proud but clumsy grin breaking across his face even as he keeps awkwardly pumping and curling his fingers, trying to do it again. His free hand grips your ass tightly for balance, his own breathing ragged and uneven while he watches you react, completely lost in how you sound and feel.
You’re still trembling from the sudden rush of pleasure when he slows his fingers, keeping them buried inside you. He looks up at you with those wide, needy eyes, his cheeks flushed and his breathing ragged.
“Tell me I’m doing good…” he whispers, voice deep and a little vulnerable as he searches your face. “Please?”
You cup his face gently in both hands, thumbs brushing over his warm cheeks. Leaning down, you kiss him softly, tenderly, your lips lingering against his for a long moment. When you pull back just enough to speak, you gaze softens.
“You’re being so good to me,” you murmur. “It feels really good, Jake…keep going.”
A relieved moan slips from him at your words. His eyes flutter half-closed, and he presses into your touch like he’s starving for the praise. His fingers start moving again ; still a little clumsy and eager ; pumping slowly in and out while curling every few strokes to hit that spot that make you squirm. His free hand squeezes your ass tighter, pulling you closer as he kisses you back, messy and grateful.
You keep kissing him, slow and sweet, when Jake suddenly pulls his fingers out of you with a wet sound that makes you both blush. He shifts underneath you, breathing hard, and hurriedly works open his jeans.
“I need to feel you more,” he mutters, voice thick with desperation.
He lifts his hips and shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. His cock springs out, hard and throbbing, already leaking at the tip. You barely get a look at it before he pulls you back down onto his lap, lining you up so your bare, soaked pussy presses directly against his length. You start moving again, grinding with your panties still pushed to the side. The hot, velvety shaft of his cock slides perfectly between your slick folds, the head bumping against your clit with every roll of your hips. Jake groans loudly, head falling back against the couch as his hands return to grip your ass, guiding you faster.
“Fuck…you feel so good,” he moans, clumsy and desperate. He’s getting impossibly harder beneath you, his dick twitching and throbbing with every grind. His hips jerk up to meet yours, uncoordinated and eager, making wet sounds every time your slick heat drags along his entire length.
He looks completely wrecked already ; lips parted, eyes hazy with desire, fingers digging into your ass as he rocks you harder against him, chasing more of that delicious friction. You keep grinding against him, the slick sounds growing louder as both of you get messier. Your panties are completely soaked, the fabric clinging wetly to your folds, and his boxers ; now bunched around his thighs ; are dark with your arousal too.
Jake lets out a frustrated groan and lifts you just enough to shove his boxers the rest of the way down his legs, kicking them off. He reaches into his pocket, tears open a condom with shaky hands, and rolls it on quickly, his cock twitching hard as he does. You move to slide your panties down, but he catches your wrists gently, stopping you.
“Wait—” he breathes, voice hoarse. His eyes drop to where your soaked panties are still pushed to the side, the pretty fabric framing your glistening pussy. “Don’t take them off. They’re too pretty on you like this…looks so fucking hot.”
He pulls you back down onto him, guiding the head of his cock to nudge against your entrance through the shifted fabric. His hands return to your ass, squeezing firmly as he looks up at you with doe, desperate eyes, clearly waiting for you to take the next step while his throbbing length presses impatiently against your heat.
You brace your hands on his shoulders and slowly sink down onto him, taking every inch of his cock inside your tight, soaked heat. The stretch is intense, making you gasp and pause halfway before you breathe through it and slide all the way down until your hips meet his. Jake’s head falls back with a deep, broken moan, his fingers digging hard into your ass.
But after a few seconds, the latex feels uncomfortable and distant. You lift yourself off him, quickly peel the condom away, and sink back down onto his bare cock before he can protest. The raw heat of him makes you both moan.
His eyes fly open in panic. “Wait—fuck—baby—” he stammers, hands gripping your waist tightly as his cock throbs hard inside you. His face is flushed with alarm even as pleasure clouds his expression.
You can’t help but laugh softly at his wide-eyed reaction, the sound breathy and fond. “It’s okay,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss him.
You start moving ; not bouncing, but grinding slowly in deep circles with him fully buried inside you. The pressure against that sensitive spot makes you whimper, but it completely wrecks Jake. He moans loudly, the sound raw and uncontrolled, his whole body tensing beneath you.
Suddenly, his hands clamp around your waist and he lifts you straight up, pulling out of you with a wet pop. You blink in confusion, hovering above him as his cock twitches angrily in the open air, slick with your juices.
“I was about to cum,” he pants, voice strained and embarrassed. “You’re too warm and tight…and I’m really sensitive right now. Fuck, I almost didn’t stop in time.”
He looks up at you, chest heaving, cheeks burning red as he tries to catch his breath, still holding you suspended above his lap.
You hover above him for a moment, still catching your breath, then bite your lip shyly and whisper, “It’s okay…if it happens and you cum inside me, I can take the morning after pill.”
Jake looks up at you, eyes glassy from the pleasure, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. He swallows hard, then nods, his hands gently squeezing your waist. “Okay…but I’ll still try to be careful,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to mess this up for you.”
You smile softly at his sweetness and slowly sink back down onto his bare cock, taking him all the way inside again with a soft gasp. Once he’s fully buried, you resume grinding on him in deep circles, your soaked pussy clenching around his thick length.
He groans loudly, his head tipping back for a second before he looks down to where your bodies are joined. His hands slide firmly onto your hips, fingers digging in as he starts guiding you harder against him. He pulls and pushes you in longer, more insistent grinds, forcing your clit to rub against the base of his cock with every roll.
Sloppy sounds fill the room as your soaked folds slide back and forth along his shaft. The harder he makes you grind, the louder the sounds get, your arousal coating him completely. Jake’s moans turn ragged and desirous, his abs flexing under your hands while he stares at the way your pretty panties, still pushed aside, frame your pussy taking every inch of him.
You keep grinding on him, the wet sounds growing filthier with every roll of your hips, when Jake suddenly sits up straighter. One of his hands slides up your back, pulling you closer as his mouth finds your neck.
He starts licking and kissing the sensitive skin there, sucking gently at first, then harder, while his hips snap upward. He shifts from letting you grind to actively pounding into you, thrusting deep and fast from below. Each rough stroke makes you whimper, your fingers clutching his shoulders as pleasure spikes through you.
“I’m sorry—” he whispers hotly against your neck, voice strained and weak between open-mouthed kisses. His thrusts grow erratic, sloppy, and frantic. “Fuck, I’m so sorry…I’m gonna cum inside you.”
His grip on your hips tightens almost painfully as he buries himself as deep as he can, moaning loudly into your neck while his cock throbs hard inside your tight heat. His body trembles beneath you, clearly fighting it for only a second longer before he loses control.
You cry out as the intense rhythm pushes you over the edge right along with him. Your orgasm crashes through you hard, walls clenching and fluttering wildly around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through your body. At the same moment, Jake groans deeply into your neck and starts cumming, pulsing hot and thick inside you with every thrust.
Still trembling and moaning from your climax, you gasp out quickly, “Finger me—please—”
You don’t need to tell him twice. He lifts you off his cock with a wet sound, lays you back on the couch, and slides two fingers deep into your dripping pussy. He keeps them buried inside you, pumping slowly and softly, curling them gently against that sensitive spot while his thumb rests lightly on your clit.
“Fuck—that’s it,” he whispers soothingly against your ear, voice gentle even as he’s still catching his breath. “You’re doing so good. Let it all out for me.”
His fingers move in slow strokes, drawing out every last pulse of your orgasm as he kisses your neck and jaw. “So pretty when you cum…keep squeezing around my fingers, baby. I’ve got you.”
He stays close, murmuring soft praises while his fingers continue their gentle rhythm inside your soaked heat, helping you ride through the aftershocks.
An hour later, you’re sprawled on the couch with your legs spread wide, one draped lazily over the armrest. Jake kneels between your thighs, his hands resting on your inner thighs to keep you open.
He starts with broad strokes of his tongue, licking up and down your slick pussy, tasting the mess you two made earlier. Then he dives in deeper, pressing his whole mouth against you and kissing your folds like he’s making out with them ; soft, wet, hungry kisses that make filthy sounds echo in the living room.
A deep moan escapes you as his tongue swirls around your clit.
Jake pulls back just enough to grin up at you, lips glistening. “Hey, you gotta be quiet,” he teases in a joking tone, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can’t hear the TV show if you’re moaning like that. Rude.”
You try to focus on the screen, but the pleasure is making you sleepy and relaxed. Your eyelids start to flutter, growing heavier as you sink deeper into the couch.
Without warning, Jake tightens his grip on your thighs and thrusts his tongue straight into your pussy, fucking you with it in deep, firm strokes. Your eyes snap open with a sharp gasp, hips twitching against his face as the sudden intensity jolts you awake.
He pulls back for a second, smirking. “There you go. Can’t have you falling asleep on me already,” he murmurs playfully, before diving right back in, tongue thrusting into you again while his nose nudges your clit.
His hands hold you firmly in place as he eats you out with renewed energy, clearly determined to keep you wide awake and moaning.
You can’t hold back anymore.
The steady thrust of Jake’s tongue inside you, combined with the way his nose keeps rubbing against your swollen clit, pushes you straight over the edge. Your second orgasm hits hard and fast. Your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out, back arching off the couch while waves of pleasure crash through you.
While you’re still cumming, he quickly pulls his tongue out and replaces it with two fingers, sliding them deep into your clenching pussy. He curls them gently against that sensitive spot, pumping them slowly and steadily to draw out your orgasm even longer.
“That’s it…cum on my fingers again, baby,” he murmurs against your thigh, voice low and husky as he watches you fall apart. “Fuck, you’re squeezing so tight.”
He keeps fingering you through every pulse and shudder, soft and deep, never rushing. His thumb moves up to circle your clit lazily, prolonging the pleasure until your moans turn into breathy whimpers and your body finally starts to relax.
Even then, he doesn’t pull his fingers out right away. He leaves them buried inside your warm, fluttering heat, gently stroking your walls while he kisses the inside of your thigh, looking up at you with a satisfied, slightly smug smile.
─────────
Both of you cuddling in his bed, and sleep finally gets to you. You're both tangled in his sheets, limbs intertwined, the warmth of his body a grounding presence against your back. His arm is draped over your waist, his breath slow and even against your neck, and you can feel the occasional press of his lips against your shoulder ; delicate, absent, as he's kissing you even in his sleep.
You should be content and you are content. Nevertheless, there's a dull ache beginning to throb behind your eyes, a persistent pressure that makes you wince when you shift against the pillow.
"Jake," you murmur, your voice rough. "I have a headache."
He stirs behind you, his arm tightening around your waist. "Mmm?"
"A headache. Do you have any painkillers?"
He blinks, his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Bathroom cabinet on the top shelf. There's a bottle."
You start to untangle yourself, but his arm holds you for a moment longer, pulling you back against him. "Don't go," he mumbles, his nose brushing your ear.
"I'll be right back." You press a kiss to his knuckles, and he loosens his grip.
You pad out of the bedroom, the cool air of the apartment raising goosebumps on your bare skin. You grab the shirt he'd left on the floor ; his shirt, the one he'd worn earlier ; and pull it over your head. It falls to your thighs, soft and worn, and you feel a small thrill at the intimacy of it.
The bathroom is as small as you could remember the last time you took a shower, the light harsh when you flick it on. You find the painkillers easily, shake two into your palm, and turn to get water.
You pause.
The drawer next to the sink is slightly open, just a crack, and something inside catches your eye. You don't know why you reach for it. Curiosity, maybe. The same instinct that made you want to see the photo frame by his bed.
You pull it open.
The drawer is filled with photographs ; loose, some curled at the edges, same as snapshots you'd find in a shoebox under a bed. But these aren't random. You recognize the faces.
Your face. And Jake's face.
Both of you, younger. His hair is different, shorter, but the smile is the same. Your hair is shorter too, your eyes brighter, and you're pressed together like you've known each other for years. In another, you're at a café, holding up coffee cups, laughing at something off-camera. In another, you're in a park, your head on his shoulder, his arm around you like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Your hands are shaking. You dig deeper, pulling out more photos. One with your parents. Your mother's arm around you, your father's hand on Jake's shoulder, and the four of you are smiling at the camera like a family.
Another with Jungwon. He's younger, his face rounder, and he's giving a thumbs-up while Jake ruffles his hair.
You drop the photos. They scatter across the floor, and you stumble back, your back hitting the bathroom wall.
This doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. You don't remember any of this. You've never seen these photos before in your life. But your face is there, your smile, your eyes. And Jake is there too, always beside you, he's always been part of the picture.
The memory loss. The three years.
You feel the world tilt beneath you, the edges of your vision going fuzzy. The photos on the floor stare up at you, silent and damning.
"Y/N?"
Jake's voice. He's at the doorway, his eyes still sleep-soft, and he's holding a glass of water. He takes one step into the bathroom, then stops. His gaze drops to the photos scattered around your feet.
The glass slips from his fingers. It shatters against the tile, water spreading in a river across the floor.
"Y/N," he says again, and his voice is different now, sounding afraid.
You look at him. At the face you've come to know over these past weeks. The face you've kissed, laughed with, let hold you. The face that has been hiding everything from you.
"You knew me?" you say, and your voice comes out flat, hollow. "You knew me before?"
He doesn't answer as the look on his face says it all.
"All this time," you continue, the words spilling out now, unstoppable. "You knew everything. You knew me. You knew me and you didn't say anything."
"I was going to tell you." His voice is low. "I was trying to find the right time. I didn't want to scare you—"
"Scare me?" A broken laugh escapes you. "I've been living in a fog for a year. I've been trying to piece together who I am, and you—you've been standing right there, holding all the pieces, and you didn't tell me."
The rain starts outside, a sudden downpour that hammers against the window. You don't remember putting on his clothes, but you're moving now, past him, through the apartment, toward the door. He calls your name without you turning back.
You barge into the hallway. The stairs are a blur beneath your feet. You burst out into the rain, and it hits you like a wall ; cold, merciless, soaking through the shirt, your hair and your skin.
You don't know where you're going, and you know you can't be near him, nor look at his face and see the truth you were too blind to notice.
The street is empty, the rain turning the pavement into a river. You walk, then run, your bare feet slapping against the wet ground, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind you, you hear a door slam. A voice calling your name, distant and helpless.
Your legs don’t seem to want to stop. Your bare feet slap against the wet pavement, each step sending shocks through your legs, but you don't stop. You actually can't stop because if you do, you'll have to think, and thinking means facing what you just saw.
Your fingers fumble with your phone, slick with rain, and you manage to pull up Jungwon's contact. It rings once, twice, three times, and then the automated voice cuts in. Voicemail. Full. You try again and it’s the same result.
"Come on," you mutter, your voice cracking. "Come on, pick up. Pick up—"
The phone slips from your grip, clattering onto the wet ground. You leave it behind and keep walking, your arms wrapped around yourself, the thin fabric of his shirt doing nothing to ward off the cold.
"Y/N."
His voice. Behind you. Closer than you expected.
You keep walking faster, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"Y/N, please—just stop—"
"I don't want to talk to you." Your voice is barely audible over the rain. "Go away."
"I can't do that." His footsteps are closer now. "I can't let you run out like this. It's not safe."
"You don't get to decide what's safe for me." You finally stop, spinning around to face him. He's there, a few meters away, soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving. He's stopped too, keeping his distance like you're a wild animal that might bolt.
"You don't get to decide anything," you continue, your voice rising. "You knew me. You knew me and you lied. Every single day, every single conversation—you looked at me and you knew exactly who I was, and you let me stumble around like an idiot trying to figure it out."
"I didn't lie—"
"Hiding the truth is lying." You're shaking now, from cold and anger. "You kept all of it from me. The photos, the memories—" You gesture wildly. "Everything. You let me think we were strangers." Your voice cracks. "You let me fall for you like you were someone new."
"I had to." His voice is raw. "I had to keep it from you. It was the only way—"
"The only way for what?" You're yelling now, the rain muffling the sound but not the anger. "The only way to protect yourself? The only way to make sure you didn't have to deal with the mess of my broken brain?"
He flinches like you've struck him. "No. That's not—"
"Then what? What the fuck is about?"
He's quiet for a long moment. The rain falls between you, heavy and cold, a curtain that separates you from him. When he speaks, his voice is quieter, barely above a whisper.
"Because I was scared."
You laugh, a hollow, broken sound. "Scared of what?"
"Of this." He gestures between the two of you. "Of you remembering and looking at me like you are right now. Like I'm a stranger. Like I'm someone who hurt you."
Your chest tightens. "God—Jake do you even care about me?"
"I fucking do." He takes a step closer, and then stops himself. "I loved you, Y/N. Before the accident. We were—" He runs a hand through his wet hair, his voice cracking. "We were together. For three freaking years. We lived together. We had a life."
You stare at him, the words hitting you like blows. "I don't remember."
"I’m aware of that." He's crying now, his tears mistook for rain drops. You can't tell. "I’m aware that you don't. And that's—that's the worst part. Because I've been standing here, watching you rebuild your life, and every time you looked at me like I was a stranger, it felt like losing you all over again."
"Why did you stay, then?" Your voice is barely a whisper. "Why didn't you just leave?"
"Because I made a promise." He meets your eyes. "A promise to your brother, to Jungwon. After the accident, when you couldn't remember anything—he came to me. He said that if I really loved you, I would stay away. That seeing me, remembering me, would confuse you. That it would hurt you more than it would help."
"So you just—walked away?"
"I tried. I moved to another city. I told myself it was for the best. But I couldn't." He stops, his voice breaking. "I couldn't stay away. When I heard you were coming back here, I told myself I wouldn't interfere and that I'd keep my distance. But then I saw you with that stupid umbrella, and—"
His words trail off, lost in the rain. You stand there, shivering, the weight of everything pressing down on you.
"I was scared," he continues, his voice still barely audible. "I was scared that if I told you, you'd run. That you'd look at me and feel nothing. That the person you were before—the person I loved—was gone forever, and I couldn't bear that. So I kept it to myself. I told myself I was protecting you. But really, I was protecting myself."
The silence stretches between you.
"You should have told me," you finally say, and your voice is weak, drained of emotion. "You should have trusted me to handle it."
"I know." He looks down at the ground. "I know. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just—" He stops, his shoulders shaking. "I just wanted to hold onto the part of you that was still mine. Even if you didn't know it."
Your chest is heaving again and you feel the tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. You're not sure when you started crying or maybe you've been crying this whole time.
"When?" Your voice cracks once again. "When did we—when did we first meet?"
He looks up, and you see the tears streaming down his face, indistinguishable from the rain. "Nineteen," he says, his voice raw and broken. "We were nineteen. You were wearing that oversized Bieber shirt, and you tripped over your own feet walking into that library, and I—" He pauses, a sob tearing from his throat. "I fell in love with you right there."
You feel the sob building in your chest, unstoppable and devastating. "I’m sorry."
"It’s okay." He's crying openly now, his shoulders shaking. "I—I needed you to know that you were loved. That you are loved. By me. Always."
Your legs give out. You don't realize it until you're sinking, your knees hitting the wet pavement, your hands bracing against the cold ground. The sobs are torn from you now, ugly and loud, your entire body shaking with the force of them.
He’s already moving. His feet splash against the wet ground, closing the distance between you in seconds. He drops to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you against his chest. His body shields you from the rain, his hands cradling the back of your head, pressing your face into the warmth of his neck.
"I'm sorry," he's saying, over and over, his voice broken and fragile. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
You feel his tears against your skin, his body shaking with the same sobs that are tearing through you. He holds you tighter, afraid you'll disappear, and you grip the wet fabric of his shirt, your fingers twisted in the material.
"I don't remember," you choke out. "I don't remember any of it."
"That's okay." His voice is a whisper, trembling. "That's okay. We can—we can start over. We can make new memories. Whatever you need. I'll give you whatever you need."
You pull back just enough to look at him. His face is streaked with rain and tears, his eyes red-rimmed, his expression open and completely unguarded.
You let him hold you, his arms wrapped around you like a shield against the world, and you feel something shift in your chest. The rain continues to fall, but you barely notice it anymore.
All you feel is him.
─────────
The next morning. You're sitting on the edge of the couch, your legs stretched out in front of you, the bruises on your knees a mottled purple from the fall the night before. The rain has stopped, but the world outside is still wet, the streets glistening under the gray sky.
Jake is kneeling in front of you, a small first-aid kit open on the floor beside him. His movements are gentle, careful, as he dabs at the scrapes with an antiseptic wipe. You flinch slightly at the sting, and he murmurs an apology, his fingers light against your skin.
"I could do it on my own." you say, your voice hoarse from crying.
"Let me do it for you. Please." He doesn't look up, his focus on the cut on your knee. "I should have done this last night, but you were—" He stops, swallowing. "You were upset. I didn't want to push."
You watch him as he works, the furrow of concentration between his brows, his lower lip catches between his teeth. His hands are steady despite everything, carefully smoothing the edges of a bandage over your skin.
"There," he says softly. "All done."
You're about to say something when the door slams open.
Jungwon stands in the doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. He's still in his clothes from yesterday, his hair disheveled, his phone clutched in his hand like a lifeline. He must have come straight from wherever he was, must have run the whole way. His gaze sweeps the room and takes in the two of you. Jake kneeling at your feet. The bandage on your knee. Your tear-streaked face. And mostly, the visible tension in the air.
He looks at Jake and at you while shifting his gaze between both of you.
"Fuck." he says, the word heavy, loaded with remorse.
Jake rises slowly to his feet. He stands there, his hands at his sides, his face blank.
"Jungwon," he starts, but Jungwon cuts him off.
"What the fuck, Jake." He steps into the room, the door swinging shut behind him. "I told you—I told you to stay away. I told you it would be better for her. And for everyone. And you—" He stops, his jaw tight. "You couldn't keep your promise for even a year?"
"It wasn't like that." Jake's voice is steady yet a tremor is present beneath it. "I didn't plan this. It just happened."
"It just happened?" Jungwon scoffs. "You see her in the hallway and suddenly all your promises mean nothing?"
"Jungwon—" you start, both of them turn to look at you, and the weight of their gazes makes the words die in your throat. Jungwon's expression softens slightly. "Are you okay?" he asks, the question is directed at you, not Jake.
You don't know how to answer that. Are you okay? You're sitting in the apartment of a man you've known for weeks, who apparently knew you for three years before that, who you still can't remember, who you cried in the rain with, who bandaged your knees this morning because he cares about you. And you can’t understand any of it.
"I don't know," you say honestly.
Jungwon runs a hand through his hair, exhales slowly. "I should have told you," he says with regret in his voice. "I should have told you about him. About everything. I thought I was protecting you, but I—" He pauses and shakes his head. "I made it worse."
"He knew," you say, voice flat. "He knew and he kept it from me. You both did."
Jake flinches and Jungwon looks away.
"I had to," Jake says quietly. "I had to see if you could remember on your own. If there was any part of you that still—" He swallows, the words caught in his throat. "I needed to know if you could love me without the memories."
Jungwon's head snaps toward him. "That's not why you did it."
"Isn't it?" Jake's voice is raw. "I wanted to believe that if I just gave you time, you'd remember, and I know that it sounds stupid. That you'd look at me and see all the years we had. But you didn't. You never did." He looks at you, his eyes glassy. "And I had to accept that the person I loved might never come back. But I still loved you anyway."
The silence in the room is suffocating. You look from Jake to Jungwon, the weight of their secrets pressing down on you, and you feel something crack inside your chest.
Jungwon is the one to break it. "I'm sorry," he says, the words are directed at both of you. "I was scared. I didn't want to lose you again, Y/N. And when I saw the two of you starting to know each other I panicked." He confesses, his composure cracking. "I just wanted to protect you and I failed. I failed both of you."
Jake stays silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
You take a breath. The air is thick, but you force yourself to speak.
"I don't remember him," you say, looking at Jungwon. "I don't remember any of it. But I—" You stop, your voice catching. "I know I felt something. Even when I didn't know who he was. That has to count for something, doesn't it?"
Jungwon meets your eyes. Then he nods, slowly.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "It does."
─────────
The afternoon has settled in, the earlier tension slowly unwinding like a knot being picked apart. Jungwon left an hour ago, his goodbye awkward but not hostile, a promise to call later that felt more like a question than a statement. You'd watched him go, the door clicking shut behind him, and then you'd turned to find Jake standing in the middle of the living room, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes uncertain.
Neither of you had spoken for a while. Then you'd walked to the kitchen, pulled out a cutting board and some vegetables, and started preparing something that might become dinner. He'd followed, hovering at the edge of the counter, until you'd handed him a knife and told him to chop the onions.
Now you're standing at the stove, stirring a pan of vegetables, while Jake sits on a stool behind you. His fingers are in your hair again, separating strands, twisting them together with a concentration that's become familiar over the past few days. The braid is better than yesterday ; still not perfect, but recognizable.
"You're getting better at this," you say, your voice quiet.
"I've had practice." An incredible softness in his voice. "Also, you're very patient. That helps."
You stir the vegetables, watching them sizzle and soften. The silence is comfortable, however, there's something sitting between you, a question you've been turning over in your mind since last night.
"Jake," you start, and you feel him pause, his fingers stilling in your hair. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
You keep your eyes on the pan. "Last night—was that our first time?"
You feel him go still behind you. His hands are frozen in your hair, and for a moment, you think you've overstepped. You feel his breath, a soft exhale, and his hands resume their work.
"Yes," he says, and his voice is careful. "That was our first time."
The words hang in the air. You nod slowly, processing. "So we never had sex…before the accident?"
He shakes his head, even though you can't see him. "We were close, and we lived together. But we never did those kind of things." He pauses, his fingers continuing to work through your hair. "We were waiting. I don't know what we were waiting for. The right moment, maybe." His voice drops. "I never really thought about it. I just knew I wanted it to be right."
You set down the spoon, turning to face him. He's watching you, his hands hovering where your hair falls against your shoulders. His eyes are searching, cautious.
"Jake," you say. "How long did you go without doing it?" You stop, not sure how to phrase it. "Without being with anyone?"
He understands. His jaw tightens, and he looks down at his hands. "It’s been a year. Since the accident." He meets your eyes again. "I couldn't. I tried to…talk to girls, once. It didn't feel right. I mean, I didn't feel right. I couldn't even hold someone's hand without feeling like I was betraying you."
You feel your breath catch. "Even when you didn't know if I'd ever remember?"
"Especially then." His voice honest. "It didn't matter if you remembered me or not. I remembered you. I knew what we had, and…I couldn't replace that. I really didn't want to."
You look at him, this man who's been carrying this weight for three years, who stayed loyal to a ghost he didn't know would ever come back. You look at his hands shaking slightly, his eyes are glassy.
"I didn't know," you say.
"How could you?"
You reach out, your hand finding his. He looks down at your fingers intertwined, and you feel the dull trembling in his grip.
"Thank you," you say, your voice almost a whisper. "For waiting. Even when you didn't have to."
He looks at you with vulnerability in his gaze. "I never really had a choice. It was always you. It's always been you."
You pull him closer, your arms wrapping around him, your face pressing into his shoulder. He holds you back, his arms tight around your waist, and you feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest.
The vegetables are still burning. You're still wrapped in his arms, your face pressed into his shoulder, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt. His hand is cradling the back of your head, his fingers gently threading through the braid he'd just finished.
He pulls back to look at you. His eyes are red-rimmed, his face still carrying the traces of the tears you'd both shed.
"I love you," he says.
The words are simple, unadorned. Only three words, spoken as they've been sitting on his tongue for years, waiting for the right moment to be released. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Your throat is tight, your chest aching with the pressure of everything you don't know how to say.
Noticing your silence, he leans in, his lips pressing against your forehead, lingering long enough for you to feel the slight shaking in his breath.
Then your cheek. The corner of your eye. The bridge of your nose. Each kiss is slow, like he's tracing the contours of your face with his mouth, memorizing every inch. His lips brush your temple, your jaw, the base of your neck.
"You don't have to say it back," he murmurs against your skin. "I just needed you to know."
You feel the tears pricking at your eyes again, yet they're not the same as before. "You've been carrying this for a year," you manage, your voice thick. "And you still—"
"Still love you." He presses another kiss to your cheek, then your other cheek, then the corner of your mouth. "Yes. I do. And I'll keep saying it until you're tired of hearing it."
"I won't get tired."
He pulls back, his eyes searching yours.
"That’s good for me." he says softly, the smile that tugs at his lips is small and tentative. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that have escaped down your cheeks. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and you feel the warmth of him surrounding you.
"Jake," you whisper.
"Yeah?"
"Stay with me. While I try to remember. While I figure this out." You swallow. "Don't leave again."
He doesn't hesitate once. "I won't."
His lips find yours, soft and gentle, and when he pulls back, he presses one last kiss to the tip of your nose.
You were ready to rebuild your life, with everything you’ve shared from now, with him.
When Mingyu woke up on his thirteenth birthday the first place he looked was on his wrist. And to his surprise right there it said: waffles.
He had furrowed his brows for a second before he laughed. There were a lot of different marks that contained words, what precisely his was, he wouldn’t know straight away.
Just as he was about to let his arm fall down to his side, he saw the letters disappear, only to be replaced by ‘ommelette’.
He had quickly grabbed a pillow next to him and buried his head in it as he screamed. He was so excited, but he also knew that this wasn’t going to be easy.
After a few days he had come to the conclusion that this had to be things that you craved at any given moment.
Despite it being difficult, and not really giving him any hint of who his other half were, it did still teach him a lot about you.
When he had met his brothers he had quickly realized that he would most likely be the last one to find his other half. Some of their marks made him thank fate itself for not having it, or curse it from sheer jealousy.
In the end it turned out that he had been right, that the nagging voice that had always told him he would be the last one, was in fact right.
He was happy for them all, loved his new found sister-in-law’s with his whole heart. But how long was it gonna take, how long was he forced to look at his brothers being happy, without experiencing it himself?
You had laughed when you had seen your mark, it was so silly, yet it made total sense, because you were and had always been a foodie. Your mark had also proven to be an indicator into where you could find him.
Because more days than not he was craving korean, which had meant you had quickly concluded that he had to be from there, one way or another.
Every now and then the cuisine changed, but only for a few days, and then he went back to his old ways.
Mingyu was currently drowning his sorrows in whiskey and beer with his best friend. It was something they did a little too often, but seen as they were both still alone they at least still had each other.
“I get why it’s frustrating,” Jungkook said as he slowly scrunched his nose in that bunny-like way he had always done.
Mingyu leaned back, his arm resting behind his head as he, not so subtly, flexed his muscles. An action that made his friend smile a little wider. They were similar that way, a muscle bunny and a muscle puppy. Both completely hopeless romantics.
“I look at them all every single day, Jungkookie, and there’s literally no escaping them,” Mingyu said.
Jungkook shook his head.
“It’s as if that first one makes everyone even more desperate” he drowned his glass, as Mingyu nodded along “I swear the rest of them weren’t like this before, now they all look for them everywhere they go… I blame Namjoon”
Mingyu had quickly picked up the bottle before Jungkook even had a chance to put his glass down at the table.
“I’m pretty impressed he was the first, usually feelings is a hard one - yours however should be easy enough”
Mingyu gently tapped his friend's chest, and Jungkook pulled down his t-shirt to reveal those three golden stars that sat there, cleverly hidden with all of his other tattoo’s.
A phone rang in the distance, and before he had a chance to reply he had stood up to answer it.
He heard Jungkook talk in the back of his mind, but his attention was on that damned tattoo of his.
It switched from the craving of wine to tequila, and Mingyu couldn’t help but chuckle.
This had started to happen as the two of you had gotten older, every now and then the food cravings would switch to alcohol.
You were very fond of Chardonnay from California and Sauvignon Blanc from anywhere, tequila was something that came every now and then, and was usually followed by very greasy food the next day.
A whistle from his friend broke him out of his daydreaming.
“How do you feel about a party?” He said with that one pierced brow raised, all the while mischief shone in Jungkook's eyes.
Mingyu had never turned one down, so why would he start now?
You had always had a feeling that your soulmate liked food, not only eating it, and something told you that he ate a lot. No, but also cooking it.
Because every now and then you would crave something only for him to crave the same a few days later.
You had always loved food, and as the world shut down in 2020 while you were stuck in Korea, that had meant taste testing all the food you could and posting about it - a decision that had led you to moving across the world as your social media suddenly had become your job.
It had opened doors and opportunities, it had introduced you to people that had ended up becoming a second family, and because of your other half's constant craving for korean, you hoped it would also lead you to him.
As per usual every one was at Jacksons. It was a mix of the singer's closest inner circle, influencers, his crew, others within the industry and even a few fans.
Mingyu did a quick round and said hello to all of those he knew, and before he knew it he was sitting on a couch with yet another glass of whiskey in hand all the while he looked out at the dancing crowd.
He didn’t know why, but he had always felt like he was home in noise and chaos. Maybe that was one of the reasons he had ended up in the industry.
He looked down at the tattoo and the switch between fries and beer, and couldn’t help but wonder which one of the two would win the fight. Food always won in the end, but sometimes alcohol would put up a good fight.
A hand ran through Mingyu’s hair and he quickly leaned back his head only to find Seungkwan and Chan there, both with a lady on their arm.
“Hey guys!” He said with a smile, as his eyes squinted a little, as the lights blinded him.
“Thought we might find the two of you here” Chan said as he raised his glass towards Jungkook who quickly raised his own back in greeting.
Mingyu smirked. “What brings you here?”
P just shrugged. “I don’t really know, just had a good feeling”
“And you know me, I’ve never turned down an opportunity of spinning my princess around the dancefloor” Chan gently kissed her temple as he pulled her closer to his side.
Mingyu just chuckled. “Come let’s get all of you something to drink”
You were sitting in a kitchen while you stared down a beer, trying to decide whether or not to go grab a cab and get food on your way home.
The night had been a lot of fun, Jackson was in a good mood which had meant extra shots for you, but it was getting late and you already knew you would be an absolute mess tomorrow.
You looked out towards the living room, and you had no idea why, but for some reason you hadn’t noticed the insane amount of flowers that had popped up everywhere.
That was the final nail in the coffin. You squeezed through the people until you ended up next to your best friend, gently kissing his cheek goodbye.
“You can’t leave already” He said as he gently took your hand. “You haven’t even met my most famous friends yet”
He gestured towards the tall tattooed and pierced man that stood next to him. Jeon Jungkook. You bowed politely.
“Sorry Wang, but I’ve started seeing flowers everywhere so I think it’s time for me to go”
Jackson chuckled. “Damn bro, I didn’t think you did edibles”
“I don’t” You shrugged as you looked towards Jungkook. “It was nice meeting you”
Then you turned and walked towards the elevator, not noticing the furrowed brows of the bunny.
Mingyu was in deep conversation with the two couples as Jungkook returned to the group.
He pointed behind him. “Dude, you told me to tell you, if someone ever saw flowers random places”
Mingyu looked up at his friend with a little shake of his head. “Nah don’t worry, it’s probably just because you’ve overheard one of these four talking”
It was his best friend's time to shake his head. “No, one of Jackson's friends just left, she said she saw flowers everywhere and needed to go”
Mingyu slowly rose from his seat and gently laid his hands on his friends shoulders. “Kook, where is she?”
“She was just about to take the elevator dow-”
He had taken off before he got to finish his sentence, behind him Mingyu heard cheers from his brothers.
And as he saw the elevator doors slowly close, he yelled out for you, hoping it would lead to you holding the door for him.
That of course didn’t happen, and for a second he cursed his friend for living so far up in the building.
But that was all he had, a second, then he sprinted out the door and down the stairs to hopefully catch up with you.
You had heard a man yell to please hold the door, but there was no way in hell that you wanted to share the elevator ride with a drunk dude that no doubt wanted to see if you were open minded for being with anyone except your soulmate.
So instead of holding the doors open, you had instead pushed the close button like an insane person, and luckily for you, it had worked.
You got down 13 floors before the elevator stopped once more to pick someone up, and as the doors opened, there stood a very tall, very wide man, completely out of breath. He didn’t speak, instead he just stood there, trying to catch his breath.
It was unusual for you to be kind to strangers, especially at places like this, and at this time at night, but something in the back of your mind told you he might actually need your help.
“Do you need a minute?” You asked quietly, almost as if your voice would disturb him.
His head shot up, and as his eyes met yours something inside of your chest settled.
“You love waffles in the mornings” he said as he took a step inside the elevator. “You like white wine on Fridays all year around, yet prefer red wine in the winter months. You have a serious obsession with this very specific lasagna, and you like chicken tenders and fries after a night like tonight”
As Mingyu spoke he stepped closer and closer to you, and every step of the way he was ready to distance himself from you if that was what you wanted. But he hoped it wasn’t, he really hoped it wasn’t.
“You love noodles, and sushi and birria tacos with out cilantro for your hangovers”
He smiled and it was gentle, loving. The tears had started somewhere around waffles, and it seemed like they had no intention of stopping.
When he got close enough all you did was lay your forehead against his broad chest.
You could hear his smile and slowly but surely, he raised his arms to embrace you.
He pulled you as close to him as humanly possible and you could feel how quickly his heart was beating beneath his white t-shirt.
The two of you stood like that until you finally hit the lobby of the building, as the doors opened he gently said:
“Do you want to go out and get food, or do you want me to make you something?” His head was gently laying on the top of your head and in the mirrors you could see how his cheeks were gently squeezed together.
You laughed a little.
And he pulled away to look at you. “You’re stunning”
You looked him up and down, as if he was one to talk, and despite his giant frame and objectively handsome face, he actually blushed and got flustered.
Oh how you already knew you would love to get to know this giant of a man that stood in front of you.
“I’m thinking we might as well go out to pick up something, I’m not sure you’ll be able to cook in your state”
He leaned his head back and smiled while gently rolling his eyes.
“You underestimate me, it’s one of my many talents”
You raised a brow. “Oh? What are some of your other talents?” You asked as he snaked his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side as the two of you walked out the elevator.
He let out a long breath. “I’m very good at rapping, some would even say singing, but I don’t know about that. Very good at lifting things. A good dancer…”
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What?” You asked with a gentle push of your hip.
“I’m very easy to tease it would seem”
That earned him a loud laugh, and he could’ve sworn it was the most amazing thing he had ever heard.
“We’ll see about that”
The two of you had gotten back to his apartment and had opened a bottle of champagne to both celebrate and wash down the food you had picked up along the way, and at some point in talking and catching up the two of you had fallen asleep on his couch.
You awoke to a bit of noise, and in the kitchen of the large apartment stood your other half.
He smiled gently. “Did you know you snore?” He asked as he pulled out a pan from one of the cupboards.
You walked over and jumped onto the island, before answering. “Yes, it’s especially bad when I drink”
His smile widened. “Good thing I’m a heavy sleeper then”
He quickly came over, and you moved your legs out the way to accommodate him.
Mingyu couldn’t help but bite his lower lip as he leaned his forehead against yours, his nose gently nuzzling against yours.
Before he could even ask, your arms had flung around his neck as you pulled him to you, as you pulled him in for a kiss.
He melted right then and there. It didn’t matter how long he had waited, he would wait forever if that meant ending up with you in the end.
His lips was soft, loving but with a hint of a smile that didn’t seem to want to go away. That however didn’t stop you quite the opposite.
You could’ve stayed like that, devoured him for hours on end.
Unfortunately, after a few minutes of kissing and heavy breathing, you heard his phone go off.
He pulled away gently, although all he wanted was to ravish you right then and there.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my brothers and their soulmates over for brunch. I’m the last one to find… well you. So they’re really excited, and wanted to meet you sooner rather than later”
He smiled and you felt how your cheeks heated up.
“You have brothers? How many?”
He chuckled, and raised a brow in a way that clearly meant trouble.
“I have 12” he said before pulling open the door, and then 24 people quickly rushed into the room, and absolute chaos erupted.
✦ as always; please comment, like, share, reblog all of that. It what's keeps me going and keeps me writing. My asks are always open for feedback or if you just wanna give me a little praise.
also, I can't fucking believe this is the end of this series! 148 pages, and 53k words... This is incredible! Thank you all so much for following along - but in case you don't know, I'm still not done - so please stay tuned for my BTS soulmate au, followed by.... well... We'll see won't we.
Apparently some people still need to hear this so: using an 'ai checker' is still using ai. If you are feeding someone's fic to one of these checkers, you will still not be sure their fic is ai because they are not 100% accurate, but you can be 100% sure that you are using ai. For fic. Furthermore you are doing the work of an ai scraper for them. You are, personally, feeding the machine. There is no actual excuse for using an ai checker on fanfic as a hobby. YOU are the problem.
If you think a fic is ai, mute it and move on. That's it. That's all you do.
i rly njoy not being afraid of bugs cuz a bigass beetle will b flying around th room scaring ppl and i’ll just grab it out of the air and toss it outside nd get looked at as some sort of deity for the rest of the day
once while i was buying pants a cockroach crawled over the register nd th manager started to flip out so i just reached over, grabbed it, nd yote it out th front door nd th lady str8 up gave me the pants for free
summary: when midnight marks the second year anniversary since damian's death, you make one desperate wish in the midst of your grief before falling asleep. when you wake, you find damian waiting in the apartment—as if he never left.
pairing: damian wayne x reader
content/warnings: angst, hurt-comfort, grief and loss, mentions of previous death, emotional reunion, yearning
Grief is a companion fond of making you dream.
"Beloved."
Damian stands before you in the kitchen, in his most-worn sweater, the one you swore you stuffed in the back of your shared closet when it had lost his scent.
The scent of toast, your favourite kind slathered with jam, lingers in the air and the familiarity of this sight—of him awake at an earlier hour to prepare you a simple breakfast, feels like a faraway dream.
You're struck by his voice, the tone and cadence your memory never managed to capture. You had to be dreaming still. Even when the edges of him are so life-like, not fuzzy like you're used to when you reach for the figment of him in your sleep.
He can't be standing in your kitchen, the one you used to share with him two years ago, because he is dead. Your Damian is dead.
You don't move, not immediately. You watch life breathe in and out of his chest, and feel the long, dragged seconds stretch between the distance, the pads of your fingers pressing into the cold slab of the counter, frozen in place.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t corner you, or raise some pointed remark on your distance. He only waits, as if that’s everything he’s willing to do. Damian has never been good at being patient, but in the wake of his appearance, it’s all he seems to be doing.
You're afraid. To speak, make a sound or move that could shatter the perfect image. You expect to turn your head just slightly off-angle, and find yourself in your sheets once more, and the life-like version of him will be gone. The ache of his absence still clung to you, even more so at the sight of him, like a sore wound you can't resist running over.
Your stomach grumbles lowly at the scent of breakfast, empty from a near sleepless night and a skipped dinner. At that, he finally shifts his gaze, and you find your breath stolen from the way that striking, unwavering green pierces through you.
“You’re starving.”
The prospect of a dream falls away, and reality strikes you hard when the stature of him remains, words falling out his mouth—something your dreams have never achieved. You don’t listen, coming up to him like a storm—hands trembling as you raise them to slowly, tenderly cup his face.
He lets you, unmoving as his gaze sinks deep into yours. Your fingers trace over his cheekbones, where that scar should be. The last you had saw of him, unmoving in the hospital—when the mere sight had rendered you immobile, shaking uncontrollably till someone had to drag you out the room. Your hands trail down his jawline, over his neck—your touch trembling over his unharmed skin. When your hand dips to where his heart should be, he captures your hand and guides it back to his face, fingers laying over yours as he presses it against his cheek, soaking in your warmth.
His own skin is barren of its expected, scorching warmth—and his lashes flutter once before his eyes fall shut, mesmerised.
"Damian." You gasp softly.
He shakes his head faintly, almost in warning not to question further. His gaze opens, and it pours over you openly, hungrily.
"Are you real?" Your whisper comes out as a broken plea, head tilting as you look at him. There are no inconsistencies, even the faint scar where a blade had passed through his palm when he was but a boy, the same raised skin you used to press your lips over in the solemnity of the night, wishing he never experienced a pain like that again.
An undercurrent ripples below his steady gaze, conveying an answer you can't uncover. "I am here, beloved."
"How?" Your voice tremors, teetering madness.
“You called.”
Your brows furrow together, the vagueness of his statement twisting your thoughts into a whirlwind. “No.. I called for you every single day. Since you've been gone.”
His expression fractures in your admission, that undercurrent in the dark green, sweeping you with its darkened shadows. You can’t read it. Not fully, failing to truly understand the depth of his gaze that reminds you that this isn’t a dream or a recreation of any normal morning from before. Damian has always looked at you with want and devotion, yes, but it has never seemed almost inhumane.
Your burning questions still linger on the precipice, torn between relief and despair, when Damian closes in. His lips capture yours almost desperately, and you realise instantly in your grief that you had forgotten this side to him. Rare, and smothered by self-control—but existing regardless, is his intensity.
The sound of his name between your lips is lost, muffled by the way his free hand manoeuvres the back of your head to bring you impossibly closer to him. It’s real, it has to be, this push-and-pull as if he can’t decide whether he could ever get enough of the taste of you.
You have held yourself together for two years—but you’re close to falling apart in the scent of him, so overwhelmingly home, something you’ve been trying to capture through his cologne bottles, his shirts—but nothing compares to the real thing.
He doesn’t fare much better, lost of all his composure as he consumes you. It’s devotion, the way he holds you like you’re the only anchor keeping him tethered to reality. “I am here.” His lips brush over the corner of your mouth, tremoring. “I’m home.”
"We need to tell your family." It's the first logical thought that's formed since you lost strength in your legs, landing on the tiles with your hand still grasped in his, knees pressing against one another. "I should be calling Dick."
His lips press together, something manic crossing his gaze but you don’t see it—too wrapped up in the novelty of a miracle that shouldn't exist. You needed to hear it, have it confirmed for you to your own face— that you weren’t the only one who sees Damian. Your steps quicken towards the entrance, hands reaching for your coat that has your phone right by the front door—tossed on the ground after stumbling home the night before.
Damian grabs you by the wrist right as your fingers brushed the fabric, tugging you back. Your widened gaze meets his own fervent expression. "Damian?"
"I can’t predict—” His hold falters, softening in its clutch. “—what happens when you walk through that door."
Your brows furrow, letting him pull you gently back towards him. Your free hand comes up to press gently against his cheek, caressing once. "What do you mean?"
His jaw clenches, a rare tension seizing his features. Or rather, one you didn't recognise on him at all. Fear.
"Earlier, I had tried the door." He explains slowly, as if the words pained him. "I had reached for the lock—and something changed. I wasn't here, or anywhere. It was silent and I didn't truly exist, not till I found myself back in the kitchen."
Your mouth dries at his words, lips parting with the low thud of anxious dread gnawing away at your gut. You had been so relieved, you hadn't even begun to name all the possibilities of this miracle having a short-end you haven't seen coming.
"Oh." You mutter, fingers fumbling loosely in the air as your hand drops to your side. "Okay. That's—"
Scary. So fucking terrifying that you can't even voice it out, the thought that he could just disappear as quickly as he reappeared back into your life.
"Maybe we can try?" Your voice lacks the confidence of someone who's willing to put the possibility of never seeing the only person she's ever loved again on the line. "If I go with you this time, it might—"
Might work. There is nothing you detest more than the what-ifs that overpower the old, a bitter habit that's sprung to life now that it has new fears to feed on.
He nods briskly at the suggestion, but the tension in his jaw doesn't fade. "Listen to me. If—"
"Damian, if what you're about to say is anything to do with disappearing or leaving—you're not allowed to say it." You cut him off.
His lips clamp together, gaze averting to the door. "I only aim for us both to be prepared."
Unlike last time. The insinuation lands coldly against your exposed skin, and you immediately move to tug the coat on to rid yourself of the forming goosebumps. You didn't want to be reminded of that first lonely night in the apartment, when the news hadn't yet settled in—and you were surrounded by bedsheets that were filled with his scent.
Call it human desperation, needing to believe in only the good outcomes—but you refuse to think further than the events that have occurred in the past twenty minutes. Damian is back, that is all that matters. The rest, you'll both figure it out together.
His hands immediately come up to the sleeves, helping you to put the coat on. The simple action renders you breathless, the way he was equipped to you like a shadow, tuning himself back into step with your own movements. You had forgotten that feeling, of puzzles pieces fitting perfectly together that it made life easy.
"I'm more than prepared." Your reassurance for him, or yourself—you’re not sure which bears more comfort. "Come on, Dami." The nickname rolls off like a soothing mantra, one normalcy laced within all the abnormality of the situation, of his presence lingering near your side like a shadow. "You better prepare yourself. You're about to experience intense familial affection."
It's easier to pretend, that anything other than a happy family reunion was bound to happen, to seal in the fact that he's really here. That's all your mind is leading towards, this impossibility existing on the morning of what should've been your second year anniversary.
His lips finally twitch, a soft smile gracing his lips as he takes your hand. It's warmer now, as if life was slowly bleeding back into him. It reassures you immensely, and your fingers tighten into a reassuring squeeze around his.
"How have—" He falters, grip tightening unintentionally over your fingers. "—they been?"
"It’s not been easy." You answer truthfully. "Bruce is taking it the hardest, his habit of burying himself in work has worsened. He needs you to snap him out of it the most, I think. Dick—he's trying to keep everyone together, but I worry for him even if he keeps pretending he's fine."
Your fingers twist the lock, opening the door. His hand still remains firmly in your grasp, and your eyes widen, gaze twisting to him in hope. "Still here." You murmur, waving your interlocked fingers with yours in his gaze.
You see it too, the faint relief that flickers in his expression. That's the very last thing you see.
The moment you take one step out the door into the threshold of the hallway, your raised hand comes up bare. The space where Damian used to occupy—is now empty.
"I swear he was here." You plead, watching as Dick paces around the apartment. "Damian was right here, and he was talking to me—and we were coming to see you."
He runs a hand over his locks, and you can tell he doesn't believe you, as much as he is trying to genuinely listen. You know it sounds cruel, going on about how his deceased baby brother is alive and well. That it makes you sound insane, overcome with grief enough to hallucinate Damian's existence—but you know that he was really here.
You aren't hallucinating, even if you had to push down any arising doubt as Dick finally stops in his tracks, turning to face you.
He looks exhausted. Packed with cases, wrinkled shirt haphazardly put on, bags under his eyes. Still charmingly Dick, but drained of the spark that used to brighten his gaze.
He calls out your name, and you hear it immediately. His deflection, his concern. You shake your head, but he raises a hand.
"You—" He swallows, and you see him assessing the right way to deliver his words. "—have been through a lot. I understand, I really do."
"Dick." Your voice comes out as a plea.
"But if you've been seeing Damian." He goes on. "I think it's time we find someone. For you to talk to."
He thinks you've gone crazy.
"Dick, I'm not crazy." You plead. "Or grieving. Damian was right here, I was telling him about you and Bruce. He made me toast."
His gaze switches to the uneaten plate, and softens into what could only be pity. You have to swallow back the bitter taste at the sight of it.
"It's your anniversary, right?" He asks.
You stiffen, before giving him a bare nod.
"I should've called." He sighs, placing the blame on himself. "I had remembered it being around this week, but work's just been so busy and—I'm sorry. I know it must've been difficult to go through this day alone."
"Please, Dick." You stand up from the couch, walking over to where he stood. "You have to believe me."
His expression tightens, a sigh leaving his lips. "I can't."
"Why?" You plead.
"Because if I do, I would've lost him twice." He admits honestly, a rare fracture of truth beneath his usual composure. "I can't let myself think that, because I have people who need me to be here, to be grounded."
You flinch, as if he struck you. His expression immediately crumbles in regret, but he doesn't take back his words. His lips part in an effort to try and smooth out the mess laid out in front of him, when his phone rings.
He curses inaudibly, tugging at his pockets to take out his phone. His gaze falls to the contact name, and his lashes narrow. He looks to you, an apology already splurging out of his lips. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. It's an emergency—but I will come visit right after."
You shake your head. There isn't a point if you didn’t have proof, and if he wasn't going to believe you, it'd do you both better if you didn’t dig into the wound so carelessly. "It's fine." Your throat squeezes tight on itself, making it hard to form your words coherently. "I'm sorry I called you all the way here, I know you've been busy."
"Hey." He calls out to you reassuringly, even as his ringtone vibrates lowly between the two of you. "I'm always here if you need me, you got that? Being busy doesn't mean I can't make time for you if you need a listening ear."
You nod stiffly, as convincingly as you could. "You should go, Dick. City needs you."
He stares at you, concern flooding his gaze once more. You smile weakly at him, pushing at his shoulder towards the door. "Go." You reassure him. "I'll text you if I need anything, okay?"
He nods once, lips pulling downward in consideration before his phone starts ringing again at a louder volume. He lets out a low sigh, hand coming up to squeeze yours over his shoulder in a comforting manner. "Anything, alright?" He murmurs.
You give him the barest nod, watching as he walked out the door, closing it behind him. The moment the door clicks shut, you find yourself on the kitchen floor.
Your sobs rack your body violently, your palms covering your mouth as you let it out. You don't know how long you spend, keeling over yourself as you rock back and forth, tears streaming down your cheeks before you eventually found yourself laying on the cool tiles, the only sensation that registers to your body.
You don't know how many minutes you spent going over the words shared between you and the Damian you swore was right in front of you, the scent of toast still lingering in the air before your eyes finally fall shut, body shutting down from exhaustion.
When you wake, you find yourself tucked in your sheets. You vaguely remember laying on the kitchen floor, not even having the energy required to drag yourself to your bedroom. The room is dark, which means the entire day has passed. Did Dick—or someone else come in through the door and carry you onto the bed?
You don't think you locked the door, but you don't trust in your memory to recall any recurring events in a faithful manner. Your gaze shifts from the window where the glow of the street lamp illuminates a warm tint over the streets, before your neck cranes to your right.
A shadow sits at the corner of the bed, back facing you.
Your heart nearly drops to your feet. Your call doesn't dare sound hopeful, almost frightened. "Damian?"
His head shifts, and green eyes, haunted by shadows—meet yours.
"Are you my imagination?" You whisper. "Am I dreaming again because if I am, this is just—” Cruel.
He doesn't answer, lifting himself off the corner to sit beside you instead. Slowly, his hand takes yours—and there it is again, that fading ebb-and-flow of warmth between his fingers.
"Talk to me." You say numbly. "Or I'll really think I'm going insane."
"I don't know—" His voice fills your ears, and the relief is almost sickening. "—how to fix this. Or make it easier to bear. I am only worsening your pain."
Your lip trembles, and you bite at it to keep something, anything from flooding out. "Do you know what day it is today?" You murmur, exhaustion plaguing your voice.
Damian doesn't even pause to think. "Our anniversary."
"Yeah." You smile wryly. "You missed it for the second time this year."
His fingers running over the beat of your pulse, freeze. The faintest whisper leaves his lips, and it is nothing short of broken. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. You’ll make it up to me, won’t you?" You swallow thickly, trying your best to keep it together. "I was going to take you to that Thai place we love down the street, after meeting your family. Thought it'd be a good welcome-back present of some sorts, y'know?"
He stays silent, but you spot the clench of his jaw, the thick lump forming at his throat.
"This is so sick." You laugh weakly, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. "What kind of reality is this?"
You hear the faint whisper of your name. His hand traces over your temple, brushing back the loosened strands. "I'm sorry." It comes out stronger this time, as if the vowels have finally found suit a place in his vocabulary.
"Stop apologising." You scold softly. "I want you here."
He understands your request immediately, scooting closer and falling into the sheets as his arms wrap around you. In the weight of his embrace, you finally let yourself fall apart a little, face buried into his chest and inhaling his comforting scent.
"Your heart.” You whisper, unable to sense the rhythmic beating you’re used to finding. “Where is it, Dami?”
“Where it’s always been.” He murmurs, arms pulling you impossibly closer.
There is a missing link, something you’re terrified of missing. He is real, as even your mind can’t conjure something as complex as the halftime beat of his thumb brushing against your lower back, or the way his fingers brush through the nape of your neck, finding your temple and resting over it with a soothing amount of pressure.
“You—” Your voice trembles, afraid to ask. “How is any of this possible?”
“I don’t know.” He answers honestly. “I only know that you called. I was finally able to answer.”
The rules settle quickly, the do’s and don’t’s of his existence. When you walk out the front door, he disappears, but not entirely. He merely reappears in the kitchen as he did the morning you found him, time operating as a frozen capsule within the walls of your apartment, with your current present tuned down to a low, buzzing hum—enough for his presence to stay. When you exit the apartment, it’s as if life comes flooding back in motion—roaring in its intensity that Damian simply vanishes. Not home, or anywhere. As reality intended.
You can’t have people enter the threshold of the apartment either, not without Damian completely disappearing from the rooms. Your only attempt had ended with Dick pleading with you to see a professional.
The conversation still lingers like a bitter aftertaste of stale coffee, when you let yourself imagine his exhausted, frantic expression when you searched the apartment upside-down in the hopes of letting him see his baby brother again.
You don’t call Dick over much after that, only the here-and-there messages that you've recovered and that you're doing better. You don’t mention Damian, and the texts tentatively recover into a semblance of the norm, his usual check-ups and quips before he disappears into his long list of responsibilities.
You adjust, creating something sacred out of the cruelty, and you make things work, to reduce the risks of his disappearance to only what was needed—for work, or quick supply runs that are now meant for two. You have to, because you’d rather have Damian with the shattered edges of reality falling in on you, than lose him forever.
Your head rests on his chest late in the night, updating him on the past twenty-four months of your life through your photo album while he watches you, trying to bring some of the outside world in for him. That’s one strange loophole, that so long as it’s only you who witnesses it, he doesn’t fade from existence. You had tried face-timing Tim once, and felt the sudden emptiness of Damian’s weight beside you. The tears were difficult to explain, as was the way you frantically ended the call after, refusing to show how shattered you felt.
Loopholes were small miracles, ones you were trying to exploit in the hopes the world would carry on without punishing either of you for testing the waters. That eventually, you’d find a way to right the mess.
But you know it’s not enough. How could it be? When paranoia runs so rampant, or the quiet lingers too long when you’re in a different room, and you can’t stop yourself from checking—from slamming yourself into the door to catch him staring at you, as if he expected your anxious movement minutes before.
Damian is nothing but a master at concealing his own doubts, from letting his frustrations plague your own wearing strength. It does not change the fact that he is still human. You find him mostly at your desk when he assumes you've finally fallen asleep, pen in hand with his hand running through his thick locks, growing out at the edges from not having been cut for weeks. You never see what he’s writing—not before he hears your quiet footsteps and gently folds the paper away.
He would reassure you silently, a warm, gentle touch over your face, cupping them in his hands and pressing soft kisses over your skin to replace your worries. He’d whisper ‘I’m real’ over and over again till you’re sure even your imagination couldn’t conjure the trace of his fingers down your lower back, the way his gaze softens when you finally let yourself fall into his embrace.
You don’t ask unless he’s willing to speak of it, because Damian in his own way is coping with this fractured reality, where you are only able to have each other in the confined walls of your home, without him being able to truly live in this world. You know it takes a toll on him, you’re just waiting for him to realise he doesn’t have to remain strong for the both of you.
You let him have the peace of doing what he feels he must, scribbling away in urgency into the paper, because for as much as Damian has lost normalcy in his life, you could only give him whatever he was able to still grasp.
“Hey, you! It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other!” Steph exclaims, pulling you into a hug.
“Missed you too, Steph.” You huff at the impact, a warm smile spreading across your lips.
“Where have you been?” She continues, pulling back to analyse your face with a scrutinising expression. “Woah—actually, you look great. Have you been skipping less dinners?”
Your lips part automatically, almost wanting to say Damian’s taken up the cooking. It falls shut immediately, along with your expression. Your voice is tender, testing your words carefully. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Good. I’m obliged as the wiser one to have nagging privileges since Dick isn’t here—no matter how busy life gets, you can’t skip what makes life worth living.”
“Chocolate chip pancakes?” You raise a brow.
“That too.” She grins. “But I’m really glad to see you. It’s been ages.”
Your heart tremors with guilt. Ever since Damian reappeared back in your life, you’ve been putting off so much. Life outside had begun to feel like an intrusion, a compulsory step before you made it home to where the miracle sparked, suspended in time. Even now, you’re terrified the one night you let your guard down, you might come back to an empty apartment. Where you’ll fall asleep and he won’t be there at the corner of the bed, waiting for you to bid him closer and being dragged into his embrace.
“It’s really good to see you.” Your voice softens, taking in the sight of her blond locks, her purple sweater, and the underlying relief in her expression.
Her smile brightens and her arm wraps around your shoulder, dragging you along. “Come on, I’ve got this new place I want to check out. Heard the owner’s a huge fan of Spoiler.”
“You’re not going to bargain deals with your merchandise, are you?”
She hums a sweet tune, head facing forward.
“Steph.” You snort.
“What—it’s a good strategy.” She shrugs. “Tell me it’s not genius.”
“It’s definitely classic you.”
“Yeah, classic me is a genius, same diff.” She grins, steps rushing slightly whenever she gets excited, particularly when it comes to food. The door bell jingles when you both step into the small bistro, the scent of honey and sugared powder filling your nose.
You can imagine Damian’s nose wrinkling at the overly sweet scent, but the thought doesn’t have time to stick before Steph’s already pulling you over to the corner seating, with a perfect view of Wayne Tower in the distance. Your gaze flickers to the tower, before drawing it back to Steph who’s looking over the menu.
“Damian would hate this place.” She says suddenly.
The tilt of your lip freezes, and she casts you a knowing look. “You thought it.” Steph murmurs, placing the menu down. “I know that look.”
Your lips part, mouth dry. “We don’t have to, Steph.”
“No, it’s okay. I don't want you feeling like it's a no-go zone with me.” She smiles gently. There’s that part of her you never stopped admiring, her bravery to speak for what others never dared to see. “I do actually miss making fun of him.”
He misses you too, you want to say. He misses you all.
“Sometimes, I wish he left something for us.” Steph murmurs, her smile lessening into something honest. “He was loud with his actions, and he could never resist an insult but—it just feels like I have nothing much to remind myself of him.”
You pause, her suggestion seeping into your bones. Your gaze widens imperceptibly, but she doesn’t notice.
“There’s Titus, of course.” She jokes wryly. “That beast always tackles me whenever I visit the manor. Guess I know where he got his manners from.”
You’re half-tuning out, because that could be it. Damian could write something so personal to each of them—so they’d at least he know he exists somehow. In this world.
“You’re right, Steph.” You mutter, lost in thought.
“Of course I am. Have you seen Titus recently?” She snorts. “Weighs a truck if he jumps you from the back.”
You shake your head, a fond smile tilting your lips upward. Maybe finally, you have a chance through this loophole, a way to bridge the unseen and the present. You may have a way to bring him back—past the walls of your home.
The nature of Damian is beginning to reform under his bones. The burn of his questions, how he goes silent when he formulates a plan, only without the hesitation he once held in the first few weeks on the prospect of breathing life into the abnormality of his existence.
“What was your wish?” Damian murmurs, gaze peering over you as you tumble into the sheets, feeling his arms slowly wrap around you, pulling you closer to his side of the bed. “I heard you call my name, but nothing of your request.”
“It was the same thing, always.” You recall faintly. “That I didn’t want to ever get used to coming home to our apartment alone. That I could see you again, and remember what life used to feel like with you.”
The specific details of your wish echo in your thoughts, your mind capturing onto the specificity of your words. You feel his mind register it faster than yours, but he doesn't form any accusations, not the way your own brain immediately pinpoints to.
“Is that why you can’t step a foot out of our home?” You realise, dread thumping patiently as it inches closer to guilt. “Why no one can see you except for me?”
He calls out your name, stopping you in your tracks. “It is not your fault.” He says before you’ve even voiced it out. “Do not carry on a burden that isn’t yours to bear.”
“What if—if that's the reason, would you stay?” You ask in the dark. “This doesn’t feel—”
Sustainable or fair or—horrible words pile on top of the other, right at the tip of your tongue. You feel the paranoia that traces along the edge of every conversation you have with him—like the waiting still hasn’t ended. That the world hasn’t quite let loose of its claws on either of you.
“For as long you want me, I’ll always be here.” Damian reassures you, hand lifting to press against your cheek, grounding you.
That’s impossible, you almost want to say. You’ll always want him.
“What about you?” You ask quietly. “You look tired, Dami.”
He stares at you for a beat, and you feel the gears in his mind turning. His under-eyes are clear of dark circles, his body shows no signs of exhaustion, although you know he hasn’t truly slept since his return. You feel it sometimes in your half-awake state, when he lets his guard down—and the trace of his fingers over your pulse.
“It is difficult to rest.” He answers honestly, a dry swallow in his throat. “It does not feel like living. There is no calling for survival, not when I am trapped in place. I am not whole—but the feeling fades when you are here.”
“I want to make things better for you.” You wish desperately.
His gaze softens at the edges. “You are.”
“I want to actually try something. I have an idea, I’m not sure if it’ll work or change anything.” You admit. “I know you’ve been writing every night. I was thinking—would you write letters? To your family? Steph mentioned that she’d like to have something to remember you by.”
His hold tightens over your shoulders, before forcing himself to relax.
“I just think—it might work.” You go on, fingers pressed softly against the expanse of his chest, right where the fabric bunches over your grip—where his heartbeat should be. “If they believe it too, I don’t know—it sounds silly.”
"Beloved.” He calls, his expression twisting in consideration. “I’ve… already written letters.”
Your lips part in astonishment. Has that been what he’s been doing this entire time? “Leave it to you to already have a plan.” You tease softly.
His lips quirk slightly, but there’s still that lingering solemnity in his gaze that’s never fully lifted. “I’ve written letters for you too.”
Your brows furrow. “Why—”
Looking into his eyes, you spot the knowing—the underlying preparation of a man not truly believing the cards are in his favour.
“No.” Pushing yourself away from the sheets, out of his embrace—you stare at him wordlessly, that familiar pounding beginning in your chest.
“Tell me you haven’t been writing goodbye letters, Damian.” You plead.
He only watches you, choosing to remain silent because—he could never lie to you. Not without you catching it in the twinge of his expression, the purse of his lips.
“No, I don’t want to think that—not when the impossible has already happened.” You shake your head. “I can’t handle a goodbye.”
“It is not a certainty.” He reminds you.
“I know but I have to believe.” Your voice breaks. “I believed every night, that somehow, you’d come back to me—and you did. So, I don’t want a goodbye, Damian.”
”I want you to live your life.” You admit in earnest. “Not to be sealed in here, waiting only for me. You are so great—you deserve the chance to be so much more. If there is even a possibility, I want you to fight—to get your life back.”
You are asking a difficult task, for Damian who doesn't put faith in what he can't predict without data or evidence. You see the argument, the calculation weighing in his mind but then he looks at you and—something in him gives. For all that he’s fought for, defying even the rules of the dead, half-whole in a world that once belonged to him as much as it does to you, he has never found the strength to say no to you.
“Alright.” He answers softly. “I will try.”
He has broken his promise only once in your entire lifetime of knowing each other, but tonight, you place your trust in him—that he’d keep this one.
The letters are a brilliant plan. It’s the most hopeful you’ve felt in weeks. Damian waits by the door, a safe two feet away from the threshold where he had last vanished through the hold of your fingers when you both attempted to cross.
“This will work.” You mutter, strapping on your boots.
Looking back to him, Damian’s already watching you, your favourite coat already over his forearm. He doesn’t make a comment, but when you lift your arms for him to put on the coat, as the sleeves loop through—he leans in and closes the distance.
He doesn’t loosen his hold, tugging you closer till you’re wrapped in his scent—and his lips crash into yours. It’s anything but soft, nothing withheld. It’s a promise—unspoken, and a Damian unraveled. Your free hand wraps instinctively around the nape of his neck, tugging softly at the dark waves that have grown past his usual desired length.
A low sound vibrates against his throat, the intensity of him burning through his skin. It is not a goodbye, you remind yourself, refusing to let anything wet prick at your eyes. You are going to fix this—and he was going to come home.
”I love you.” You gasp against his lips, mere seconds after he finally parts to let you have air.
His hand rises to cup your cheek, gaze focused over your features—before finally looking you straight in the eyes. “I am yours. Every part of me always.”
You swallow thickly. “Always.”
You want Damian. You want him in all the worst parts of him—the part of him that left and never came back, the part of him that immediately thought to make your favourite breakfast in the first instance of his return, the only person who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
“I’ll be right back.” You promise, grip tightening over the letters.
His gaze flickers with want, unease—a multitude of emotions so vulnerably human, and you understand. You’re the only who will. He lets you take a step back, and you can feel it even when you turn—that he never takes his eyes off of you.
It’s a reassuring weight—of course, till the letters disappear from the grip of your fingers the moment you step out the door. Time splits on itself when your heart drops—gaze snapping to your empty hand, proof of his existence written tirelessly in the thick stack of letters gone without a trace. When you spin back around to your apartment, the sight of Damian behind you disappears with it.
He's gone.
You don't move. Not for a few minutes, staring into the empty space where he once occupied. The door remains open, the buzzing roar of life beyond the threshold numbed to your senses. Eventually, when reality hits you right below your ribs, you do what was only inevitable. You break.
Damian reappears an hour past midnight, one of the longest instances he’s ever gone missing from the apartment. One of the days you truly needed him, you spent alone waiting. He finds you crumpled on the kitchen floor, hands empty—gaze staring blankly into the wall. The wall that holds memories, picture frames of your life with him—and your eyes peer soullessly into the distance.
You faintly register the stir of tension in the air, but you’re tired. Itching faintly for something to happen, the clock ticking down in your mind rendered useless. Your last solution has failed.
Damian stands in your kitchen as he did the first time, when it had all seemed like a dream, and you have nothing to say.
Damian eventually speaks, and it is nothing you want to hear. “We must cease this.”
Your head cranes, looking at him with defeat. Still, you shake your head weakly. You spot that familiar fire, lit in his gaze when his jaw clenches at your stubbornness.
Of course you recognise it. That fire you faced before he had gone out that door two years ago. Your biggest regret had been letting him go, not fighting harder. It’s just that—you’re so exhausted. You need time to think, to replan, to not feel like you’re on the verge of puking because you’re so afraid and you can’t do anything about it.
“There is no denying this. Every instance I reappear, I see your grief—and I am reminded that I am the cause of your suffering.” He says, low and pained. “That I have failed you, and even now, I chain you.”
“Damian, stop.” You plead, trying to shut it out.
“It is the truth.” He states numbly. “You are not living. For as long as I remain, you’ll be chained to the memory, and I have to watch you lose yourself because I am not able to let you go.”
“I have failed you.” He repeats. “But I will not be the reason that you do not live. For as long as I remain here, never truly whole, neither will you.”
“Don’t you understand?” You snap. “I haven’t been whole! Not since the day you died. You leaving won’t change that. Our reality—it isn’t ideal, and it’s terrifying that every time I open that door, I fear I won’t ever see you again, but I’ve lived more now than I have in these past two years.”
“You are still hurting.” His narrowed gaze assesses the trembling of your body, the dullness in your eyes. “Tell me it is enough. Having me here—a fracture of who I used to be.”
Your lips part, and your heart tremors with a painful ache. “I don’t care.” Your voice breaks. “As long as I have you, the pain is nothing compared to not having you at all.”
“But I do.” He pleads. “I refuse to be your chain. The reason your life is reduced to this. You told me that I deserved to be something more. Have you not considered that I want the same for you?”
“What do you want me to do, Damian?” Your voice croaks, exhausted. “What do you propose we do?”
“I want you—” His expression tightens. “—to rescind your wish.”
“No.” Stumbling in your step as you try and fail to rise from the tiles, he’s in front of you in seconds.
You push weakly at his grip that steadies you, anger churning something bitter in your gut that he’s so willing to throw away his promise—the only one you have left for him to keep.
He calls your name, pleading—urgent. "I think this is the end."
"No." You shake your head adamantly, tears soaking your cheeks. "Please."
"I love you." He murmurs. "I love you, and I do not expect your forgiveness."
"What about always?" You break. "Please, I can't lose you again. I can't—I imagined this life with you, Damian. I can't have you again, and lose you—please. Don't go."
His composure shatters the second those words leave you, regret sweeping his entire expression. "I have failed you."
You don't want to hear this. You want him to stay, and for this stupid wish to last—and for the universe to answer your desperate cries to not take him away.
"I love you." Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you clench tightly as if it could prevent the striking of the clock taking him away. "I can't love anybody else, it's only ever been you."
"I love you." He whispers in devotion, voice raw. "I have only ever seen you. It was always you."
Was. As if he's already seen the inevitability of his going.
"Damian." Your voice is scattered, torn between misplaced rage and desperation—but none of it holds true. "You promised me—that you'd never break your promises. Why?"
Why did he go out on that mission? Why did he not heed your words on waiting for back-up, for someone to be by his side? Why did he leave you alone in this damned apartment, waiting for his return only to open the door to Dick's blank expression battered, where he had to watch you fall in on yourself.
"You should've listened to me." Your fists dig into his chest. "You should've stayed home, with me. Instead of that stupid mission—and leaving me alone. You idiot."
"I know." He murmurs, letting you take it out on him. Even now, he was accommodating you—taking in all your anger even when you didn't want to leave it at this.
You're picking a fight, because you didn't want this to end. Whenever you got in an argument with Damian, he'd refuse to leave it till it was solved. Somewhere in your logic twisted by grief, you wondered if even his determination for your forgiveness would outweigh the cruelty of your wish.
"Fight, damnit—Damian, fight." You cry out, tears forming a puddle onto his shirt. "Don't leave it at this."
"Beloved." He whispers, gazing at you with so much love, it leaves you hollow.
"I wrote letters." He whispers, memorising you with intent. "As many as I could."
You faintly register his words, somewhere beneath the numbness your body is undergoing to process the heavy, sinking chain dragging at your heart.
"I know it's not enough, it never will be." He mutters. "But I wrote them to keep you company. To scream at me, to hate me—everything. What I never got to say, nothing is amiss."
A low, mocking huff leaves his lips not long after his words. "You can burn them if it reminds you of my failures, or if you wish to be part of the memory of me when it only serves you pain. But—"
He swallows, fingers tightening around you. "If you wish to hear my voice, to have me by your side—I am there. In those letters, you'll have me, always. My last thoughts, my wishes—they're all of you. They've always been about you."
“No, this can’t end.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”
“It will end eventually.” His voice lowers, attempting to soothe the cutting truth of his words. “It is my only mercy that I can face you this time, before I go.”
”Why does it have to end?” You mutter into the dark. “Isn’t this enough?”
“It is more than I’ll ever deserve.” He confesses, pressing his lips softly to the crown of your head.
Your words are lost on your tongue, a horrible taste of grief rendering you immobile as you collapse fully into his touch. He holds you, that same pressure over your temple, fingers brushing over the nape of your neck.
“Tell me.” Your body succumbs before your mind, eyes closing shut. “Everything. From the start. I want to hear it all. Please.”
His fingers linger over your temple, before brushing back loose strands of hair to tuck behind your ear. You feel it then, finally, the low thump right where his heart should be. Then, he starts, and you hear the story of how the two of you met from his eyes. You let yourself fall into step with his memory, the last you’ll ever hear of it. In the knowing of a goodbye, you focus on the slight tremor in his voice, the tight grip of his hand—and how his faint heart was finally beating now that you’ve given it back.
You find the stack of letters in the morning, kept neatly in your drawer—all addressed to different names. Father. Mother. Brown. Drake. Grayson. Todd. Duke. Cassandra. The list went on. Your own stack is separated, in a thick bundle that must’ve began from the first time you caught him writing.
The world was impossibly cruel yet fair, his letters remaining despite the impossibility, the scent of him still coating the paper. He is gone, and the existence of him remains.
Life is heightened back to its usual roar, the faint chaos of the streets beyond the walls of your apartment playing as if nothing had ever changed. The quiet greets you like an old friend, and there is no shuffling of the sheets when you wake, no toast at the counter.
Your fingers grip at the first letter, trembling as you open the first. You hear his voice immediately—and nothing prepares you for it, as if he sealed himself within the pages. You feel the warmth of his touch, the low candor of his voice, reading it to you.
"To my beloved.”
likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated! <333
so first off LOVED this—definitely hit me right in my feelings as a good hurt 😂
second, i read it before bed last night and it gave me the strangest dream of my OWN boyfriend (who, TMI, actually did die unexpectedly just under two years ago) coming back from the dead but rather than showing up in my house (that we did a lot of furnishing and decorating and fixing up together) he TEXTED me he was alive and that pissed off dream me more than him being dead
so naturally i tell my best friend about this fanfic and this dream and this was her response
okay i know, I KNOW that the “be not afraid of greatness” quote is Shakespeare and that She’s the Man is a modern day Twelfth Night but i will never not think of Channing Tatum when i hear that quote
☪︎ p. jongseong x reader
&&. non-idol au. boy bsf!jay. -> bf!jay. implied fem reader. (even more) downbad jay. est. relationship. suggestive humor. 9 ss. series masterlist.
all content is purely fictional !
EEK—i love him but i’m SO mad that i laughed so hard bc i was gonna comment “and you KNOW he treats mc riiiiiight” but then remembered that goddamn tiger post 😅
i wasn't gonna post this but after seeing the absurd amount of negativity on this app i think it needs to be said.
first and foremost: ai is never acceptable, and i do not support it (especially in the use of creative writing)
i had gotten an anon (which was probably just the account) asking me to share an account thats "spreading the word" of authors who use ai, but i was never gonna do that because frankly i didn't wanna get involved. a good majority of the asks on this account was people sending works from others that they think is ai. key word: THINK. no proof whatsoever. as of recently, this account has now deactivated (i think... i checked on tumblr guest and nothing showed up...)
that being said: i think it's important to not throw around accusations. as someone who was accused of using ai (in an academic setting to be specific) it can be very hurtful. ai takes inspiration from humans, so certain parts of works may sound like ai. on top of that, everybody has a different writing style. some may be description heavy, and others may be dialogue heavy.
on top of that, a lot of those "ai detection" websites are false. when i was accused, i had to point out discrepancies in those websites wording compared to literal reports alongside showing original work of mine (and writers from the 1800s) being pasted into an ai detector and it coming out as 90% ai.
this is not me defending people who use ai, because i heavily disagree with that. but ai work is super difficult to prove, so unless you have concrete evidence, i suggest holding back from making accusations. baseless accusations are making this community so much more unpleasant to be in.
second of all: this side of tumblr has been LITTERED with negativity for months now. every couple of weeks theres a new confessions account that spews hate for no reason. it is no surprise that two of my closest friends had to leave tumblr. i've been affected by it too, though not to the extent that some of my mutuals have been. there's no reason for all the negativity. we are writing fanfiction. if you don't like it, leave! it's as simple as that. don't be a bully (because that's what a lot of you are being) and as corny as it sounds, please just choose kindness.
ALSO ODYSSEUS LITERALLY JUST GOES TO TROY HE JUST GOESSSSSSSS they don’t even TRY to put baby telemachus in the paper shredder he just dips without a fuss. they change odysseus hanging the maids to penelope kicking melantho out for girlboss reasons and they TOOK AWAY MY BAG OF WIND #mybagofwind they also took away the dipshit that falls off of circe’s roof and dies. deeply shallow meaningless movie.
☼ pairing: jeonghan x reader, Vernon x reader, Minghao x reader, Mingyu x reader
☼ word count: 24k
☼ genre: fantasy au, friends to lovers au, soulmate au, royalty au, magic kingdom, found family, revenge plot
☼ trigger warnings: mental and physical abuse, torture, character death, murder, cutting, starving, nightmares, angst.
☼ note: I honesty can't believe it's finally done. It feels so surreal! This is my baby, it is one of the most time-consuming things I've ever written and also one of the things I'm moste proud of, so please, please, please, give me all the feedback, and reactions as you read the story. There is a few twists and turns here and there ;)
You ran through the woods as fast as your feet could carry you, as fast as anyone could being as fatigued as you were. The cuts on your feet from the branches and the stones didn’t matter, the tears that the thorns from the bushes left on your legs didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to safety. To get as far away as physically possible from that cave.
You had no idea how long it had been, how long you had been there. There was still no logic as to how you had escaped without anyone noticing. Had someone helped you, or had they just gotten sloppy after guarding you for so long? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you crossed the border.
Voices bounced from the large tree trunks and you ran straight for them, hoping, begging that these were friends and not foe.
A whine escaped your throat, but it was too dry to make a sound louder than a whisper. You felt your legs tremble beneath you and before you knew it you stumbled and fell to the ground. The speed you had been running with made sure that you rolled a few meters before the ground caught on and stilled you.
The crash was loud enough to grab the attention of those closest by. You tried getting up, tried to will your arms to lift you, at least just enough to sit and beg for mercy. But the shackles around your wrists bored into your already torn skin, and they made it impossible for you to do anything.
Tears streamed from your eyes as you sent a silent prayer to both the sun and the moon goddess, begging that these would be the right people to find you, that they would take you far far away from this wretched forest.
“Over here!” You heard a man yell. He was quickly followed by a dusin men and you heard at least half of them draw their swords, the other half pulled arrows from their quivers.
“She’s… she’s… Goddesses above, how is she still alive?” You heard one of them say as you once again tried to lift yourself from the ground.
“Help me…” You managed to whisper. The people around you yelled out orders, the exact nature of them was impossible for you to decipher as you went in and out of consciousness.
At some point you were wrapped in a warm cloak and lifted from the ground by a pair of strong arms. You did your best to cling to the warm body of the person who had saved you, soaking in the warmth he radiated.
How long had it been since you were warm? Some part of you wasn't sure you ever had been, it felt as if this cold that clung to your bones had been there always, as if the sun had never touched your skin. The sun. It felt more like a dream than a memory.
“I got you, rest now, you are safe with me” You heard a voice whisper in your ear, and then exhaustion finally took you.
It was dark when you finally opened your eyes. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room, as if the smallest flicker of light might wake you from the deep sleep you had been in.
You listened before you even dared to change your pace of breath, just as you had learned to do in the cave. Somewhere in the room someone wrenched a towel in a bowl of liquid, no doubt to either clean you or your wounds.
The door slowly opened and you forced your heart to beat in a steady pace since you didn’t want to alarm your new captors.
“How is she?” The voice that spoke was stoic, uninterested and deep.
You heard a sigh that reminded you more of a melody than anything else.
“Like the last time you asked, she’s alive. I’ve healed the last bit of frayed skin around her ankles and wrists. But the wound on her stomach, on her chest…” The man's voice trailed off as if he was imagining what had been done to you to make the scars.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Some of them healed so long ago. I can’t imagine how long they held her captive"
The healer's voice quivered. It was the voice of a soft soul, one who would take the burden of another’s pain, and let it move him to tears.
A rustle of metal was heard, and you shot from your place on the soft pillows in the bed. The metal was after all such a similar sound to those of the chains that had kept your hands and feet tied together. It was the only natural response of anyone in your position.
The man in the armor quickly pulled his sword, as if you, this frail and harmless woman could cause any of them any danger.
He protectively stepped in front of the healer. Both of the men were of similar build, although they had very different purposes. Where the soldiers, no, the captains, you realized as your eyes noticed the fine details in his uniform, slim figure was for speed and to make him a smaller target, the healers were from being crouched over books and people.
You threw yourself from the comforts of the bed, and when your newly weaved skin came into contact with the cold night's air you winced in pain. The nerves hadn’t regenerated yet it would seem. The broken shell you once had called a body hit the floor and you crawled to the nearest corner, you had no one to watch your back other than the walls, so they would have to do.
The healer stepped around the soldier and slowly pushed him out the door. “Captain you need to leave, I can’t have you traumatise her further” and as if he had hung the stars themselves in the sky, the captain nodded and left.
“I’ll let him know” was all he said before he slipped from the room.
The healer looked at you. He observed everything, from how your heart beat in your chest to how your pupils dilated to adjust to the moonlight. Every time you moved your body screamed in protest, and as much as you tried to keep the pain away, even with the adrenaline pumping through your body, you couldn’t help how your face twisted in pain.
“Shhh…” he said as he sat down on the foot of the bed. “You’re safe here”
You stared at him with horror in your eyes, and you could almost taste the pity and the sorrow that radiated from him.
For the first time since you had woken up you allowed yourself to look around the room. It was large, every window neatly decorated with shining and shooting stars. The interior was dark and silver, the walls were tall and the almost sheer white curtains were slightly blowing in the wind.
The air was crisp, fresh and clean. You sighed deeply, and felt how your heart sang from the lack of sand and dust that entered your lungs. A breath like that alone was almost enough to take your mind from the scars and the new skin that were no doubt scattered all around your body.
New skin. Skin that hadn’t been cut and pulled apart, skin that had never been touched. Skin that he, that they had never touched.
The sob forced its way up your throat, and before you had a chance to stop it the cries took over your whole being. There was no stopping it, and the healer at the foot of the bed didn’t even try to comfort you, instead he let you have your emotions, he let you feel them, he let you mourn.
For that you would always be thankful.
You couldn’t remember if you had crawled back into bed yourself, or if you had been carried when the sobs and cries had finally stopped, leaving you passed out once more.
It didn’t really matter, because when you woke up you were once again under the soft warm duvet.
Against one of the windows were a large armchair, black as the rest of the interior, and in it sat the healer, book in hand. He kept reading, but something told you that he knew you were watching, so instead of pretending otherwise, you sat up and rested your body against the headboard.
He shut the book before he looked at you. His eyes were both kind and understanding and his smile seemed genuine. It was a familiar smile.
“Are you hungry?” is all he asked before he stood from the chair to put the book away.
The other night hadn’t done him justice, he was slender yes but his shoulders and arms held muscles that were built by his craft. Grinding herbs and making potions usually had that effect on any man's shoulders, at least if he did it properly.
You nodded, afraid that your voice hadn’t yet recovered. As if he could read your mind he gestured towards the small table next to the bed where a glass and a decanter stood, both filled to the brim with water.
It was as if he had released a wild animal, because you threw yourself over it and started chucking it down without caring if you spilled down at yourself.
When you finally came up for air, you looked at him and he let out a quiet laugh. It was a surprising sound, one you didn’t expect from him.
He had long light hair, a stark contrast to all the black in the room, but he looked very stereotypical as the people from ‘The Moon Kingdom’.
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh. I can't imagine how long it has been since you had access to clean water”
You forced a smile. “It’s okay I can imagine I’m looking like some sort of wild beast” your voice was a little hoarse, but you were glad to discover you were able to get your point across at least.
You coughed a few times in the hopes that it would warm up your vocal cords. “What’s your name?”
The healer pulled a long braided piece of silk next to the door. “Minghao” he said before he took a few bottles and a tin can off a long table. Then he once again sat at the foot of the bed and laid them all out in front of you.
“These are for you. I’ve tried my best to modify my usual recipes for you, but if you feel any side effects come to me at once and we’ll try to fix them together. The tonics are for your internal injuries and mostly just to give you enough vitamins to make you strong as fast as possible. The ointment is for your scars, should you wish to fade them”
Your fingers caressed the new skin around your wrists. It felt like a crime to remove the memories your skin held, even if those memories were heartbreaking to even think of. They were a testament of survival and a reminder that you would one day get your revenge.
“Thank you” was all you got to say before it knocked on the door. A short man opened it shortly after. He moved slowly, as if he was used to being a caretaker of frightened animals. You were used to people tiptoeing around you, but normally it had been for a different reason, normally it had been from fear. But it was that exact fear that had led you to that cave.
You shook your head, desperate to get the memories out, and the short man seemed to stop, as if the ‘no’ was to him and not to your own mind.
“I can come back” he said as he looked at Minghao with large eyes. In his hands he held a tray with a few bowls and you finally allowed yourself to inhale, and the smell alone was enough to stop every other thought in your head.
Whatever the short man had cooked, it was the most divine thing you had smelt in what felt like years. Your eyes narrowed in on the large bowl and the delicious steam that came from it.
The small man laughed. “I took the liberty to prepare a few things, proteins and probiotics to hopefully give your energy and strength. It usually help the soldiers recover quickly, my hope is it will do the same for you”
He sat down the tray and a bowl of soup with various vegetables and sources of protein stood in the middle, on the sides there were everything from rice to different fermented vegetables and extra protein, should you feel the need to add extra.
You almost drooled as you took the chopsticks and the spoon into your hands. “My name is Woozi, I’m the head chef here and I’ve been tasked, like Minghao, to take care of you. If you’re hungry just pull the silk string by the door and I’ll bring food to you as quickly as possible, and if you have any requests, please let me know and I’ll do my best to accommodate you” He bowed slightly.
“Thank you” You said, but your eyes never left the food. The two men laughed. “Just dig in already, no need to hold back for our sake” Minghao said as he allowed himself to get comfortable on the bed in front of you.
So you did, and the taste was even better than you could’ve imagined. You moaned out in pure bliss as the first bit hit your tongue, and the cook let out a victorious gesture.
Then the two men watched over you as you ate every single bite and asked for seconds. When you had devoured your second plate you were so full that your stomach hurt, but you felt warm, and for some strange reason you felt safe.
Minghao had spent almost every waking moment by your side, and when you slept he did so too in the chair. And within two weeks it was clear to him that you had gained enough strength to stretch your legs beyond the room.
He saw how you looked to the windows whenever the sun shined through them. How your eyes closed automatically as you seemed to bathe in the sunlight, as you seemed to drink every ray with a need he had only ever read about.
The behavior was common in itself, but here the people usually did it with the moonlight instead of the sunbeams. And due to the placement of the castle and the land, the sunlight was sparse.
“How about we take a walk in the gardens around noone?” He asked one morning as you sipped your tea while reading a book.
You perked up at that. “I’m allowed to go out?” You said and it almost broke his heart how you tried not to seem too eager.
For a moment he had forgotten that you had been a captive, that you hadn’t had any privileges before coming here, so the mere request of leaving your room had never occurred to you.
“You are allowed to go wherever you please” He said as he searched for your eyes. You desperately tried to avoid his.
“I would love to… I miss the sun” You finally looked up and tears welled in your eyes. You missed the feeling of being warmed from the outside and into your very core, missed how your heart drank up the light that rightfully belonged to you and you alone.
It was your power, it was your legacy, your birthright and your one true love. One that had been the reason for all of this, for the scars, the hurt and the heartbreak you had faced. The sun was everything to your people, but you, you had a relationship to the sun and its warmth that were uncommon. It was special, sacred.
Minghao slowly reached out with one hand and then he laid it on top of yours. You didn’t know how long it had been since someone had touched you.
The tears started before you had a chance to stop them, and he opened his arms to you and for once you didn’t overthink anything, instead you crawled to him and allowed once again the healer to take away your pain. Only this time it was a different kind than the physical one.
You missed your home, you missed your family, your brother. They were all so far from you, and who knew if you would ever see any of them again.
Minghao only held you, he didn’t ask questions, he only comforted that breaking heart in your chest.
After a while of crying in his arms, he had helped you look presentable, and for once you stepped out of your nightgown and instead wore one worthy of a queen. The silk was soft and hugged every bone on your body, caressed every scar. Because the curves that had once been on your body were gone.
Minghao didn’t say anything, he didn't wince and he didn’t comment on it, he was just there as silent support. In that moment it meant everything. The man before you wasn’t cruel, you had known from the moment you saw him, that he would never be.
The two of you had laughed as he fixed both your hair, and as he tried to make your eyes appear a little less red.
You had clinged to his arm when you had finally left the room, it had both been for support, since it had been a while since your legs had moved around that much, but also because everything in this new place scared you a little.
The palace was huge and soldiers that were lining all the hallways you passed down on were a constant reminder of what had led you to this moment. You had to keep reminding yourself that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they were here for protection, yet you couldn’t help but feel unease.
You grabbed on to Minghao’s sleeve a little tighter, and he laid his hands on yours to calm your nerves a little. He was a good man to have by one’s side. He told you everything there was to know about the palace, about its people.
“The surrounding city is beautiful, at some point I will have to show it to you” He said as he helped you down a flight of stairs. At the bottom a soldier opened the door, and there laid the garden.
It felt as if a phantom hand of pure sunlight gripped onto that little heart of yours, it felt like you could breathe again. The smell was that of flowers and vegetables, most likely from one of Woozi’s many gardens close to the kitchen.
Minghao smiled at you, and you bit your lip to not cry once more. It reminded you of the place you had always called home.
Not far away was a stream, and you had to restrain your mind to not run to it and slip beneath the no doubt cold water.
“It’s beautiful” you said as he led you over a small decorated bridge to the other side of the stream. There he found a bench, one one a small hill, one in the perfect center of the garden. The spot in the garden that would get the most sunlight.
Your hand explored the wood and the small carvings in it. It was those of both suns and stars, not the typical patterns of the night sky alone. In the middle of the back of the bench were a sun and a moon. Intertwined in one another, almost embracing.
A smile painted your lips.
“Do you like it?” Minghao asked curiously. Instead of answering with words you just nodded. Afraid that your voice would once again fail you. It was perfect.
“Good, now… You stay here and I’ll go fetch us some tea” he stepped away from you looking back at you once to make sure you didn’t panic. In the weeks you had been there, he had never left you alone.
All he found was you sitting on the bench, eyes closed, looking toward the sun. It was as if the Sungoddess herself had missed you, because as you turned your palms letting them face upwards the few clouds disappeared, and the sun itself almost seemed to shine brighter, as if it welcomed you.
You had no idea how long you sat there, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until you heard someone approaching. The steps he made seemed both curious and afraid all at once, as if you were prey he was afraid of scaring away. It seemed to be something the men in this kingdom had in common.
You opened your eyes and turned towards the sound, and there stood a man, more beautiful than any you had ever seen. He looked like a god himself, silvery hair flowing softly in the breeze, skin that looked pale and almost cold to the touch. His features were delicate, as if he had been sculpted from moonlight, one night centuries ago.
He sent a calm smile your way, and for some reason you couldn’t help but return it. He was familiar somehow. He was angelic in the way he moved towards you. He was, for lack of a better word, an otherworldly beauty that no doubt enchanted anyone he met.
“I’m glad to see you’re out of your quarters” He said as he came to halt not far away from the bench, almost as if he was testing the waters.
“I’m sorry sir, but have we met?” You asked. He drew you in and you couldn't help but turn your body towards him. It was as if fate itself were telling you that he held all the answers you had ever been looking for.
He smiled, and it made your heart beat faster in your chest.
“I was there that day. When they, when we, found you” he said and he almost hesitated to step closer. Yet he took one.
It wasn’t on purpose but you recoiled and moved further away from him, leaving a space next to you on the wooden seat. He, unlike what you had expected, never stepped closer.
“I'm sorry” You said as you looked towards your hands. At some point they had started shaking.
“Don’t be. Your reaction is understandable given everything you have been through” You looked up at him, and there was pain in his eyes. Almost as if he knew exactly what you had been through.
You didn’t say anything, and the silence lingered in the air.
“Is everything to your liking?” He asked after a little while. His feet moved a little closer, yet he never really took an actual step.
“It is” it was a short reply, one that didn’t invite him closer, one that would make any normal man turn around. But for some reason he stayed.
“Is Minghao good to you?” he asked, and by the mere mention of your new friend's name you perked up.
A sigh left your chest. “He is” and then you smiled. It wasn’t on purpose, in fact you tried to hold it back. But the reality was that Minghao was the only friend you had in this place, and even though you knew that he had been tasked with taking care of you, you kept trying to convince yourself that he in fact was a true friend.
“He feels familiar somehow…” and that was the truth, he did. At that the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, as if it agreed with you.
You sighed at the warmth that spread through your body, and when you looked back at the man, he smiled at you. As if it had been your task in a previous life to hang both sun and moon in its place in the sky.
“He’s a good man. Loved by everyone he meets” he said.
It wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but pick up on that.
“The two of you know each other?" He had, despite his sudden arrival, managed to peak your interest.
He laughed, and it was a louder sound than you had anticipated, yet it was the sound only angels seemed to be able to make.
“Yes, the two of us go way back. We grew up together”
Your smile widened at that. “So you must have stories then?” your head crooked to the side, and your eyes betrayed you, as the mischief shined through.
“I do” the man hesitated and took a deep breath. “Do you mind if I join you?”
It wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but look past him to where Mingaho had disappeared to, and it made him look back over his shoulder.
“He’ll be back soon, that much I can promise you”
At that you only nodded and moved a little further to the side, making room for him.
As soon as he sat beside you that familiar warmth you had felt previously seemed to seep into your bones. It wasn’t all consuming, but it was stronger than the one that Minghao seemed to radiate.
You whipped your head towards him. “It was you!” It wasn’t a question, but more a statement. “It was you who held me”
He seemed to release a breath at that. “Yes, it was”
He was the one who had lifted you from the ground, the one who had held you in his arms and carried you away from the woods.
You looked at your hands as you intertwined them with one another. “I remember your warmth”
He turned his body towards you, and for a second it seemed like he almost feared he had reacted that way. Yet he kept his body turned towards you.
“I think you might be one of the first people ever to describe me as warm”
A chuckle left you then. The sound was almost strange to your own ears. Had it really been so long since someone had made you laugh?
“You are though. You are warmer than most of the people here”
“You would know,” he said, as he made a gesture towards the sun.
And if anyone would, it would be you.
You had been raised in The Sun Kingdom. You were raised beneath the blazing sun, it was what fueled your magic, it was what your very soul craved. Warmth and light was what gave you power. And that power was strange in this land, it was foreign, it was hated.
“I’m sorry” you managed to say with a small voice.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw how his face instantly conveyed his emotions. It was nothing short of pure regret.
“No… No! That’s not what I meant” He leaned forward as he rested his elbows on his knees, trying his best to catch your eyes.
“It’s just that your magic is foreign. I’ve never experienced it, a light wielder like you” You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but he stretched out a palm towards you. Almost as if even the thought of your rejection made him reach out for you.
You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m a lightwielder anymore” you said as you looked straight towards the sun. It was an act that would blind the likes of him, but for you it was second nature. The sun was afterall the goddess that had given you power.
He moved a little closer. “You are…” his voice dripped in what felt like hope. “Minghao said it himself. He could feel it beneath your skin, he could feel it in your scars. As if light itself was what kept your injuries from taking your life”
You looked at him, you finally met his eyes at that. And they were the night sky come to life. They were darkness incarnate.
There was no telling how long you sat there, staring at one another, but at some point someone cleared their throat.
The action was all it took for the two of you to divert your eyes in a somewhat indiscreet manner.
And there stood Minghao, next to the captain that had been in your room a few weeks ago, tea tray in hand.
“I don’t hope we’re interrupting your majesty,” Minghao said as he raised a brow at the man.
Majesty.
You felt your cheek blush instantly as you looked at him, at the king, with wide eyes.
“Your Majesty? I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know” You tried standing up to bow to him, but he only raised a hand and that alone was enough to keep you in your place.
“To you, I’m Jeonghan. You are not a subject of mine, and although I appreciate the formalities, I think I could need a little light in my life. Something, someone, who could humble me. And I don’t know why, but I think that someone might be you”
And with that he rose from his seat.
“I won’t take anymore of your time. But I do hope to see you again, perhaps, same place and time tomorrow?”
He held out his hand to you, and although every bone in your body told you not to take it, you still did. He gave it a little squeeze and with that he went with the captain, leaving you and Minghao with your tea.
“What just happened?” The healer said as the two of you watched the two men walk away.
“I have no idea” and you really didn’t, because this had never been a part of the plan.
The following day Minghao once again led you to the garden, and the king, Jeonghan, was already sitting at the bench in the sunlight.
He rose from the seat as he saw the two of you approaching. Standing next to him was the captain. And this time you had a chance to really study him.
His eyes were hidden in a shadow from the helmet he wore as a part of the uniform, yet they seemed to hold some sort of familiarity despite the fact that they were lacking all life, they were lacking warmth.
Your brows furrowed as you studied the rest of the captain's face. His lips were slim, pressed in a straight line, and he stood as still as a statue. He was familiar, in a way that would make it hard to describe if anyone asked.
When you turned your attention to Jeonghan, he smiled brighter. It was contagious and you returned it, even though you had promised yourself that you would do your best to keep that heart of yours on a tight leash. To not daydream, but to be realistic.
“I’m glad that you came” he said as he took a few steps towards as you neared the little spot he had no doubt made for you in the garden.
Minghao pushed you towards his king with a gentle hand on the small of your back, slowly backing away to give the two of you some privacy.
Jeonghan sent him a grateful nod that the healer returned.
“I wanted you to meet my captain of my guard and armies” Jeonghan said as he gestured towards the man that you had just studied. “This is Vernon”
Vernon bowed shallowly at you, and those eyes of his never left you. He scanned you from top to bottom. Almost as if he was determining if you in any way were a threat to his king.
You returned his bow. “Good day Vernon”
His eyes flickered, as if the sound of you saying his name was enough to wake him from a trance. His lips parted slightly, an action that most would’ve never noticed. But you did. The two of you stood there, looking into each other's very souls.
Then he turned towards Jeonghan and gave him a deep bow, all before leaving the two of you alone as he joined Minghao.
Jeonghan gestured towards the bench, and as much as you wanted to turn around to study the captain further, you didn’t.
You sat down next to Jeonghan, and as your eyes locked to his, it was as if the whole world disappeared.
“I’m glad you decided to meet me today. I will admit I wasn’t sure if you would show up”
A little chuckle slipped out. “You are the king Jeonghan, would I have a choice?”
His smile fated at that. “With me, in my kingdom, you will always have a choice. I want you to be free here. Free to choose and do whatever it is that your heart desires. Even if that means not spending time with me”
“Well if that is the case” you stood, and you could see the disappointment on his face, almost as if you had caught him so off guard that he forgot to manage them.
You stretched out your hand towards him. “I would like for you to show me the rest of the garden”
The man perked up at that and quickly stood up beside you, extending his arm so you could grab on to it, just as you still did with Minghao.
The two of you walked around until the sun disappeared beneath the mountain tops and made the shadows long and dark. The darkness had a way of triggering you usually. It had been impossible to sleep in it after you had been rescued, yet when you were with him, it was almost as if they pulled back, as if to not disturb you.
“How do you like it here?” He asked as the two of you had sat down on one of the vegetable beds in Woozi’s garden.
“I love it here” You said as you looked towards the trees and bushes that stood tall and green close by.
“Everything is so lively, so fresh. The air is lighter and not as heavy as what I was used to back home”
“Do you want to tell me about your home?” He asked as he interlaced his fingers. His eyes watched you, scanned you for any sign of discomfort, and when he didn’t find any his brows seemed to relax.
You sighed gently. “I don’t know if there’s much to tell, it all seems so far away, as if it happened lifetimes ago”
Jeonghan didn’t speak, he just sat there, and it was a silent comfort. As if he was there as support in case you needed it. You didn’t know why, if it was the comforts of this palace, that it was because it seems to have happened so long ago, or if it was because he had asked, but you decided to share.
“I was raised outside of the walls of the castle, which wasn’t the custom of the nobility, but my father liked the feeling of not being cooped up. He also didn’t like the scheming and the manipulation that were everyday for those who lived in the castle. So he had built my mother a farm, one where she could have her horses and enjoy the space and fresh air. One where she could grow her vegetables”
You looked around at the garden beds and felt how you almost choked up by the reminder of her, of them. You hoped that they were safe, that they were okay. You pulled your legs a little closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees as you looked towards the king.
“We loved it there, it was home you know” you shrugged. “My brother used to tease me that some nobleman had to whisk me away from there, because if I had to be the one tending to the vegetables and making all of us dinner, if I was left in charge, then we would starve”
A little laugh escaped your throat, and Jeonghan joined you. “Not good at tending to things?” He asked in an almost teasing manner.
Your eyes found his and you saw the sparkle of mischief that shone there. You smiled at him, a wide genuine smile. It seemed like it had been years since you had smiled like that.
You shook your head no, and stayed silent after that. Your eyes jumped from the vegetables, to the trees and to the dark night sky.
“Where did you mind go just now?” he asked as he dared to move a little closer to you.
You took a deep breath. “I miss him”. Your breath shook when you released it.
Jeonghan smiled. “I’m sure you’ll see him again some day. Maybe we can figure out a way, to get your family here”
Another shake of your head. He let you sit there in silence, he didn’t pressure you, he didn’t push you to tell him, even if you could feel his curiosity.
“They took him fist” it was the only four words you could manage to get out. Jeonghan stiffened, as if he knew exactly what you were referring to. You hid your face in your hands which led to him, almost automatically, eliminating all space that was between the two of you.
“And when they didn’t get what they needed from him, that was when they came for you” he said silently, as if he already knew your story.
You raised your head and looked straight at him.
Delicately he removed a strand of hair from your face, all the while his thumb gently caressed your cheek.
It hadn’t been on purpose, but it had been so long since anyone had touched you like that, so nuzzled your cheek into the palm of his hand as you let a single tear loose.
He wiped that away too.
“You’re safe here,” he said, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes, you knew that he meant it.
“Excuse me, my King” a voice echoed through the small courtyard.
The two of you flew away from one another, before turning to the man who had managed to sneak up on you.
It was Woozi. “Dinner is almost ready, and I was wondering if the servants should set an extra plate at the table for you miss?”
He was more polite around the king than he was when it was only you and Minghao around. Which did make sense, yet you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
Jeonghan smiled at you. “What do you say, want to do me the honors and join me for dinner?” He stood up and extended a hand towards you.
You looked first at the hand, and then at him. You smiled as you reached out for it and let him take you to the dining hall.
It had become a tradition for you to eat dinner with Jeonghan since that night. Another tradition was that you in the mornings woke up the entire wing up with your screams.
The nightmares would be haunting anyone in your position, but you were getting so tired of screaming, of having to think back of all that you had lost.
Jeonghan had given Minghao the room next to you, to make it easier for him to be of assistance.
He was typically there by your side before you had even fully awakened. You cried and that morning the dream had been especially brutal, because that night it hadn’t been your nightmare, it had been his.
“It was just a dream” The healer kept repeating as he stroked your hair, and his words made you cry even harder.
“It’s okay, just get it out”
There was no judgement, only support in his voice. He had never specifically asked what had happened, something told you that he had his own reasons for not wanting to know.
After you had catched your breath, Minghao stood up and pulled the silk string, to tell the kitchen that the two of you were ready for breakfast. You did your best to gather your thoughts but the images flashed before your eyes every time you closed them.
Minghao had sat down in his chair as he silently watched you trying to comb your hair. The food came and he made the tea ready for the two of you, before sitting back down with his plate.
“Who’s Chan?” he finally said, and he watched you with almost sad eyes as he saw how you stiffened by the mere mention of his name.
You sat down your cup. “He was my brother, my twin” you lifted one of your shoulders, it looked almost like a shrug you had given up on.
The healer only nodded. “What happened to him?”
You played with your duvet, twisting the soft comforter around your fingers, as if you needed to occupy your hands.
“He was taken, just like I was. Apart from that I don’t know”
When you met Minghao’s eyes, he only gave you a tightlipped nod. It made you wanna continue and for once, actually open up.
“All I know is that he died years ago. I felt it, not that I felt what they did to him, but it was as if the world lost its light, lost its magic. Like it stopped spinning and everything ceased to matter”
Minghao sighed deeply. “It’s what gives me hope”
You looked at him with a raised brow. He leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his hands together, almost as if just speaking about it made him lose all his warmth.
“I have a twin too” he smiled, and you moved a little closer to him, not saying anything, just letting your new friend share his story, just as he always allowed you to do.
“His name is Junhui, but I always just called him Jun. He was a healer too, but he is better with the mental injuries than I ever was. A total mess when it came to the physical ones however” he chuckled and you smiled with him.
“I think he would like you”
“You think?” you teased back, and he nodded. “What happened to him?”
“He was sent on a mission to research sun storms. One of Jeonghan's scholars, Wonwoo, had read about them and he was interested in just what power they might have. He had apparently found something a year or so prior, but the work he did ended up blinding him permanently”
You sat completely still as you listened to his story. They had been looking for sunstorms. It was pure magic, one that like eclipse magic, came directly from the goddesses, but it was rare, so rare that there were really only prophecies and legends tied to it.
“You don’t say no when your king asks something of you, and he was eager for an adventure, had always wanted to see what laid beyond our borders, and this was his chance, so he went without a second thought”
Minghao looked to the ceiling in a desperate attempt to not let his tears fall.
“But he never came back, and he never reached out to say that he had found peace, that he was okay”
You moved closer and sat on the footrest in front of the chair. “Did Jeonghan do anything?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah he sent spies and soldier, but no one ever returned, and after the fifth time, he told me it would be best to just accept whatever had happened to him”
You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But I think he’s still out there, he has to be. Because as you say; I would’ve felt it in the world if he had been taken from me”
The tears finally fell and all you could do was embrace your friend as his heart broke. You felt and understood his pain more than any one else. Yet it was impossible for you to give him any kind of reassurance, it was impossible for you to tell him the two would meet again. But you so dearly wished that you could heal that heart of his. Maybe someday.
So instead you held him, just like your friends had held you when you had lost your brother.
Your talk with Minghao that morning had peaked your interest, and the mention of sunstorms and the scholar, had you wondering not only what the libraries had of hidden stories about your old kingdom, but what secrets might be found of the new one you called home.
It hadn’t taken more than just a simple question before Jeonghan had already arranged a date for him to show you around the massive place. And it was as beautiful and grand as any royal library.
He talked with passion about his forefathers, the magic system of his land and his people. He was excited to share, and you drank up any information that he gave you. Your mind was hungry, hungry for knowledge, and you were lucky that he wanted to give it to you so freely.
His hands lingered on the small of your back, an act that made your breath hitch every now and then. Every time it did you felt how the blush crept up in your cheeks and it earned you a smile from the King, one of pride and satisfaction.
“Last but not least, this is Wonwoo” Jeonghan said as they got to the end of the room, and true enough behind one of the desks sat a wide-shouldered man in dark glasses.
You bowed politely, even though the man had lost his vision. He smiled in return. “It’s good to finally meet you, welcome to my little slice of paradise” Wonwoo said as he gestured to the room.
“Wonwoo might be the smartest man in my kingdom” Jeonghan whispered in your ear, making you blush as his breath and lips caressed the shell of your ear.
“You’re being too kind, your majesty” the scholar said as he humbly lowered his head.
“I think i might have a new student for you” the king said as he pushed you closer to the man.
You stumbled a little as you looked back at him with what looked like a bit of annoyance and embarrassment.
“Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s only natural for a girl with your background to want more information”
There was no doubt that Wonwoo knew exactly who you were and where you had come from, but none the less it seemed like he had agreed to teach you.
And as the weeks went by, he did.
There was a constant stream of knowledge, about the stories of how the kingdoms had been split in two and about the prophecies about children born who would bring peace to said kingdoms. There were books upon books about politics, about the people of The Moon Kingdom and its history and how they had been ruled in millenia.
There were bits and pieces that you as an individual did not agree with, things you thought could’ve been executed better, but you only scribbled them in your notes instead of voicing them with Wonwoo.
You had learned after the first time you had voiced an opinion, that the man did not care for it. He had left without even entertaining you.
It had taken you a while to get comfortable with the blind man. He was, much like the laws of the Kingdom, strict and silent as the night itself. After that first question, you had quickly realized that there was no room for interpretations of the old text, there was no bettering them, because according to the scholar and his king, they had been written by smarter people than them, so there was no reason for anyone to change them. Men.
“Have you ever seen sunstorm or eclipse power?” You asked the man one afternoon.
He looked up from his book and stared at you. “Does it look like I can see anything?” he said in a stoic manner.
You rolled your eyes. “I assume that you haven’t always been blind?”
Wonwoo shut his book in front of him. “You’re getting more and more sassy as time goes by, aren’t you girl” he slung out the word as if it was an insult.
“You might be the Kings guest, maybe even his friend, but that does not give you the right to know about the secrets of this Kingdom”
You stuck out your tongue at him, and he sent you a stern look, as if he could see the gesture.
He waved a hand, dismissing you, and you were quickly out the door. Book in hand as usual, if he didn’t want to teach you about that kind of magic, you would just have to research it yourself.
That night you sat and poked to your dinner, the thoughts of eclipses and sunstorms was nothing short of a whirlwind in mind.
Wonwoo had only made you more curious, and unfortunately you had become more and more like your old self over the last couple of months. They had made room for you to be your true self, and it had made it all so much easier.
But that also meant that the stubbornness was slowly coming to the surface. And that part of you had always been an acquired taste.
Jeonghan looked at you as he chewed his food. He laid down his spoon before scooping your hand in his. It had become a gesture you had gotten so used to, that you didn’t even flinch. Instead you just intertwined your fingers with his, an action that always made him grin.
“What is it, my ember?” he had given you a nickname, it was a sweet and kind gesture, one that usually made Vernon make a face of discomfort.
You sighed. “I was at the library today…”
“As per usual” Jeonghan said, you reached out and gently hit his shoulder, it earned you a laugh from the king. He gestured for you to keep telling your story.
“And I asked Wonwoo if he had ever witnessed eclipse or sunstorm powers, but he refused to answer. He as good as insulted me instead” You pouted a little. But Jeonghan had gone quiet, stiff almost.
As soon as you noticed you leaned closer. “He has, hasn’t he?” You asked with a more quiet tone.
Jeonghan looked towards Vernon, who shook his head so little that most people wouldn’t even be able to notice the gesture, but as with everything the captain did, you noticed.
The King sighed. “I can’t tell you here” he let go of your hand and continued with the meal, and suddenly you had lost all appetite. You were desperate to learn more, especially when the scholar had refused to.
Jeonghan sighed, then he scooped up his plate, and took your hand, and pulled you along after him.
You laughed, and as you left the large dining hall, happy you had gotten your way. You looked back at Vernon with a victorious smile, but he looked devastated, broken almost, and the previous flutter of happiness were quickly morphed into a pit in your stomach.
The walk to Jeonghan's private balcony wasn’t long, but due to Vernon’s reaction to his king's willingness to discuss it all with you, it made you wonder if this secret really was one you wanted revealed.
You sat up at the stone reeling, and Jeonghan put his plate of food beside you, taking a bite before finally looking towards you.
He smiled, and crossed his arms before his chest.
“Many years ago my parents ordered one of their captains to kidnap a child from The Sun Kingdom. He was born in the nobility and the rumors in the court was that he would have sunstorm powers when he grew up. My dad decided that a power like that would be catastrophic to leave in the hands of our enemy”
You moved a little closer to him. Desperate to hear more. You had of course heard of the tale when you were a child. A child stolen in the castle at night. It was why your parents had decided to take Chan and yourself and leave the fortress behind. Your mother had been terrified that something would happen to the two of you as well.
“As the child grew, they… or I guess we, quickly realized that he did not have the sunstorm powers, but instead he had other gifts, talents. So we kept him close, raised him, molded him into a soldier. Some of his sunpower is suppressed, just enough to not make anyone too suspicious. But he is powerful. His flame is white like moonlight, and it burns unlike anything I have ever seen. It flame and shadow all at once”
Jeonghan smiled, and it was a dangerous and wicked thing. He was fascinated by the power, that was clear to see, he was proud that he had such a weapon at his disposal.
You nodded. “I’m glad that you kept him alive, that you found use of him. That you didn’t disregard him like” you sighed. “Like they did with Chan”
The king reached out for you, he held your head in his hands as his dark eyes searched yours. “I promise you my ember, that one day we will find those responsible for your brothers death, and when that happens, I will allow you to do whatever you wish to those monsters”
There was a glimmer there, in your eyes. You could see it reflected in his. It was a promise of destruction, of revenge. That day in the forest, when the two of you had met the first time. That day had been nothing short of fate, the goddesses themselves had let you to the man who would help you get your revenge.
He grinned, and you returned it.
One of his hands snaked around your neck and he pulled you closer to him, allowing your forehead to press against his.
“Everything you want to do is justified, I won't stand in your way for your revenge”
You smiled a little wider. “Well I guess that means I might need to start training then”
Jeonghan laughed then and pulled you from the railing, he pulled you close and your hands snaked behind the back of his neck.
“I guess it does”
He took your hand to lead you away from the balcony. “This child, or I guess he’s a man now, does he have the power of the eclipse then?” You asked as you slowly rested your head on Jeonghan's shoulder.
“We don’t know yet. There’s never been a recorded case of the eclipse power, at least not in my kingdom, but I think he might be the best bet” Jeonghan extended his arm to you, and you quickly took it.
“I guess that makes sense, a power like that would most likely get stronger as the years passed” You thought out loud, and Jeonghan only hummed in response.
“I’ve never heard of anyone with sunstorm powers, I know the legends say that they’re from The Sun Kingdom, but if he was from there and has eclipse powers, then maybe the sunstorm powers is something you’ll find in your own kingdom?”
“That could be, but I have it on good authority that , that is not the case”
You hummed. “I don’t know what your tales says about the eclipse powers, but I do know a little about what my old people said about the sunstorm powers”
Jeonghan pulled you a little closer, urging you to go on. You could feel the interest bubbling beneath his otherwise calm demeanor.
“It was said that one family would have their middle child carry sunstorm powers. But that if he was not protected, if he died, The Sun Kingdom would lose its right to the powers. The theory was that one from your kingdom would instead be blessed with them. In a similar way if you would fail to protect your eclipse power, then one from our Kingdom would gain the power”
You looked up at Jeonghan as you tightened your grip on his arm. He, however, was lost in thought, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
A smile spread on your lips as you let him have his thoughts all to himself.
All you had gotten was a place and a time. That and a new wardrobe for you to use for training, the fine silk dresses would make it a little difficult to move around like you would need to.
You stood there and waited. The room was completely empty. Not one soldier had shown up, and you wondered if it was because they had been ordered to stay away.
The hall was large, scattered with weapons and equipment. You admired it all, studying every little thing on the walls as you recalled how you would soon need to move and stretch your body to operate them.
Fighting had always been something you had loved to do growing up. Your powers had never been strong, they hadn’t been deadly as Chan’s had. They were a gift yes, but a common one of the people you belonged to.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault there aren’t people here. My men need the moonlight and the darkness to train with their powers, the sun will do them no good” Vernon said as he entered the hall.
He was in casual clothes, without his usual plates of armor. It was dark, and you finally had a chance to actually observe the captain. The two of you were alone after all.
He walked with confidence and there was something so elegant about the way he moved. It was as if he expected the ground beneath his feet to be there, not because it had always been the way of the world, but because he needed it there, and he expected it to comply with his wishes.
“Let’s see what you got” he still had a hat on, once again shielding his eyes from you. You furrowed your brows and he sighed when you didn’t follow his command.
“Show me that fire of yours” he said again, as if his first statement had been too difficult for you to understand.
You shook your head to release your mind from the thoughts that ran through it, as they always did when you looked at the captain.
You raised a palm and an orb of fire appeared a few centimeters above your palm. It had been a while since you had summoned it, so it was weak and kept flickering.
Vernon only nodded. There was nothing in his demeanor that indicated whether he was disappointed or impressed. He took a step aside and revealed a dummy who stood in the other end of the room.
He pointed to it. “That’s your target,” he said. You laughed a little, but the captain kept his stoic facial expression as he looked at you. You seemed to bore him more than anything.
“Are you serious?” You asked as the smile slowly disappeared from your lips. You raised a brow with the question, and he only nodded.
You tried your best, but the little fireball never reached close to the doll, it only came a quarter of the way before it plopped down on the ground, and went out.
Vernon released a huff of air, it was almost a grunt. “Pathetic” you heard him whisper beneath his breath. You sent another ball of fire towards the intended target, it got closer, but it was still no way near it.
Vernon crossed his arms over his chest as he shook his head with a smile on his lips. He was baiting you, you knew that he was. Everything he did, he did to get a reaction from you. And it was working.
It took you an hour and a half to get the little ball of light ¾’s of the way to the target, and at that point you were heaving for air. Your hair was damp, and your shirt was clinging to your back due to the sweat. You were exhausted, but you refused to give up.
The captain stepped in front of the target once again, almost as if he was shielding it from your so-called attacks. “We’re done for today”
Your hand fell to your side and the fire went out. “What? But I didn’t even get to-”
He held up a hand to silence you, and the mere gesture was enough to light a fire under your ass.
“I needed to know how much you are capable of, what you can do when well rested and how it looks when your reserves are starting to run dry”
You looked down at your hands as you once again tried to summon the fire, but nothing came when you called. The fire was out, there was nothing left, and he had known before you had
You furrowed your brows as your legs gave out under you.
“You’re exhausted” Vernon said as he came to your side, a sack of water in his hands, one he quickly passed to you. “And you’re hanging on to rage”
The sack was as good as empty when you replied. “Isn’t that a good thing?” It was a question you didn’t expect him to answer. Your tone was annoyed, sharp, and if anyone had spoken to you like that, you would’ve left them to deal with their temper tantrum alone.
“It’s not,” he said before he sat down beside you. He held out his hand, his palm facing the ceiling. “Anger is a fleeting emotion. Sure, it’s a strong one, but it loses power over time, it has no real anchor point. Anger can give you an instant surge of power, but what I want from you, what I want to teach you, is to dig deep, and find that one emotion or memory that brings you peace”
A bright ball of pure white light appeared in his hand, it was blinding, and when you wanted to look away from it, Vernon did a small flicker of his finger, and the ball flew from his palm to the target, the mere impact causing it to light up in what almost looked like silver flames.
Despite your exhaustion you were at your feet in an instant. You looked at the flame like light for no more than a split second, and then they were gone, as if they had in fact never existed and so was the target, there was nothing left.
“How did you do that?” You turned to him, and you could feel the joy and excitement that roared through your body. It had been so long since you had experienced even something similar to his power.
Vernon stood, a small smile on his lips, one you had never seen on his lips before. “I use a memory, of the people I love most in this world, of my home and my family”
Despite the fact that his eyes were hidden in shadow, you could’ve sworn you saw a shimmer and a sparkle in them by the mere mention of said memory. That is new.
You smiled at him. “Okay, let’s meet again tomorrow” You reached out to give the captain your hand, and as quickly as his smile had appeared, it was gone again.
Vernon turned on his heel and walked towards the door. “Same time tomorrow, Spark” he stopped in his tracks. As if the name he had just given you had come as a surprise to even him.
A warmth spread through your body, and you felt your breath hitch. In that moment all you wanted was to run up to him, force him to say that again. But you couldn’t, it was as if his words had nailed you to the ground.
You would be there tomorrow, you would learn everything he wanted to teach, to get stronger, and hopefully at some point, the captain would trust you enough to finally tell you who he was.
The next few months were a series of the same routine over and over again. The mornings you spend with Minghao, getting breakfast, drinking tea in the garden, slowly healing both your mind, your body and your soul.
The thoughts of the kidnapped child Jeonghan had told you about had never left your mind, you looked for any indicator of a man who was even remotely different to his peers, wherever you went on the castle grounds. You studied every soldier, nobleman and servant, yet he was nowhere to be found.
Or else they had managed to completely suppress the Sun side of him, maybe he was hiding in plain sight. You did have your theories of course, but at that point in time they were nothing more than that. And you did after all have more pressing matters to attend to.
After lunch you would train with Vernon, slowly building up your stamina and your muscles. As each day passed you could run faster, hit harder and summon more and more fire. The fire got easier to control, to throw and to master. You knew it would take time to master and you didn’t mind the work that much, it gave you a purpose, a goal to work towards.
The evenings were spent with Jeonghan, taking walks throughout the castle, having him teach you the way of his land and its magic. The two of you had dinner every night, growing closer, more intimate. And typically the two of you would end up on a couch in the library, each a book in hand, limbs intertwined.
The king would pull you as close to him as humanly possible whenever he thought you had fallen asleep. It was a gesture that warmed your heart, that made you feel a sense of pride. He would cradle you in his arms, and carry you back to your quarters where he would tuck you in, on those nights where you had no energy to get up yourself.
Everyone knew that he wanted you by his side, that his heart had come to belong to you and you alone. It was something Woozi and Minghao teased you with each morning, something that made you roll your eyes at them, all while secretly wishing they were telling the truth.
He never acted on those desires. His hands always lingered, his eyes shone like the stars in the sky, yet he never expressed his emotions. People always said actions spoke louder than words, and normally you would agree.
But Jeonghan wasn’t no ordinary man, he was a king and a ruler. There were laws about who he was allowed to love. There were advisory boards and nobility families that had to be appeased in any match of his. And as much as you sometimes wish the stars would align for the two of you, you also knew that, that was nothing more than a childish dream.
After breakfast and tea one morning, Minghao and Woozi had both asked if they could accompany you to your training with Vernon, and since you had gotten better, you saw no reason for them not to watch along.
The pair took a seat against one of the walls and when Vernon walked in, they both waved at him, he looked taken aback at the spectators. Some part of you was a little afraid that he would scold you for bringing them along, so you went up to him as he gathered the things he would need for that day's lesson.
“I hope you don’t mind, they asked if they could come and I-”
“It’s fine” he cut you off.
It had been your hope that he would slowly open up to you, but that hadn’t been the case, on the contrary. It seemed like he took one step back, every time you tried taking one forward.
The nickname that had slipped out at your first training also hadn’t made an appearance again since. Some days you even thought you had imagined him saying it.
You nodded and found your place in the middle of the room. You had hit the target more and more over these past few weeks, your orbs of fire got faster with each passing day, which only meant you got more and more confident in your abilities.
Vernon stepped in front of the target, and you waited for him to give you orders. But the man stood still, and he didn’t say a word.
A small tilt of your head and a raised brow was enough of a question for him to reply.
“Since you’re so confident in your own abilities that you’ve gathered an audience, you will be training with a moving target today, a target that fights back”
Your mouth opened in chock. “But we’ve never done that before” was all you said.
He smiled sinisterly. “We have to try it some time, so why not now?” Vernon summoned his own power and threw it at you.
It took you a second to realize what he had planned, so when you moved you could feel the cold that ebbed from that bright white light, so close to your face that it almost knocked the air out of you.
“In the goddesses' names, have you lost your mind?!” you yelled back at him.
Vernon only shrugged. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Minghao rise from where he was sitting.
“What?” was all Vernon said, as he threw another white ball of light your way. This time you had seen it coming and quickly retaliated.
“Not bad” Vernon said after he had avoided your counter attack. It didn’t even get close to hitting him. “If what you wanted to hit was nothing I mean”
Two of his lights flew your way, and you ducked and rolled out of their path before shooting fire his way, this time it was more a stream of it, instead of small blasts. He was getting under your skin, he was baiting you once again, as he had done so many times.
“Are you getting mad?” He asked, and you could’ve sworn you saw one of his eyes sparkle in their usual shadows.
“No” you responded in a stern voice, he only laughed coldly.
“We’ve talked about this, find a memory, of something or someone you love”
Another blast flew from his hands, one of which almost hit your shin.
Your chest heaved for air, you felt how you were slowly running out of energy, how your magic was draining as you desperately tried to keep up with the captain.
He stopped and crooked his head to the side as he watched you, as a predator watched its prey.
“What’s the matter? Don’t have anyone you love? Or have they all just decided to leave you behind?” He spat out the words and you felt your whole body go cold.
You didn’t even think, instead you pulled every bit of sun and fire that were in your veins, you summoned every spark inside of you, even those who hid out in the darkest depths of your soul.
Rage over took you and as you prepared to attack the captain, Minghao yelled out Vernon’s name, not in warning of your attack, no he hadn’t noticed your stance. He yelled out in protest, he yelled out on your behalf, to put the captain in check.
And as you threw every bit of sun magic you had inside of you, Vernon's way, he was caught off guard because of the voice of both of your friend.
The fire flew from your hands before you even had a chance to rail it back in, it travelled faster than it had done in any previous training sessions with the captain. But he didn’t notice, as his eyes were still looking at Minghao.
All you could do was scream, and you did, you screamed your own nickname for him.
“Sol!” It was a broken sound, one that bounced off the walls of the training hall. Even after the fire had found its mark.
The fire hit him hard, it hit him before he had a chance to jump out of its path, and it knocked him off his feet and threw him to the floor before it engulfed him in flames.
You ran to him, and when you were halfway across the room you heard him. He didn’t scream in pain, as they usually did, he didn’t yell. The captain of the guard was laughing.
It stopped you in your tracks, and you gaped at the man as he slowly sat up, all the while your fire danced around him and his skin, it was as if you were watching a curious creature welcome an old friend it hadn’t seen in years.
And you felt your heart stop in your chest, you felt how the memories that had been hidden away somewhere within you, all came back to you. You remembered the nickname, his and your own. You remembered everything.
You felt how your knees wobbled, how they gave out beneath the realization of who you had been standing before all these weeks, these months.
Vernon was quickly on his feet, and as your flames went out, he quickly barked an order to both Minghao and Woozi to get out, and despite some hesitation they did.
As the door closed behind your friends you looked to him, and for the first time he smiled at you. It was awkward, as if there was fear hidden behind it.
“I’m sorry, but I just… I needed to see what would happen if you attacked me” He took a hesitant step towards you.
The man before you was no captain of the guard, he was not a soldier, it was a man that resembled a boy, a boy that was terrified of the possible rejection that laid on his path.
“When did you know?” You looked at him with tears in your eyes, your chin vibrating with both happiness and sorrow intertwined.
He shrugged. “Since you got here I think. I couldn’t place why I felt so protective over you, why I was looking for dangers that might attack you and not the king, whenever you were in the same room. It’s not normal for me to be that unfocused”
He looked at his hands as he slowly pulled at his fingers.
“What are you doing here Spark? We both know you aren’t safe anywhere, not while he is still alive. Besides, since when do you leave Chan's side for more than a day?”
He chuckled and you furrowed your brows at his statement.
“You don’t know…?”
“Don’t know what?”
How you hadn’t realized it sooner was beyond you. You reached for him, arm stretched towards him. He moved towards you instantly, sitting down beside you on the floor. Pulling you close to him. You allowed him to hold you for a few minutes before you were gonna destroy the hope you felt lingered in his heart.
“I can’t believe this is actually real. You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this”
A single tear fell from his eyes, it was one of happiness, and you couldn’t help but smile. You rested a hand on his cheek as you made him look at you. He hesitantly reached up and removed that damned hat.
As expected, his eyes were a perfect match to your own, hidden in darkness so that no one would find out that the captain was in fact not from this kingdom, but from yours. The child that was kidnapped in the night so many years ago.
The only difference was a slight silver ring around his pupils, as they had always been.
“Hansol” you said and he smiled, it had probably been years since someone had called him by his given name.
You stroked his cheek, and the smile on his lips disappeared.
“Who?” he asked in a serious voice.
“Chan” You said.
He pulled away from you and held your hands in his. He shook his head. “No, no it can’t be. If he was gone I would’ve known. If he was gone they would’ve told me!”
“Hansol… It’s why I’m here” He froze at that. As the puzzle pieces seemed to click into place, he went pale.
“You want revenge…” he said as he swallowed once, twice.
You nodded.
“What if he find-”
“He won’t” you said, there was no reason to put it out into the universe.
Hansol pulled you even closer to his chest as he silently rocked you back and forth as your mother always had.
“Please just let it go, I just got you back, I can’t lose you too” he buried his head in the crook of your neck.
“I promise you won’t lose me, even if the goddesses claim me before my time, then I’ll be by your side, just as I’m sure Chan is by ours”
The two of you held each other, and if it had been possible for human eyes to look behind the veil of your own world, the two of you would’ve seen the missing piece to both of your lives embracing you both. The soul of Chan, still lingering by your sides.
The missing petal of a fire clover, the middle brother of your sibling flock of three. For the longest time you had thought you had lost both of your brothers, you were happy to find out you still had one left.
The workouts with Hansol had suddenly gotten a lot more fun. You enjoyed each other's company, you shared memories and stories with him about your parents, and he shared stories about his life in the castle you now both called home.
You told him about the day you had lost Chan, how it had felt as if the sun itself were shedding a tear over the loss of one of its most precious children.
He never asked about the cave, how you had ended up there. Something told you he knew exactly what had happened after the death of your brother.
Jeonghan had noticed the change in you and his captain, and to your surprise it pleased him. On one of your evening walks he decided to open up a little more than he had done previously.
“Vernon is a menace. He’s strong, stoic and powerful. But I grew up with him” he smiled as he looked up at the stars, they reflected in his dark eyes and for a second it looked as if they were the true night sky.
Even after all this time he still managed to take your breath away.
“He never really had any friends because… Well never mind that” he shook his head. “But neither had I”
You raised a brow. “So are you telling me your highness that no one wanted to befriend the future king?”
Jeonghan laughed and pulled you closer to him. Your heart started beating faster at the sheer proximity.
“Of course they did, but for all the wrong reasons. The children had been ordered by their parents to befriend their future king, not because they actually liked me, but because it could mean a secure future for their house”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on children” You only said.
Jeonghan hummed. “Unfortunately it’ll be one… my children will inherit one day aswell”
You pulled away from him at that. It was the neutral thing to do when rejection was staring you in your face.
“My ember…” He said as he reached out for you.
You gave him a polite smile. “It’s okay. I should get back to my cambers anyways, it’s getting late, and what would the nobility think if they saw their king with someone like me”
“Please” was all he managed to say as he moved with you, desperate to have you close to him, even when you tried to remove yourself from him.
“Your majesty” was all you said before turning from the king.
You wanted to know more about Hansol's story. But how could you listen to it when he so blatantly had rejected you?
His kids, his kids he would have with someone that wasn’t you. There was no other choice than to leave him, anyone in love would be devastated by those words.
All you could do was hope that he would be just as devastated by how you removed yourself from him, that he would change the rules, that he would convince them that you were the queen this kingdom needed.
But that was a childish dream.
The morning after Minghao came to your chamber. It was later than usual.
“No nightmare?” He asked as he looked at you from his chair, all the while you prepared the tea for once.
You just shrugged. “Why would I need a nightmare when I’m living in one?” You hid behind your hands dramatically.
Minghao leaned forward in his chair and reached out for you. “What are you talking about?”
You turned on your heel and looked at him. His eyes were large with concern although he was smiling. You knew that he would protest when you told him, you knew he would do his best to change your mind about the decision that had been brewing in your head since last night.
“I think I might need to move out of the castle” you said as you bit your lip.
He was up in an instant. “And who gave you that stupid of an idea?”
You shrugged, because how were you to tell the healer that it was because of his king? It was getting too difficult. You knew that Jeonghan felt something towards you, yet he refused to act on it, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were getting impatient.
If he could not give you what you wanted, what your soul craved, you would have to find someone who could.
Minghao looked at you with eyes that seemed to look right through you. “How about we switch it up a bit then?”
You turned your body to face him. “Switch it up, how?”
The man smiled. “Well I’m pretty sure Jeonghan has set up an account for you, so how about we go on a bit of a shopping spree?”
Minghao raised a brow as he smirked at you.
A high pitched sound left your mouth. The silk dresses you had been parading around in were beautiful, and you were more than grateful, but they were in colors that did not match your complexion even a little bit.
He laughed at your reaction. “Finish your food and we’ll go out to town okay?”
Instead of answering you quickly began stuffing food into your mouth.
The city was beautiful, the streets were filled with little shops and cozy cafes. It was almost as if you had been transported back to when you were still a child. Transported back to a time where you had no expectations, nor worries.
Minghao understood what the latest styles were, and he knew exactly where to find the shops that were worthy of bringing it all to life. The two of you were laughing and feeling your best as you left the third shop of the day, bags in hand with smiles painted on your faces.
You crossed over a plaza where two girls stood in the middle and sang a song. Their voices bounced off the walls and made a natural echo. It sounded as if the two archangels had decided to let their voices flow.
It stopped you completely in your tracks, yet you seemed to be the only one.
“It’s beautiful” You said, almost breathless.
Minghao nodded as he let out a small hum.
“How come we’re the only one listening in?” You looked at your friend and saw him open his mouth once, he had a pained expression.
“They are here every day, trying to collect coins to help their parents gather enough to pay the tithe”
The healer looked almost embarrassed.
“Tithe” you said as you looked down at the bags you held in your hands, the bags filled with silk, lace and stones expensive enough to feed a family for years.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had read of the tithes in the library, read of how every family was expected to pay a certain amount to the nobles, to sustain their way of living. But you had expected it to be an old system, one that was not upheld any longer.
“Minghao… We need to return all of this”
He looked at you with sad eyes. “There’s nothing that you can do for them”
Your head whipped towards him. “By the goddesses, of course there is”.
When every dress and every piece of jewelry had been returned, you approached the two girls, and said that you would love to meet their parents.
They had taken you down small and dirty pathways of the city, down allies filled with filth, next to people that all looked like they were on the brink of starvation. It felt like a knife was twisting in your heart.
This was not how it should be, this was not how it could be. People could say what they wanted about the sun king, and you could say more than most, but no one in The Sun Kingdom was left to fend for themselves like this.
You had given the girl's parents a pouch of gold, and told them that if their girls ever needed anything, that all they needed was to send word for you.
Their mother had wept, and their father had thanked you profusely.
Then they let you to the next family, another that like them needed the help, and you helped them as well.
You went from door to door through the slums, in the shadows of the castle that you had been cooped up in for months while people starved. You had not known, but you knew now, and it was about time that someone did something for these people.
“Are you a princess?” a little boy had asked as his mother had told him that they could finally afford food.
“No little one, I’m just a little light in the dark”
When you returned to the castle that night Minghao had hugged you a little tighter than usual. “Thank you” he had said with tears in his eyes.
You had only kissed his cheek as a response.
That night you slept peacefully.
Jeonghan had been busy after the day you and Minghao had spent in the city. He was running to and from meetings, and for the first time since he had invited you to join him for dinner, he hadn’t shown up.
It broke a part of you, you thought that you meant more to him than you did, you thought that you knew the king better than that, you thought…
It didn’t matter what you thought, you were wrong and that meant you had to plan accordingly. You had spent your days in the sun in the garden, scribbling away in a notebook, trying to decide what would be the best way forward.
You saw him out of the corner of your eye, yet you chose to ignore him. Two could play this game.
“My ember” he said as he stood next to the bench, the bench that he had made for you. You laid down your pen and took a deep breath.
“Please, leave me alone” Your voice cracked a little and you knew that he smiled at that.
“Let me explain,” he said as he sat down.
You closed the notebook with a loud thumb. “Why should I? You left me, left me alone” It wasn’t on purpose but you sounded so small, so fragile.
“No, I promise you, I didn’t leave you”
You looked at him, you saw his apologetic eyes, all while all that he saw was disdain for his actions.
“You did”
He shook his head and reached out for your hand. “No, I’ve been planning, I’ve been negotiating, I’ve been talking to my advisors. I’ve even been talking to my subjects”
Your eyes perked up at that. He nodded. “Yes, they had a lot to say about you, my ember. They hold a love for you, one that I’ve never had, a love that no ruler of this kingdom has ever had. They’re calling you their princess”
A smile blossomed on your lips then. They had all been kind, so kind and with open hearts and open homes. It had been a pleasure to walk among them.
“So why did you…” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as he slowly kneeled down before you.
“Because they’re right, a woman like you, one as kind and as beautiful deserve a title, you deserve to rule, to make this kingdom better than it has ever been”
Your heart swelled.
“You deserve a crown, but I do not want them to call you princess” he shook his head as he smirked, it was a nervous smile, but it was there. “I want them to call you queen, and I want you to be my queen”
At that he pulled out a small round box, as he opened it it revealed a stone as dark as the night sky in a silver setting.
A scream was all you could think to let out. Then you tackled the king to the ground as you repeated: “Yes!” over and over again.
Jeonghan laughed as he pulled you close to his chest.
It was a night worthy of remembering, it was a celebration of your engagement and everyone who mattered in your new life was there, and most importantly Jeonghan was right by your side.
He held your hand with the ring all through the dinner, and every now and then you would catch him, as he stared at you when you admired it.
He was so soft, so gentle around you, and it was a feature you adored, it was what had made everything so easy. His love made it all so easy.
“A toast!” he said at one point as he raised himself from the chair where he had been sitting all night. That was the first time that night he let go of your hand, but now his eyes, those dark eyes were fixated on you and you alone.
It was something you would never get used to, the way he observed you and looked at you with such love and adoration, you didn’t know how you had been this lucky. This lucky that he was the one who found you, that he had been as smitten with you, as you had wanted him to be and that this incredible kingdom of his had chosen to accept you as their queen.
You smiled.
“For you, my beautiful bride. My queen. You are the one thing I could’ve never predicted, and you’re the one thing I never knew I needed. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my li-”
He was interrupted by yells on the other side of the ballroom door. Hansol was up and out of his chairs in a split second. Ready to protect his king, and now ready to protect you as well.
The doors flew open and in walked the three people you would’ve never expected to crash your engagement dinner. The first one to enter was Hoshi, the last tiger, which was what they had always called him.
He was the general in The Sun Kingdoms army. He was known for how he made loyal soldiers that were impossible to break, even under intense torture. He was strict, and if one were to believe the books in Wonwoo’s library, his soldiers feared his wrath more than death itself.
After him followed Seungcheol, the royal guard captain. He was stoic, sharp and all around intimidating. He was the man who handpicked the best of Hoshi’s men, to join in protecting their king. Not a single emotion was to read on his face, it was as if he had cut himself completely off of every single one of them. In this moment he was a weapon and nothing more.
You knew he was coming, you knew he was the only one in the whole kingdom that would travel with both of these men with his side as companions, yet you hadn’t been prepared to see the man. The king that had first led you into that cave so long ago.
King Mingyu stepped in and looked first at the man you were soon to call your husband, and then he looked at you. He nonchalantly took his hands and rested them on his belt, the very belt where both daggers and swords hung. Daggers that had helped cut you open.
You gribbed the sides of your chair and bore your nails into the tree. You wanted to run, you wanted to look away from him, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You wanted him to see how far you had come. Despite the tears in your eyes and the sobs that slowly clawed their way up your throat, you refused to divert your eyes from him.
There was a promise in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in so long, one that made your whole body shake.
“Well well well…” the broadshouldered Sun King said as he smirked. The two soldiers were not far from him. They looked to one another with lazy smiles, almost as if it had been nothing to cut their way into the castle.
And looking at them, and the way nothing seemed out of place, it properly had been as easy for them to cut through Vernon’s men as it were for any other mortal to cut through butter.
“Looks like you’ve come far from our cave my light” Mingyu said as he looked at you scanning you from top to bottom.
You tried steadying your breathing but it was near impossible. You had tried your best to forget him, to push him to the back of your mind, but no matter how much you trained, how much you laughed and smiled, it was as if he was always there, in the back of your mind, lingering.
Your heartbeat picked up as you tightened your grip on your chair, you knew it hurt, but your body couldn’t seem to focus on the pain. He was the only thing you saw.
Hansol looked back at you for a split second, almost as if he could sense something was going on, as if he could sense your distress.
Hoshi growled at him, almost to see what the statue of a man would do. To Hansol’s credit he didn’t move a muscle.
“She does no longer belong to you” Jeonghan spat out, he was mad, and most likely embarrassed.
Mingyu only smiled a little wider as he raised a brow. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that” He took a step closer to the king. “Something tells me that I’m always there in the back of her mind”
He took another step.
“Tell me Moon King, does she scream my name every night?”
He hit a nerve with that comment.
Jeonghan whipped his head towards you, as if Mingyu’s comment reminded him that you were in fact in the room, and there he found you, complete and utter broken. The tears fell from your eyes as your face twisted in what seemed like physical pain.
“Vernon, take her away” His voice was low but due to the complete and utter silence in the hall it carried to you as well.
You looked up at the captain as you shook your head, a silent plea to please let you stay. To let you be by your lover's side just a moment longer.
The hall darkened, and you saw how Mingyu pulled his sword out and flung it around a few times as he lit the blade on fire without even blinking.
The fire was strong and it warmed up the hall instantly.
Hansol grabbed on to you then and pulled you towards the nearest door. You kicked and you screamed, nothing left your mouth but the word no. A plea to the kings to please stop whatever they were thinking of doing.
What if he would end up hurt? What if something happened before you had a chance to tell him just how much you loved him?
Jeonghan pulled a sword from one of the shadows, and just before the door closed, you saw the two kings jump at one another aiming their swords for lethal blows.
When you heard the click of the door shutting behind you, you became limp in the captain's arms. He quickly pulled you over his shoulder before taking the stairs two steps at a time and getting you back to the safety of your room.
He sat you on the bed and tried getting into contact with you, you could see his face in your field of vision. Yet you couldn’t hear his voice. It was as if you were under water, because his mouth moved but you heard nothing.
Hansol gently placed his hands on your cheeks and forced your eyes to meet his, and as soon as those familiar colors met yours. You broke.
He was quick to catch you, and it didn’t matter that you had basically slammed your head into the metal plate of his uniform, because you just needed someone to hold you. And he did, he held you close and stroked your hair gently as he pulled you close to him.
“It’s okay, he’s gonna be okay, he’s the fiercest swordsman to walk this planet, he’s gonna be just fine. Just you wait and see”
You ended up in his lap as he gently rocked you, just as he had done that day when the two of you had found your way back to one another. He held you as you wept, he held you as a brother who wished he could take away all of your pain.
A part of you wished that he would just get it over with, a part of you wished that he would cut the king down where he stood.
It didn’t matter that you got your revenge, it didn’t matter that there would be consequences. As long as he no longer breathed, as long as you could be by your love’s side, as long as you could finally get married.
Not long after you heard the footsteps on the stairs. You curled yourself around the captain as he pulled at his sword, and much like Mingyu had done, he let his silver flame coat its sharp edges.
The door was pulled open and Jeonghan stepped in.
You felt Hansol hold his breath beneath you, and he gently let down his sword, before slowly pushing you away from him. Some part of your soul didn’t want to part with him, but the part that needed to know that he was okay, won the battle in the end.
Jeonghan gently took you from his captain's arms. He looked you over with worried and scanning eyes. He looked okay, he didn’t look hurt.
“What happened?” You asked, eyes scanning for the smallest of answers.
“He wanted you returned to him. I refused”
You felt how your chin started to slightly vibrate, as you let your emotions run freely. The tears kept falling.
“Shhhh” he cooed. “It’s okay, I’m okay”
You were holding him tightly, and you almost couldn’t get yourself to ask what had happened to the three intruders. Were they gone, had he taken their lives or were they on the run?
“Where are they?” Hansol said as he stepped closer to the windows, carefully observing the walls around the castle, scanning them and the woods that you could clearly see from your chambers.
Something told you he would be having a harsh conversation with his men later that evening. His blades were not bloodied during this fight, but there was no doubt that his king needed someone to be responsible for ruining a night that should’ve been a celebration.
“I don’t know, they were gone in a flash of light” Jeonghan pulled you a little closer to his chest.
“I’m so sorry my ember, I promised you that he couldn’t get to you here. I’m so sorry i broke that promise”
You sobbed a little harder, and he rested his cheek on the top of your head.
“He was here…” You cried.
“I know” was all the Mon king said as he stroked your hair.
“He was right here”
It almost sounded like screams, the sounds you made as you felt your soul being torn apart once again by the mere sight of him.
“I want whoever is responsible for this punished” Jeonghan said as he looked to your brother, to his captain.
Hansol was just about to step out of the room when he said: “Vernon, I want their heads”
He was cold, he was the king you had always heard stories about when you were a child and he was only a prince.
A prince that had never accepted mistakes, had now become a king without mercy.
As the door shut behind you he pulled you away from him, he gently led you to the bed and sat you down on it.
Jeonghan took a few deep breaths, urging you to follow the rhythm he set, and you did.
After a few minutes your head seemed clearer, more set on the goal than it had ever been.
“I will kill him for this, my queen. I will slay him where he stands for how he had made you both cry and scream”
You shook your head. “No, I want to be the one to put the dagger in the heart of the king who killed my brother”
Jeonghan smirked before he rested his forehead against your own, gently rubbing his nose against yours.
“I can't wait to marry you” he whispered. You smiled at that, neither could you, the day better come quickly, because you had business to attend to.
Jeonghan had insisted on sleeping in the chair in the room that was usually reserved for Minghao, it was a sign of respect he had said.
His kingdom had other rules on how men and women interacted with one another, when they weren’t married, it was also why he hadn’t as much as kissed you yet.
And with everything you had been through, with all you had loved and lost, you didn’t mind that the intimacy suddenly came after the wedding.
So he had laid there, and just as the healer always did, he had dosed off long before you were even close to sleep.
He meant well, you knew that, he was there for protection, but were you ever safe in that castle you had gotten so used to calling home?
You stood from the covers and went over to the window, and looked out at the world beyond the walls that surrounded the castle.
You looked out at the woods, and somewhere between the trees you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of sunlight, calling you to it, begging you to return home.
Instead of listening to it you just bit your lip and returned to bed, hoping your sleep would be dark and for once without dreams. You couldn’t bear the heartbreak of seeing him twice in one day.
Jeonghan woke you the next morning with breakfast in bed. You didn’t mind that he was the one who did it, but it was strange to suddenly have a different routine.
You hadn’t noticed how much you had gotten used to your day starting with the healer and the cook. Eating your breakfast together had become such an integrated part of your routine.
It gave you a sense of normalcy, one that would definitely be gone as soon as you were wed.
The two of you ate in silence, and for some reason it felt natural.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as he took a sip of his tea.
A nod was all the reaction he got, as you slowly chewed the remaining food in your mouth.
He laughed a little at that, which earned him an eye roll.
“I’m okay, I just… I couldn’t sleep, and I was wondering if you could take me somewhere?”
Jeonghan moved a little closer to you then, gently took your hand in his own, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.
“You just say the word and I’’ll have someone prepare our horses”
A sigh was released from your lungs then, and for a second you wondered if he would in fact grant you this wish.
“I want you to take me back to the woods, I want you to show me where you found me that day”
Jeonghan looked at you with serious eyes, and just as it looked like he was ready to deny your request, something in those cold eyes of his, softened.
He stood from the bed and went over to the large wardrobe that stood in the room, he then started to pull out a set of riding leathers.
When he stopped he went over to you and pulled you into his chest. “When I say I would deny you nothing, I mean it”
Your heart swelled at that.
The ride was relatively short, almost as if someone had been pushing you in the right direction of The Night Kings castle that day.
“My men found you first” Jeonghan said as he swung free of the saddle of his large black stallion.
“Vernon said that it had looked like you had been running all night” he held out a hand for you to take as you followed him.
He pulled you tight into him, as if the memory of you being so broken and weak, broke his heart anew.
“You were strong, I knew that from the first time I saw you. You were a warrior, one who had fought your way to freedom, one who had looked into the eyes of death and had lived to tell the tale”
You held him a little closer, and the extra contact with your body seemed to loosen the muscles in his brows. Almost as if your touch were a reminder that you were safe with him now. You smiled.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving me” You said as you stopped in a clearing.
He slowly rested a hand against your cheek. “I didn’t save you, you saved yourself, my ember. I just lend you a helping hand”
The way he spoke was beautiful, and you appreciated it more than he would ever know, that he didn’t see you as this broken and frail thing, but as a survivor, a warrior.
It was a blessing that you could be yourself with him, that you didn’t need to make your sharp edges blunt to be loved by him.
Jeonghan made a gesture with his head towards a small patch of flowers among the leaves.
You released yourself from his side, as you made laps around the small white daisies on the forest bed.
“I sent out one of my soldiers with flower seeds that day, to mark the place that we found you”
You did a quick turn as you looked at your fiance with disbelief written all over your features. “Jeonghan, why would you even do that?”
It was a simple question, one you almost knew the answer to, but you wanted him to say it out loud.
He only shrugged. “I don’t really know, I guess some part of me knew that you were meant to be mine, that our destinies were intertwined”
The two of your destinies had been intertwined long before the two of you had even met. It made you smile.
“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me, especially after yesterday”
It wasn’t on purpose, but your smile disappeared at the thought of him, of the fight between the two kings.
You sat down on your knees and inspected the little daisies that laid there. You ran your fingers over the ground, touched each petal. A silent thank you for this gift that Jeonghan had once again given you.
“A sculpture of you is being made as we speak. I want it raised right here, so that all of our subjects can come here and pay their respect to their queen. So that they can hear the story of how you fought, how you escaped and how it led you to be their queen”
There was no doubt that the man in front of you loved you. You didn’t know exactly why that was, but he did, and maybe it was time for you to give a little something in return.
“Do we have to wait?” You said as your hands finally stilled.
“With what, my ember?” Jeonghan said as he looked around the forest, his back turned to you. When you studied his shoulders it almost looked like he was holding his breath.
“With the wedding? Do we have to wait?” You quickly stood and moved towards him, he however never turned towards you, almost as if he had wanted you to say the words, as if he wanted you, to want him just as much as he craved you.
You took his hand, your own was cold as metal.
He searched your eyes, and found nothing but want, need, of being tied to him.
Instead of denying you, instead of honoring the traditions of those who came before him, he melted, as snow beneath the sun of spring.
“I would never deny you anything my queen, least of all that”
He took your hand and kissed it gently. Jeonghan, the king of The Night Kingdom, the perfect gentleman, and your future husband.
The next two weeks went by in a flash, the preparations to the upcoming wedding had made you more busy than ever.
Jeonghan had ordered Hansol to stay by your side, it was the only thing, the only thing that kept you sane while all the stress of everything you had to do and learn before the wedding.
Especially since both Minghao and Woozi were otherwise occupied with preparations of their own.
You stood in a room filled with mirrors, with seamstresses all around you as they stitched the black wedding dress onto your body.
Hansol was as always stiff as a statue whenever other people were around, and a part of you hated that your brother couldn’t be there for emotional support.
As if he could read your mind, he quickly dismissed the seamstresses, and as soon as the room was empty, he pulled off his helmet and looked you over with a smile.
“You look beautiful, Spark” he said as he took your hand.
You smiled at him, yet it didn’t really reach your eyes. He gave your hand a little squeeze.
“They should all be here… Mom, dad, Chan…” You bit your bottom lip. You needed them all here.
“Something tells me dad would object to this if he had the chance” Vernon said with a wink, and he was right, he would have. It was too grand, there were too many people and none of those who truly mattered were there. Except him, except Hansol.
“Yeah, at least I have you” You smiled at your older brother and he beamed at the sentiment.
“I think Jeonghan might make me in charge of your guard” Hansol gently removed a few stray hairs from your face. “And if he choose to do so, then I would be the one to give you away”
You threw yourself at him, pulled him close, he laughed at that. “I always thought you would wear white at your wedding”
Now it was your time to laugh. White was the color usually used for weddings in The Sun Kingdom, whereas they used black in the place you currently called home.
“Who says I won't?" You winked at Hansol, and all he could do was roll his eyes.
What Hansol had said turned out to be the truth, Jeonghan had in fact put him in charge of your guard and your security.
According to Jeonghan he was the only man he trusted enough to put his queen's needs before the king’s. He was the only one loyal enough to actually do the job, which meant he was the only one right for it.
“Are you ready?” Minghao said as he gave you your bouquet of flowers.
You took a deep breath before you nodded. Hansol gently let the veil fall down over your face.
“Yes” it was confirmation enough, and before you knew it you were walking down the aisle of the large cathedral.
Jeonghan was shining as a star, tears in his eyes and a smile brighter than any you had ever seen on his lips before. He was happy, the happiest he had ever been, and so were you. This was it.
Wonwoo held a speech to all of the noblemen and women that had dragged their fine dresses and uniforms out of their closets, but you didn’t hear a single word, all you saw was the king in front of you.
The two of you exchanged your vows, and as the scholar tied the black ribbon around your hands, you were officially wed.
A crown was placed atop your head, two scepters were given to you by Jeonghan, one representing the moon, the other representing the sun, and you knelt before the king as he swore you in as queen of his people and the land.
Your heart was beating loudly throughout the festivities of the night, it was hammering away in your chest as you danced with your lover, as you laughed with his friends, as you ate your way through the large banquet.
It never stopped, it was a constant beat in the back of your mind, a clock, a countdown. It was nerves, nerves for what were to happen that night when the two of you were finally alone.
Jeonghan led you into his chambers as soon as it was acceptable for the two of you to leave the party in the ballroom.
It was larger than your own room, the bed was bigger, the windows taller. Overall this was a room fit for a king and queen.
He took your hands, and you were trembling like a leaf.
“Take a deep breath for me, my queen”
You chuckled at that, but you did as he said. It managed to calm you down, at least a little.
“Anyone would be nervous, if you weren’t I might even take offence” he laughed, and so did you. “Buy you my ember, you have been through more heartbreak and pain than most. So I will not force you to share my bed”
You looked straight at him, surprise and relief no doubt written all over your face. He brought a hand to your cheek and caressed it, as if you were the most delicate thing the world had ever seen.
“The day you want to give up your heart and soul to me, will be the second happiest day of my life. But it’s not something that I expect of you before you’re ready. I don’t want it before you beg for me to take it”
His eyes darkened, and you gasped for air.
“All I want from you tonight, is to hold you, if you’ll let me”
Your mouth went dry, and you nodded, maybe a little too eageristic, but it seemed to both melt and soften the king.
Jeonghan gestured towards a room divider in the other end of the room. “At the other side of that you’ll find a nightgown, go change my queen”
So you did, with shaking hands you loosened the black dress and let it fall to the ground, and with shaking hands you pulled on the silk and lace gown that Jeonghan had specially made for the occasion.
He was splayed in bed without a shirt. Casual and content. He belonged there, it was clear to see that he belonged in this grand room. For you it would take some getting used to.
His muscles were defined, and his long hair framed his face so perfectly. Before you knew it, you were pulling back the covers of the bed and slipping beneath it.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Jeonghan laughed as he turned his whole body towards you.
You pushed his shoulder. “No it wasn’t”
The two of you laid there, observing one another in this new space, and as you looked into his eyes, everything stilled.
It was as if looking at him made everything come into focus.
“There you go” He whispered as the whole bed seemed to still as soon as the nerves seemed to disappear.
He rested his forehead against yours as he had always done. “This is where I want to be, right here by your side, this is where I want to end every night, right next to you”
He slowly rubbed his nose against yours, and you leaned into his touch as you closed your eyes, just soaking in his words.
“And one day, this bed is where I want to end my days, next to you as the goddesses collect my soul”
You moved a little closer to him at that and laid a small kiss on his cheek. The gesture made him shudder.
“I think that’s doable, don’t you think?” You could feel the twinkle of sunlight in your eyes peek out, and he smiled wider at the sight.
The two of you didn’t say anything else, you just laid there and took in the day, took in each other, the warmth of your bodies, the smell of your mixing perfumes, the sound of your breaths.
As Jeonghan drifted to sleep, all you could do was thank the goddesses, for how they had blessed you. You smiled as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.
Everything was wet, so incredibly wet. As if it had started raining and someone had forgotten to close a window.
The whole room was heavy, and the smell of iron forced its way up your nose and down your throat, it almost made you gag.
You knew the smell well, it was blood.
You screamed then, a scream that was quickly stopped by the blade ramming into your stomach. There was a furious knock on the door as you screamed out for Hansol, for anyone, yet the stabbing continued, until finally it ceased.
The door to the room flew open and guards were everywhere to be seen. The captain had you in his arms in an instant, the oath he had sworn to Jeonghan making it so that he could not look back, as he ran towards Minghao's room with you in his arms.
Blood was dripping with each step he took, leaving a trail behind for anyone to follow. The healer was quick to open his door, he was over you within seconds, humming, letting his magic flow, healing the important vessels within a second.
Then he left you, left you to go and tend to his king, while his students took care of you.
Hansol had killed many men in his time. Both as soldier, guard and captain, he knew the body and its secrets, and with the amount of blood that was soaking the mattress of your wedding bed?
No one could come back from a blood loss that severe.
“Sol…?” Your voice was horse, weak.
“Shhh…” was all he said as he brushed the sweat soaked hair out of your face.
A tear rolled down your cheek.
You couldn’t muster anything to say.
The captain nodded. “He’s gone”
Through the halls of the castle, all anyone could hear was the scream of their new queen.
As the two weeks up to your wedding, the two weeks after were even more of a blur. You were sitting in meetings with the heads of families and noblemen, all discussing which one of them should take the king's place.
It didn’t matter what you said in protest. Jeonghan might’ve been a man who wanted to hear your opinion, but these men only wanted power.
They couldn’t care less that you were their queen still, because now that the king had died, they saw you as nothing more than a widow.
The meeting was the last of the day, everyone had sworn that they wouldn’t leave the room until they had all made an agreement of who was to be king.
They had been going back and forth for hours when Wonwoo finally spoke.
“There are two ways for us to fix this conflict with The Sun Kingdom, it’s either through war where we hopefully get to avenge our king. It’s a war which we cannot afford, not in gold nor in the losses of men”
His eyes were not hidden behind the dark colored glasses as usual, no they were revealed, exposed to the world.
They were completely white, great power had stolen his vision, sunpower, it made your stomach twist in knots.
“Or it’s through marriage” It was as if he was staring right at you.
“Since you and Jeonghan had only been wed for a few hours, there’s no heir we can promise King Mingyu, which under normal circumstances leaves us at a disadvantage”
The man smirked then, it was sinister, almost evil.
“Luckily for us, we have something that the king want”
You felt your heart stop in your chest as your face drained of color.
The men started talking between themselves, no doubt weighing the pros and cons of making such an alliance with the king of the sun and light.
You knew what their decision would be before they did themselves, such an alliance would mean more gold for each of them, so they would vote in favor of it, and as they all nodded in agreement with the scholar, Wonwoo then looked back to you.
“What do you say my queen?”
The tears welled in your eyes. “I will do whatever it takes to keep my people and my kingdom safe. If this is what you all deem to be the best, then I will sacrifice my own happiness, my own life”
The men all nodded approvingly, all they saw was a woman who knew her place.
“I will make sure that this kingdom will be ruled with help of the people who know how to govern a country”
More nods of approval. Wonwoo sat at the end of the table looking as smug as ever. The men next to him were all idiots, they had not known that he had just secured the crown for himself.
There was no doubt that Mingyu would whisk you away from this palace, and leave the governing of The Night Kingdom to whoever you recommended, and Wonwoo was gonna make sure that, that someone was gonna be him.
You shook your head. He was as stupid as the rest of them.
“Good, I will send word to King Mingyu right away, and lay the terms out for him, let’s hope he still crave our queen, otherwise we might have a problem”
You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer of satisfaction in those dead white eyes of his.
It had been no more than a month since you had been standing in this cathedral, only a month ago that the man in front of you had been Jeonghan, the moon, and yet he was gone now, and in front of you stood none other than the sun himself. Mingyu.
There was a fire burning in his eyes, one you knew was reflected in your own. You were not a weak woman, you never had been, and you were determined to show everyone in the room exactly that.
You were determined to show them all that you could do this, determined to earn their trust and their respect.
Woonwoo stood there, just as he had two weeks ago, saying the sacred words of the goddesses, those that would bind not only your souls together, but the two kingdoms.
You heard one of the giant doors open and quickly close again. You looked towards it and saw a silver haired man sneak in.
It took you a second before you realized who he was, you had become so accustomed to look at the other side of the coin that was his face, you had become so accustomed to look at his twin that it took a few heartbeats before you realized just who you were looking at. Jun.
Your breath hitched and you quickly found Minghao’s eyes in the crowd. His eyes were filled with both love and adoration for you, but also sadness. Your friend was sad on your behalf.
You looked back at Jun and smiled. Then your eyes once again found Minghao’s and you smiled even brighter then.
He shook his head slightly, clearly confused about the sudden change in your demeanor. Your eyes made a direct line from him to the man that had just entered.
Minghao only furrowed his brows in confusion.
So instead you made a gesture towards the door which seemed to do the trick, and as your friend turned you felt your heart filled with joy.
He looked back at you in an instant, as if confirming that his eyes were in fact not deceiving him. Your smile widened even more, though it didn’t seem possible.
The healer slowly stood from his seat and moved closer to the doors. And there at your second wedding, a pair of twins, brothers who had been apart for far too long, finally reunited in an embrace.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mingyu, and how he leaned his head back and smiled at the ceiling.
He was hiding his joy from those in the room that didn’t need to see it. Because like you, he too was happy that the brothers had united at last.
His smile lit up the room, warmed it, and when he once again turned his face towards you, you saw how his face neatly slipped on the smug mask.
You avoided looking at him for too long, afraid of what reaction it might have, so instead you once again turned your attention to the twins.
Jun looked at you then and smiled, broadly and brightly, and then he bowed deeply. It was a bow to thank you, for everything that you had done, for reuniting them at last.
There was a pride gleaming in his eyes. Then he opened the door and slipped out of the room with his brother right behind him. The two of them had a lot of catching up to do.
The ceremony was over before you knew it, and the feast after was complete and utter torture.
You had to sit there and look at people have fun, all while you had to sit there like a statue. Unable to leave before your new husband deemed it time to whisk you away from all the observing eyes.
Hansol grabbed onto your hand beneath the table and squeezed it. You bit your lip. You needed to get out, needed an escape.
“Let’s go” Mingyu had leaned as close to you as he could, his lips touching your ear in the way Jeonghans had, but this time there was no blush in your cheeks, only fire and light burning beneath your skin.
He stood from his seat and held out a hand for his new bride, you hesitated a little before you took it, a gesture which only made him smile even brighter.
Somewhere in the hall you heard Hoshi make a vile noise, one that almost made you roll your eyes. But you composed yourself, and decided you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his shenanigans.
Mingyu let you lead both of you to your chamber. It had been decided that the new king would not be allowed into the room where the previous one had been killed, especially when Mingyu was the one they suspected had been behind the assasination.
Therefore the two of you would instead use the one that had been your home for the past year.
You stepped towards the windows as he gently closed the door behind the two of you.
“Everything is just so dark and cold here” he looked around the room and his eyes finally settled on your back.
You could see the flash of light that he had released reflect on the walls and windows around you. You knew what he had done.
It was a protection spell, one that would let the two of you speak or scream without anyone else hearing it. He had used it so many times before, always when the two of you had been left alone.
“Look at me” he whispered, it was an order, although it sounded more like a plea.
You turned around as fast as you could, and then you looked at him. And you finally allowed yourself to take in the king that stood before you. To take in your husband.
The golden eyes, the strong jaw and light brown hair. The tan skin of his neck and the broad shoulders hiding beneath his cape.
He looked like light and warmth itself, and you had been cold and hidden away in the dark for so long.
You felt the tears as a sob clawed its way up your throat. Your knees, however, gave out first, but he had you in his arms before you could hit the ground.
He pulled you as close to him as humanly possible, and you clung to his white linen shirt as you wept.
“You did so good, light of my life. You did so, so good” he whispered the words again and again. It was a prayer on his lips, a mantra, and you clung to every word.
Because he was right, you had done it.
You had infiltrated the enemy. You had done everything that you had planned to, you had executed everything perfectly. You had managed to seduce the Moon King himself.
Mingyu had lifted you from the spot on your floor and while you were cradled in his arms he had sat down in the chair.
He never spoke, he never rushed you, he just sat there, grateful that he could finally hold you again.
When you were done crying you told him how you had taken Jeonghan's life while he slept.
The day that Mingyu, Hoshi and Seungcheol had cut their way through the palace, he had sent you a signal from the woods, a signal of where to find a sundagger, the very place where you had collapsed, the place that Jeonghan had made so easy to find with the small daisies.
You told him how you had raked through the flowers, until your hand had touched the metal, then you had gently pushed the small blade down the back of your trousers, carrying the weapon back into the moon castle.
You told him of how you had trembled all night, nervous that he would discover the knife you had hidden with a chain around your upper thigh. It wasn’t until you were laying next to Jeonghan in bed and you knew you had succeeded, that your body finally managed to relax.
You told him of how you had pulled the knife in the dead of night, and first punctured his lung. Making it impossible for him to call for help.
And as you slowly made holes in the king, as if he were nothing more than a pincushion, you had told him the real story of who you were.
The story of a girl who grew up with two brothers by her side, one who was kidnapped when she was young, the other when she was an adult.
One brother that had been molded to the perfect weapon by a foreign and cruel king. A king that took riches from those who needed it the most, a king that stole children from their parents to make them into soulless soldiers.
The king had never known that the child, the eclipse wielder, had never forgotten his life, had never forgotten his family. No one had known, until you yourself found your brother in the role as his own captain.
You thanked him for training him, and told him of how you would now use his own captain, to turn his own people against every nobleman and woman in his court. Then you had stabbed him again
Then you told him of the other brother, the one born with the power of the sun and its storms. You told him of how he had been your best friend, of how the two of you had laughed, cried and trained together.
Then you told him about the cruel king that had once again taken what didn’t belong to him, the cruel king that had taken the one dearest to you.
You told him that the day that Chan died, it wasn’t because Wonwoo had tortured him to his breaking point, it was because he had sacrificed himself, and transferred the power of the sun, to the only person he knew would be able to avenge him. You.
Then you had looked into the king's eyes as widened, as he realized he had let his worst enemy into his own castle, how he had been the reason for the prophecy coming true.
A child of the moon, a child of the sun,Born of the eclipse, crowned by the storm.Keep them not sundered, for they are one Together, their fates will shift and transform.
Two lands shall converge, their division undone,And no mortal hand shall unmake what’s begun.
You had smiled as you finished the prophecy.
“This is for Hansol and for Chan and every other person you have killed for your own greed” you had said before you had driven the blade into his heart. You leaned over him and in his ear you whispered: “You did promise me that you would never stand in the way of my revenge, and for that I thank you”
You told Mingyu of how he had tried to reach out for your neck as he slowly bled out before you.
Of how you had laid back in the blood soaked bed and laughed, right before you had kissed the sundaggers blade and lined it up with the old scars they had made on your stomach, in that cave so long ago, and how you had stabbed yourself again and again.
When your vision had darkened in the edges, you had called out for help. And on the other side of your door, there stood Hansol, ready to assist you, to make sure that the story of your innocence was air tight.
Mingyu kissed your temple once as he inhaled your scent.
“I’m so proud of you”
You nuzzled into his chest then. It felt surreal to be there by his side, after everything that had happened.
“I dreamt of you every night” You whispered to him.
It wasn’t a lie, every night you had been there you had met your soulmate in your dreams, it was why you screamed his name every morning
He was being torn from you over and over again.
You could feel his smile on your skin. “I know, I did too”
From the moment the two of you had met it had been him, it was as if a string of golden light connected the two of you, as if the goddesses themself had decided that your fates were intertwined.
He was yours and you were his.
You looked at him, and with the most tender look you had ever seen him express he rested his forehead against yours.
He took a deep breath, one that shook, and as he opened his mouth to say the words, you kissed him.
He kissed you back with a vigor, one that lit your soul on fire and warmed you from within.
As you pulled away from him, his smile could light up the world. You returned it.
“I love you” you whispered.
You had never dared speak the words before now. He had done it often and without a demand of you returning them. He had always known you couldn’t say them, he had always known that if you did, it would be impossible for you to leave him.
He laughed, it was a silent and beautiful sound.
“Oh my light” he kissed your lips once. “I love you too”
The two of you had called upon your closest friends that night, told them to meet you when the moon was at its highest and most of the castle would be asleep, and when the soldiers would be training.
It was torture walking the halls and not grab on to the arm of the man you called husband, the man you loved.
The good thing however was that it gave you a pained expression, one that most of the soldiers lining the halls seemed to approve of.
You were the last one to arrive in the little room that was located in the library. They were all there, all those men that you loved and adored that were still alive.
Hansol stopped at the door and turned his back to the wall, ready to protect you all as you talked and discussed.
You reached out for him and you saw his eyes flicker with uncertainty.
“You belong in this meeting as well,” you said with a smile.
He took your hand and took a deep breath. “What if they don’t remember me?” he whispered almost silently.
The tears threatened to fall right then and there. “They will brother”
With that he stepped into the room behind you.
Once again Mingyu let his magic protect the room in case someone wanted to listen in on the conversation.
You looked out at all of them and took a deep breath.
Woozi was as good as hiding behind Minghao who was glued to Jun’s side. Seungcheol and Dokyeom, the little prince, as you had always called him, were engaging in some sort of conversation.
In one of the corners of the room you saw Hoshi and Seungkwan bicker as usual, the two were masters in annoying one another, masters in driving each other completely nuts, and it seemed that even the pending conversation wasn’t serious enough to stop that routine.
Mingyu pulled you close to his side and you melted into his touch as you always had, and the gesture was enough for all eyes in the room to look towards you.
Dokyeom was the first that moved, he ran to you and picked you up and spun you around.
It earned him a little scream. “Oh how I’ve missed you sister”
It had always been his nickname for you, and he had emphasized calling you that and that alone since Hansol had been taken.
“Missed you too my sunshine” The prince beamed at that before he hugged his brother and no doubt congratulated him once again.
Seungcheol was right behind him and pulled you in for a hug, he pinched your cheek as he let the next one take his place.
Jun had left his brother and the cook and slowly stepped forward, and you met him halfway through the room and he scooped you up into his arms. He held on to you the longest and as he finally pulled away he smiled and said: “Thank you for reuniting us. This is a day I never thought I would live to see”
“It was my absolute pleasure”
As soon as Jun had let go of you Hoshi was over you in a second. The two of you spun around again and again as you laughed together. The tiger was chaotic, but in the best way possible, and you couldn’t wait to train with him again.
“Yah I’ve dreamt of this day for so long!” He spun you around once, and when he finally pulled you in for a hug he whispered: “Don’t worry I kept it safe for you”
You laid a hand on the general's cheek in thanks.
Seungkwan hadn’t moved. Not even a little bit. He was frozen in his chair as he looked towards the ceiling, desperate not to cry.
“Kwan” you said as you stepped towards him, he only shook his head in response.
“You can’t hug me, if you do I will just end up crying even more”
You laughed as you flung your hands around him, causing the sun healer to break down completely. He sobbed into the crook of your neck, and you let him fall apart as you held him.
“I’m sorry, this is kind of pathetic” he said as he laughed a little.
“Just get it all out, it’s healthy!” Dokyeom said as he poured himself a glass of red wine from the decanter that stood in the corner of the room.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need one of those as well,” Woozi said as he stepped forward, quickly grabbing the glass from the prince's hand and drowning it in one go.
Dokyeom only laughed at that.
You saw how Seungcheol looked at the other captain that stood in one of the corners of the room, silent and still as a statue.
“You’re the captain of the guard, are you not?” he asked Hansol and you saw him visibly stiffen as all the eyes of the room looked towards him.
Hoshi took a step closer to him as he said: “How did you manage to win my queen's trust?” the tiger raised a brow as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“She’s my queen too” Hansol only said, his voice didn’t shake, it was loud and clear, but you knew that beneath the uniform, his heart was most likely beating out of his own chest.
You sent a silent nod towards your brother, and he took a deep breath before he slowly reached up and removed the helmet, ready to show everyone in the room who he was.
Hansol’s eyes remained closed for a few heartbeats. “Well that was anticlimactic” Hoshi said with a shrug of his shoulders.
The captain laughed at that, his mouth merging into that all to known smile, and when he opened his eyes to look at the Sun warrior the whole room seemed to cease breathing.
One heartbeat.
Two heartbeats.
Everyone stood completely still.
All of the sudden, as if they had all been let loose, your lover, your oldest friends set off and sprinted towards Hansol.
The man was quickly wrestled to the ground as laughs mixed with cries of relief echoed through the room.
His hair was ruffled, his cheeks were pinched and kissed all the while all of them did their best to pull him into a giant group hug. It was as if they had all become children again.
Your heart had never felt more full than it did in this second, it was as if parts of you, parts that you didn’t even know were broken, were healing right in front of you.
After a few minutes of wrestling and bickering, Mingyu removed himself from the flock. He went straight for you and held your head in his hands. He looked at you with the same love and adoration as he always had.
He kissed your lips slowly and with so much tenderness it made your knees go weak. “You found him” he said with a smile and that signature sparkle in his eyes.
You answered with a nod and a little chuckle.
The men were slowly getting up off the ground.
“Yahhhh… I did not expect that” Hoshi said as he shook his head.
“This is absolutely insane!” Dokyeom said in a voice that was nothing short of excited.
Seungkwan lingered and helped the captain off the floor, and as both men stood, he quickly pulled him in for yet another hug while he whispered something meant only for your brother's ears.
Minghao slowly raised a hand, his back still up against the wall. Jun just smiled at him. “I for one would love to know what the hell is going on”
Mingyu pulled out one of the many chairs that stood around the round table of the room, and with a nod he gestured for the healer to sit down.
“You do deserve an explanation” you looked at Woozi then, “you both do. So allow us to explain what happened before I was found in the woods that day”
“You also need to know what happened while you were gone,” Seungcheol said with a smile, but the tone was still serious.
“And I for one would love to know how the three of you managed to get through my guards” Hansol said, as he gestured to the king and his two soldiers. Hoshi only winked at him, which only made your brothers smile wider.
“We might as well start at the beginning then” you said as everyone had found a seat at the table. Mingyu reached out for your hand and you quickly took it.
☼ notes: please as always! Like and reblog if you like my work, and as always I really appreciate any kind of feedback! Thank you so much for being patient, and for reading
i literally took notes while reading and compared my thoughts on the reread to my initial reactions so thoughts after the reread (and i’ll keep this relatively spoiler free in case anyone):
SO WORTH THE RE-READ GUYS. very much like the Prestige where it’s like “now that i know this twist so many things make sense” and i love that 🙂↕️ everything definitely fell into place more the second time around (even with my reread amnesia getting in my own way)
seriously tho, op cooked the FUCK outta this, like so many of mc’s emotional reactions were misdirects with peak wording choice—LITERALLY DELICIOUS
i seriously cannot remember the last time i read a BIG™️ twist this good and this well planned out like seeing now all of the things i missed (and rightfully so—you really don’t know until the BIG™️ reveal) until the “oh. OH.” moment. the last one had to be a lisa jewell novel or something but GOTDAMN i love this. I LOVE THIS!
thank you @acphengene for this lovely masterpiece i am so happy i got around to reading it again (also i did put my re-read amnesia thoughts in my notes app if you want to see them lol)
☼ pairing: jeonghan x reader, Vernon x reader, Minghao x reader, Mingyu x reader
☼ word count: 24k
☼ genre: fantasy au, friends to lovers au, soulmate au, royalty au, magic kingdom, found family, revenge plot
☼ trigger warnings: mental and physical abuse, torture, character death, murder, cutting, starving, nightmares, angst.
☼ note: I honesty can't believe it's finally done. It feels so surreal! This is my baby, it is one of the most time-consuming things I've ever written and also one of the things I'm moste proud of, so please, please, please, give me all the feedback, and reactions as you read the story. There is a few twists and turns here and there ;)
You ran through the woods as fast as your feet could carry you, as fast as anyone could being as fatigued as you were. The cuts on your feet from the branches and the stones didn’t matter, the tears that the thorns from the bushes left on your legs didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to safety. To get as far away as physically possible from that cave.
You had no idea how long it had been, how long you had been there. There was still no logic as to how you had escaped without anyone noticing. Had someone helped you, or had they just gotten sloppy after guarding you for so long? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you crossed the border.
Voices bounced from the large tree trunks and you ran straight for them, hoping, begging that these were friends and not foe.
A whine escaped your throat, but it was too dry to make a sound louder than a whisper. You felt your legs tremble beneath you and before you knew it you stumbled and fell to the ground. The speed you had been running with made sure that you rolled a few meters before the ground caught on and stilled you.
The crash was loud enough to grab the attention of those closest by. You tried getting up, tried to will your arms to lift you, at least just enough to sit and beg for mercy. But the shackles around your wrists bored into your already torn skin, and they made it impossible for you to do anything.
Tears streamed from your eyes as you sent a silent prayer to both the sun and the moon goddess, begging that these would be the right people to find you, that they would take you far far away from this wretched forest.
“Over here!” You heard a man yell. He was quickly followed by a dusin men and you heard at least half of them draw their swords, the other half pulled arrows from their quivers.
“She’s… she’s… Goddesses above, how is she still alive?” You heard one of them say as you once again tried to lift yourself from the ground.
“Help me…” You managed to whisper. The people around you yelled out orders, the exact nature of them was impossible for you to decipher as you went in and out of consciousness.
At some point you were wrapped in a warm cloak and lifted from the ground by a pair of strong arms. You did your best to cling to the warm body of the person who had saved you, soaking in the warmth he radiated.
How long had it been since you were warm? Some part of you wasn't sure you ever had been, it felt as if this cold that clung to your bones had been there always, as if the sun had never touched your skin. The sun. It felt more like a dream than a memory.
“I got you, rest now, you are safe with me” You heard a voice whisper in your ear, and then exhaustion finally took you.
It was dark when you finally opened your eyes. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room, as if the smallest flicker of light might wake you from the deep sleep you had been in.
You listened before you even dared to change your pace of breath, just as you had learned to do in the cave. Somewhere in the room someone wrenched a towel in a bowl of liquid, no doubt to either clean you or your wounds.
The door slowly opened and you forced your heart to beat in a steady pace since you didn’t want to alarm your new captors.
“How is she?” The voice that spoke was stoic, uninterested and deep.
You heard a sigh that reminded you more of a melody than anything else.
“Like the last time you asked, she’s alive. I’ve healed the last bit of frayed skin around her ankles and wrists. But the wound on her stomach, on her chest…” The man's voice trailed off as if he was imagining what had been done to you to make the scars.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Some of them healed so long ago. I can’t imagine how long they held her captive"
The healer's voice quivered. It was the voice of a soft soul, one who would take the burden of another’s pain, and let it move him to tears.
A rustle of metal was heard, and you shot from your place on the soft pillows in the bed. The metal was after all such a similar sound to those of the chains that had kept your hands and feet tied together. It was the only natural response of anyone in your position.
The man in the armor quickly pulled his sword, as if you, this frail and harmless woman could cause any of them any danger.
He protectively stepped in front of the healer. Both of the men were of similar build, although they had very different purposes. Where the soldiers, no, the captains, you realized as your eyes noticed the fine details in his uniform, slim figure was for speed and to make him a smaller target, the healers were from being crouched over books and people.
You threw yourself from the comforts of the bed, and when your newly weaved skin came into contact with the cold night's air you winced in pain. The nerves hadn’t regenerated yet it would seem. The broken shell you once had called a body hit the floor and you crawled to the nearest corner, you had no one to watch your back other than the walls, so they would have to do.
The healer stepped around the soldier and slowly pushed him out the door. “Captain you need to leave, I can’t have you traumatise her further” and as if he had hung the stars themselves in the sky, the captain nodded and left.
“I’ll let him know” was all he said before he slipped from the room.
The healer looked at you. He observed everything, from how your heart beat in your chest to how your pupils dilated to adjust to the moonlight. Every time you moved your body screamed in protest, and as much as you tried to keep the pain away, even with the adrenaline pumping through your body, you couldn’t help how your face twisted in pain.
“Shhh…” he said as he sat down on the foot of the bed. “You’re safe here”
You stared at him with horror in your eyes, and you could almost taste the pity and the sorrow that radiated from him.
For the first time since you had woken up you allowed yourself to look around the room. It was large, every window neatly decorated with shining and shooting stars. The interior was dark and silver, the walls were tall and the almost sheer white curtains were slightly blowing in the wind.
The air was crisp, fresh and clean. You sighed deeply, and felt how your heart sang from the lack of sand and dust that entered your lungs. A breath like that alone was almost enough to take your mind from the scars and the new skin that were no doubt scattered all around your body.
New skin. Skin that hadn’t been cut and pulled apart, skin that had never been touched. Skin that he, that they had never touched.
The sob forced its way up your throat, and before you had a chance to stop it the cries took over your whole being. There was no stopping it, and the healer at the foot of the bed didn’t even try to comfort you, instead he let you have your emotions, he let you feel them, he let you mourn.
For that you would always be thankful.
You couldn’t remember if you had crawled back into bed yourself, or if you had been carried when the sobs and cries had finally stopped, leaving you passed out once more.
It didn’t really matter, because when you woke up you were once again under the soft warm duvet.
Against one of the windows were a large armchair, black as the rest of the interior, and in it sat the healer, book in hand. He kept reading, but something told you that he knew you were watching, so instead of pretending otherwise, you sat up and rested your body against the headboard.
He shut the book before he looked at you. His eyes were both kind and understanding and his smile seemed genuine. It was a familiar smile.
“Are you hungry?” is all he asked before he stood from the chair to put the book away.
The other night hadn’t done him justice, he was slender yes but his shoulders and arms held muscles that were built by his craft. Grinding herbs and making potions usually had that effect on any man's shoulders, at least if he did it properly.
You nodded, afraid that your voice hadn’t yet recovered. As if he could read your mind he gestured towards the small table next to the bed where a glass and a decanter stood, both filled to the brim with water.
It was as if he had released a wild animal, because you threw yourself over it and started chucking it down without caring if you spilled down at yourself.
When you finally came up for air, you looked at him and he let out a quiet laugh. It was a surprising sound, one you didn’t expect from him.
He had long light hair, a stark contrast to all the black in the room, but he looked very stereotypical as the people from ‘The Moon Kingdom’.
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh. I can't imagine how long it has been since you had access to clean water”
You forced a smile. “It’s okay I can imagine I’m looking like some sort of wild beast” your voice was a little hoarse, but you were glad to discover you were able to get your point across at least.
You coughed a few times in the hopes that it would warm up your vocal cords. “What’s your name?”
The healer pulled a long braided piece of silk next to the door. “Minghao” he said before he took a few bottles and a tin can off a long table. Then he once again sat at the foot of the bed and laid them all out in front of you.
“These are for you. I’ve tried my best to modify my usual recipes for you, but if you feel any side effects come to me at once and we’ll try to fix them together. The tonics are for your internal injuries and mostly just to give you enough vitamins to make you strong as fast as possible. The ointment is for your scars, should you wish to fade them”
Your fingers caressed the new skin around your wrists. It felt like a crime to remove the memories your skin held, even if those memories were heartbreaking to even think of. They were a testament of survival and a reminder that you would one day get your revenge.
“Thank you” was all you got to say before it knocked on the door. A short man opened it shortly after. He moved slowly, as if he was used to being a caretaker of frightened animals. You were used to people tiptoeing around you, but normally it had been for a different reason, normally it had been from fear. But it was that exact fear that had led you to that cave.
You shook your head, desperate to get the memories out, and the short man seemed to stop, as if the ‘no’ was to him and not to your own mind.
“I can come back” he said as he looked at Minghao with large eyes. In his hands he held a tray with a few bowls and you finally allowed yourself to inhale, and the smell alone was enough to stop every other thought in your head.
Whatever the short man had cooked, it was the most divine thing you had smelt in what felt like years. Your eyes narrowed in on the large bowl and the delicious steam that came from it.
The small man laughed. “I took the liberty to prepare a few things, proteins and probiotics to hopefully give your energy and strength. It usually help the soldiers recover quickly, my hope is it will do the same for you”
He sat down the tray and a bowl of soup with various vegetables and sources of protein stood in the middle, on the sides there were everything from rice to different fermented vegetables and extra protein, should you feel the need to add extra.
You almost drooled as you took the chopsticks and the spoon into your hands. “My name is Woozi, I’m the head chef here and I’ve been tasked, like Minghao, to take care of you. If you’re hungry just pull the silk string by the door and I’ll bring food to you as quickly as possible, and if you have any requests, please let me know and I’ll do my best to accommodate you” He bowed slightly.
“Thank you” You said, but your eyes never left the food. The two men laughed. “Just dig in already, no need to hold back for our sake” Minghao said as he allowed himself to get comfortable on the bed in front of you.
So you did, and the taste was even better than you could’ve imagined. You moaned out in pure bliss as the first bit hit your tongue, and the cook let out a victorious gesture.
Then the two men watched over you as you ate every single bite and asked for seconds. When you had devoured your second plate you were so full that your stomach hurt, but you felt warm, and for some strange reason you felt safe.
Minghao had spent almost every waking moment by your side, and when you slept he did so too in the chair. And within two weeks it was clear to him that you had gained enough strength to stretch your legs beyond the room.
He saw how you looked to the windows whenever the sun shined through them. How your eyes closed automatically as you seemed to bathe in the sunlight, as you seemed to drink every ray with a need he had only ever read about.
The behavior was common in itself, but here the people usually did it with the moonlight instead of the sunbeams. And due to the placement of the castle and the land, the sunlight was sparse.
“How about we take a walk in the gardens around noone?” He asked one morning as you sipped your tea while reading a book.
You perked up at that. “I’m allowed to go out?” You said and it almost broke his heart how you tried not to seem too eager.
For a moment he had forgotten that you had been a captive, that you hadn’t had any privileges before coming here, so the mere request of leaving your room had never occurred to you.
“You are allowed to go wherever you please” He said as he searched for your eyes. You desperately tried to avoid his.
“I would love to… I miss the sun” You finally looked up and tears welled in your eyes. You missed the feeling of being warmed from the outside and into your very core, missed how your heart drank up the light that rightfully belonged to you and you alone.
It was your power, it was your legacy, your birthright and your one true love. One that had been the reason for all of this, for the scars, the hurt and the heartbreak you had faced. The sun was everything to your people, but you, you had a relationship to the sun and its warmth that were uncommon. It was special, sacred.
Minghao slowly reached out with one hand and then he laid it on top of yours. You didn’t know how long it had been since someone had touched you.
The tears started before you had a chance to stop them, and he opened his arms to you and for once you didn’t overthink anything, instead you crawled to him and allowed once again the healer to take away your pain. Only this time it was a different kind than the physical one.
You missed your home, you missed your family, your brother. They were all so far from you, and who knew if you would ever see any of them again.
Minghao only held you, he didn’t ask questions, he only comforted that breaking heart in your chest.
After a while of crying in his arms, he had helped you look presentable, and for once you stepped out of your nightgown and instead wore one worthy of a queen. The silk was soft and hugged every bone on your body, caressed every scar. Because the curves that had once been on your body were gone.
Minghao didn’t say anything, he didn't wince and he didn’t comment on it, he was just there as silent support. In that moment it meant everything. The man before you wasn’t cruel, you had known from the moment you saw him, that he would never be.
The two of you had laughed as he fixed both your hair, and as he tried to make your eyes appear a little less red.
You had clinged to his arm when you had finally left the room, it had both been for support, since it had been a while since your legs had moved around that much, but also because everything in this new place scared you a little.
The palace was huge and soldiers that were lining all the hallways you passed down on were a constant reminder of what had led you to this moment. You had to keep reminding yourself that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they were here for protection, yet you couldn’t help but feel unease.
You grabbed on to Minghao’s sleeve a little tighter, and he laid his hands on yours to calm your nerves a little. He was a good man to have by one’s side. He told you everything there was to know about the palace, about its people.
“The surrounding city is beautiful, at some point I will have to show it to you” He said as he helped you down a flight of stairs. At the bottom a soldier opened the door, and there laid the garden.
It felt as if a phantom hand of pure sunlight gripped onto that little heart of yours, it felt like you could breathe again. The smell was that of flowers and vegetables, most likely from one of Woozi’s many gardens close to the kitchen.
Minghao smiled at you, and you bit your lip to not cry once more. It reminded you of the place you had always called home.
Not far away was a stream, and you had to restrain your mind to not run to it and slip beneath the no doubt cold water.
“It’s beautiful” you said as he led you over a small decorated bridge to the other side of the stream. There he found a bench, one one a small hill, one in the perfect center of the garden. The spot in the garden that would get the most sunlight.
Your hand explored the wood and the small carvings in it. It was those of both suns and stars, not the typical patterns of the night sky alone. In the middle of the back of the bench were a sun and a moon. Intertwined in one another, almost embracing.
A smile painted your lips.
“Do you like it?” Minghao asked curiously. Instead of answering with words you just nodded. Afraid that your voice would once again fail you. It was perfect.
“Good, now… You stay here and I’ll go fetch us some tea” he stepped away from you looking back at you once to make sure you didn’t panic. In the weeks you had been there, he had never left you alone.
All he found was you sitting on the bench, eyes closed, looking toward the sun. It was as if the Sungoddess herself had missed you, because as you turned your palms letting them face upwards the few clouds disappeared, and the sun itself almost seemed to shine brighter, as if it welcomed you.
You had no idea how long you sat there, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until you heard someone approaching. The steps he made seemed both curious and afraid all at once, as if you were prey he was afraid of scaring away. It seemed to be something the men in this kingdom had in common.
You opened your eyes and turned towards the sound, and there stood a man, more beautiful than any you had ever seen. He looked like a god himself, silvery hair flowing softly in the breeze, skin that looked pale and almost cold to the touch. His features were delicate, as if he had been sculpted from moonlight, one night centuries ago.
He sent a calm smile your way, and for some reason you couldn’t help but return it. He was familiar somehow. He was angelic in the way he moved towards you. He was, for lack of a better word, an otherworldly beauty that no doubt enchanted anyone he met.
“I’m glad to see you’re out of your quarters” He said as he came to halt not far away from the bench, almost as if he was testing the waters.
“I’m sorry sir, but have we met?” You asked. He drew you in and you couldn't help but turn your body towards him. It was as if fate itself were telling you that he held all the answers you had ever been looking for.
He smiled, and it made your heart beat faster in your chest.
“I was there that day. When they, when we, found you” he said and he almost hesitated to step closer. Yet he took one.
It wasn’t on purpose but you recoiled and moved further away from him, leaving a space next to you on the wooden seat. He, unlike what you had expected, never stepped closer.
“I'm sorry” You said as you looked towards your hands. At some point they had started shaking.
“Don’t be. Your reaction is understandable given everything you have been through” You looked up at him, and there was pain in his eyes. Almost as if he knew exactly what you had been through.
You didn’t say anything, and the silence lingered in the air.
“Is everything to your liking?” He asked after a little while. His feet moved a little closer, yet he never really took an actual step.
“It is” it was a short reply, one that didn’t invite him closer, one that would make any normal man turn around. But for some reason he stayed.
“Is Minghao good to you?” he asked, and by the mere mention of your new friend's name you perked up.
A sigh left your chest. “He is” and then you smiled. It wasn’t on purpose, in fact you tried to hold it back. But the reality was that Minghao was the only friend you had in this place, and even though you knew that he had been tasked with taking care of you, you kept trying to convince yourself that he in fact was a true friend.
“He feels familiar somehow…” and that was the truth, he did. At that the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, as if it agreed with you.
You sighed at the warmth that spread through your body, and when you looked back at the man, he smiled at you. As if it had been your task in a previous life to hang both sun and moon in its place in the sky.
“He’s a good man. Loved by everyone he meets” he said.
It wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but pick up on that.
“The two of you know each other?" He had, despite his sudden arrival, managed to peak your interest.
He laughed, and it was a louder sound than you had anticipated, yet it was the sound only angels seemed to be able to make.
“Yes, the two of us go way back. We grew up together”
Your smile widened at that. “So you must have stories then?” your head crooked to the side, and your eyes betrayed you, as the mischief shined through.
“I do” the man hesitated and took a deep breath. “Do you mind if I join you?”
It wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but look past him to where Mingaho had disappeared to, and it made him look back over his shoulder.
“He’ll be back soon, that much I can promise you”
At that you only nodded and moved a little further to the side, making room for him.
As soon as he sat beside you that familiar warmth you had felt previously seemed to seep into your bones. It wasn’t all consuming, but it was stronger than the one that Minghao seemed to radiate.
You whipped your head towards him. “It was you!” It wasn’t a question, but more a statement. “It was you who held me”
He seemed to release a breath at that. “Yes, it was”
He was the one who had lifted you from the ground, the one who had held you in his arms and carried you away from the woods.
You looked at your hands as you intertwined them with one another. “I remember your warmth”
He turned his body towards you, and for a second it seemed like he almost feared he had reacted that way. Yet he kept his body turned towards you.
“I think you might be one of the first people ever to describe me as warm”
A chuckle left you then. The sound was almost strange to your own ears. Had it really been so long since someone had made you laugh?
“You are though. You are warmer than most of the people here”
“You would know,” he said, as he made a gesture towards the sun.
And if anyone would, it would be you.
You had been raised in The Sun Kingdom. You were raised beneath the blazing sun, it was what fueled your magic, it was what your very soul craved. Warmth and light was what gave you power. And that power was strange in this land, it was foreign, it was hated.
“I’m sorry” you managed to say with a small voice.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw how his face instantly conveyed his emotions. It was nothing short of pure regret.
“No… No! That’s not what I meant” He leaned forward as he rested his elbows on his knees, trying his best to catch your eyes.
“It’s just that your magic is foreign. I’ve never experienced it, a light wielder like you” You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but he stretched out a palm towards you. Almost as if even the thought of your rejection made him reach out for you.
You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m a lightwielder anymore” you said as you looked straight towards the sun. It was an act that would blind the likes of him, but for you it was second nature. The sun was afterall the goddess that had given you power.
He moved a little closer. “You are…” his voice dripped in what felt like hope. “Minghao said it himself. He could feel it beneath your skin, he could feel it in your scars. As if light itself was what kept your injuries from taking your life”
You looked at him, you finally met his eyes at that. And they were the night sky come to life. They were darkness incarnate.
There was no telling how long you sat there, staring at one another, but at some point someone cleared their throat.
The action was all it took for the two of you to divert your eyes in a somewhat indiscreet manner.
And there stood Minghao, next to the captain that had been in your room a few weeks ago, tea tray in hand.
“I don’t hope we’re interrupting your majesty,” Minghao said as he raised a brow at the man.
Majesty.
You felt your cheek blush instantly as you looked at him, at the king, with wide eyes.
“Your Majesty? I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know” You tried standing up to bow to him, but he only raised a hand and that alone was enough to keep you in your place.
“To you, I’m Jeonghan. You are not a subject of mine, and although I appreciate the formalities, I think I could need a little light in my life. Something, someone, who could humble me. And I don’t know why, but I think that someone might be you”
And with that he rose from his seat.
“I won’t take anymore of your time. But I do hope to see you again, perhaps, same place and time tomorrow?”
He held out his hand to you, and although every bone in your body told you not to take it, you still did. He gave it a little squeeze and with that he went with the captain, leaving you and Minghao with your tea.
“What just happened?” The healer said as the two of you watched the two men walk away.
“I have no idea” and you really didn’t, because this had never been a part of the plan.
The following day Minghao once again led you to the garden, and the king, Jeonghan, was already sitting at the bench in the sunlight.
He rose from the seat as he saw the two of you approaching. Standing next to him was the captain. And this time you had a chance to really study him.
His eyes were hidden in a shadow from the helmet he wore as a part of the uniform, yet they seemed to hold some sort of familiarity despite the fact that they were lacking all life, they were lacking warmth.
Your brows furrowed as you studied the rest of the captain's face. His lips were slim, pressed in a straight line, and he stood as still as a statue. He was familiar, in a way that would make it hard to describe if anyone asked.
When you turned your attention to Jeonghan, he smiled brighter. It was contagious and you returned it, even though you had promised yourself that you would do your best to keep that heart of yours on a tight leash. To not daydream, but to be realistic.
“I’m glad that you came” he said as he took a few steps towards as you neared the little spot he had no doubt made for you in the garden.
Minghao pushed you towards his king with a gentle hand on the small of your back, slowly backing away to give the two of you some privacy.
Jeonghan sent him a grateful nod that the healer returned.
“I wanted you to meet my captain of my guard and armies” Jeonghan said as he gestured towards the man that you had just studied. “This is Vernon”
Vernon bowed shallowly at you, and those eyes of his never left you. He scanned you from top to bottom. Almost as if he was determining if you in any way were a threat to his king.
You returned his bow. “Good day Vernon”
His eyes flickered, as if the sound of you saying his name was enough to wake him from a trance. His lips parted slightly, an action that most would’ve never noticed. But you did. The two of you stood there, looking into each other's very souls.
Then he turned towards Jeonghan and gave him a deep bow, all before leaving the two of you alone as he joined Minghao.
Jeonghan gestured towards the bench, and as much as you wanted to turn around to study the captain further, you didn’t.
You sat down next to Jeonghan, and as your eyes locked to his, it was as if the whole world disappeared.
“I’m glad you decided to meet me today. I will admit I wasn’t sure if you would show up”
A little chuckle slipped out. “You are the king Jeonghan, would I have a choice?”
His smile fated at that. “With me, in my kingdom, you will always have a choice. I want you to be free here. Free to choose and do whatever it is that your heart desires. Even if that means not spending time with me”
“Well if that is the case” you stood, and you could see the disappointment on his face, almost as if you had caught him so off guard that he forgot to manage them.
You stretched out your hand towards him. “I would like for you to show me the rest of the garden”
The man perked up at that and quickly stood up beside you, extending his arm so you could grab on to it, just as you still did with Minghao.
The two of you walked around until the sun disappeared beneath the mountain tops and made the shadows long and dark. The darkness had a way of triggering you usually. It had been impossible to sleep in it after you had been rescued, yet when you were with him, it was almost as if they pulled back, as if to not disturb you.
“How do you like it here?” He asked as the two of you had sat down on one of the vegetable beds in Woozi’s garden.
“I love it here” You said as you looked towards the trees and bushes that stood tall and green close by.
“Everything is so lively, so fresh. The air is lighter and not as heavy as what I was used to back home”
“Do you want to tell me about your home?” He asked as he interlaced his fingers. His eyes watched you, scanned you for any sign of discomfort, and when he didn’t find any his brows seemed to relax.
You sighed gently. “I don’t know if there’s much to tell, it all seems so far away, as if it happened lifetimes ago”
Jeonghan didn’t speak, he just sat there, and it was a silent comfort. As if he was there as support in case you needed it. You didn’t know why, if it was the comforts of this palace, that it was because it seems to have happened so long ago, or if it was because he had asked, but you decided to share.
“I was raised outside of the walls of the castle, which wasn’t the custom of the nobility, but my father liked the feeling of not being cooped up. He also didn’t like the scheming and the manipulation that were everyday for those who lived in the castle. So he had built my mother a farm, one where she could have her horses and enjoy the space and fresh air. One where she could grow her vegetables”
You looked around at the garden beds and felt how you almost choked up by the reminder of her, of them. You hoped that they were safe, that they were okay. You pulled your legs a little closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees as you looked towards the king.
“We loved it there, it was home you know” you shrugged. “My brother used to tease me that some nobleman had to whisk me away from there, because if I had to be the one tending to the vegetables and making all of us dinner, if I was left in charge, then we would starve”
A little laugh escaped your throat, and Jeonghan joined you. “Not good at tending to things?” He asked in an almost teasing manner.
Your eyes found his and you saw the sparkle of mischief that shone there. You smiled at him, a wide genuine smile. It seemed like it had been years since you had smiled like that.
You shook your head no, and stayed silent after that. Your eyes jumped from the vegetables, to the trees and to the dark night sky.
“Where did you mind go just now?” he asked as he dared to move a little closer to you.
You took a deep breath. “I miss him”. Your breath shook when you released it.
Jeonghan smiled. “I’m sure you’ll see him again some day. Maybe we can figure out a way, to get your family here”
Another shake of your head. He let you sit there in silence, he didn’t pressure you, he didn’t push you to tell him, even if you could feel his curiosity.
“They took him fist” it was the only four words you could manage to get out. Jeonghan stiffened, as if he knew exactly what you were referring to. You hid your face in your hands which led to him, almost automatically, eliminating all space that was between the two of you.
“And when they didn’t get what they needed from him, that was when they came for you” he said silently, as if he already knew your story.
You raised your head and looked straight at him.
Delicately he removed a strand of hair from your face, all the while his thumb gently caressed your cheek.
It hadn’t been on purpose, but it had been so long since anyone had touched you like that, so nuzzled your cheek into the palm of his hand as you let a single tear loose.
He wiped that away too.
“You’re safe here,” he said, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes, you knew that he meant it.
“Excuse me, my King” a voice echoed through the small courtyard.
The two of you flew away from one another, before turning to the man who had managed to sneak up on you.
It was Woozi. “Dinner is almost ready, and I was wondering if the servants should set an extra plate at the table for you miss?”
He was more polite around the king than he was when it was only you and Minghao around. Which did make sense, yet you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
Jeonghan smiled at you. “What do you say, want to do me the honors and join me for dinner?” He stood up and extended a hand towards you.
You looked first at the hand, and then at him. You smiled as you reached out for it and let him take you to the dining hall.
It had become a tradition for you to eat dinner with Jeonghan since that night. Another tradition was that you in the mornings woke up the entire wing up with your screams.
The nightmares would be haunting anyone in your position, but you were getting so tired of screaming, of having to think back of all that you had lost.
Jeonghan had given Minghao the room next to you, to make it easier for him to be of assistance.
He was typically there by your side before you had even fully awakened. You cried and that morning the dream had been especially brutal, because that night it hadn’t been your nightmare, it had been his.
“It was just a dream” The healer kept repeating as he stroked your hair, and his words made you cry even harder.
“It’s okay, just get it out”
There was no judgement, only support in his voice. He had never specifically asked what had happened, something told you that he had his own reasons for not wanting to know.
After you had catched your breath, Minghao stood up and pulled the silk string, to tell the kitchen that the two of you were ready for breakfast. You did your best to gather your thoughts but the images flashed before your eyes every time you closed them.
Minghao had sat down in his chair as he silently watched you trying to comb your hair. The food came and he made the tea ready for the two of you, before sitting back down with his plate.
“Who’s Chan?” he finally said, and he watched you with almost sad eyes as he saw how you stiffened by the mere mention of his name.
You sat down your cup. “He was my brother, my twin” you lifted one of your shoulders, it looked almost like a shrug you had given up on.
The healer only nodded. “What happened to him?”
You played with your duvet, twisting the soft comforter around your fingers, as if you needed to occupy your hands.
“He was taken, just like I was. Apart from that I don’t know”
When you met Minghao’s eyes, he only gave you a tightlipped nod. It made you wanna continue and for once, actually open up.
“All I know is that he died years ago. I felt it, not that I felt what they did to him, but it was as if the world lost its light, lost its magic. Like it stopped spinning and everything ceased to matter”
Minghao sighed deeply. “It’s what gives me hope”
You looked at him with a raised brow. He leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his hands together, almost as if just speaking about it made him lose all his warmth.
“I have a twin too” he smiled, and you moved a little closer to him, not saying anything, just letting your new friend share his story, just as he always allowed you to do.
“His name is Junhui, but I always just called him Jun. He was a healer too, but he is better with the mental injuries than I ever was. A total mess when it came to the physical ones however” he chuckled and you smiled with him.
“I think he would like you”
“You think?” you teased back, and he nodded. “What happened to him?”
“He was sent on a mission to research sun storms. One of Jeonghan's scholars, Wonwoo, had read about them and he was interested in just what power they might have. He had apparently found something a year or so prior, but the work he did ended up blinding him permanently”
You sat completely still as you listened to his story. They had been looking for sunstorms. It was pure magic, one that like eclipse magic, came directly from the goddesses, but it was rare, so rare that there were really only prophecies and legends tied to it.
“You don’t say no when your king asks something of you, and he was eager for an adventure, had always wanted to see what laid beyond our borders, and this was his chance, so he went without a second thought”
Minghao looked to the ceiling in a desperate attempt to not let his tears fall.
“But he never came back, and he never reached out to say that he had found peace, that he was okay”
You moved closer and sat on the footrest in front of the chair. “Did Jeonghan do anything?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah he sent spies and soldier, but no one ever returned, and after the fifth time, he told me it would be best to just accept whatever had happened to him”
You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But I think he’s still out there, he has to be. Because as you say; I would’ve felt it in the world if he had been taken from me”
The tears finally fell and all you could do was embrace your friend as his heart broke. You felt and understood his pain more than any one else. Yet it was impossible for you to give him any kind of reassurance, it was impossible for you to tell him the two would meet again. But you so dearly wished that you could heal that heart of his. Maybe someday.
So instead you held him, just like your friends had held you when you had lost your brother.
Your talk with Minghao that morning had peaked your interest, and the mention of sunstorms and the scholar, had you wondering not only what the libraries had of hidden stories about your old kingdom, but what secrets might be found of the new one you called home.
It hadn’t taken more than just a simple question before Jeonghan had already arranged a date for him to show you around the massive place. And it was as beautiful and grand as any royal library.
He talked with passion about his forefathers, the magic system of his land and his people. He was excited to share, and you drank up any information that he gave you. Your mind was hungry, hungry for knowledge, and you were lucky that he wanted to give it to you so freely.
His hands lingered on the small of your back, an act that made your breath hitch every now and then. Every time it did you felt how the blush crept up in your cheeks and it earned you a smile from the King, one of pride and satisfaction.
“Last but not least, this is Wonwoo” Jeonghan said as they got to the end of the room, and true enough behind one of the desks sat a wide-shouldered man in dark glasses.
You bowed politely, even though the man had lost his vision. He smiled in return. “It’s good to finally meet you, welcome to my little slice of paradise” Wonwoo said as he gestured to the room.
“Wonwoo might be the smartest man in my kingdom” Jeonghan whispered in your ear, making you blush as his breath and lips caressed the shell of your ear.
“You’re being too kind, your majesty” the scholar said as he humbly lowered his head.
“I think i might have a new student for you” the king said as he pushed you closer to the man.
You stumbled a little as you looked back at him with what looked like a bit of annoyance and embarrassment.
“Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s only natural for a girl with your background to want more information”
There was no doubt that Wonwoo knew exactly who you were and where you had come from, but none the less it seemed like he had agreed to teach you.
And as the weeks went by, he did.
There was a constant stream of knowledge, about the stories of how the kingdoms had been split in two and about the prophecies about children born who would bring peace to said kingdoms. There were books upon books about politics, about the people of The Moon Kingdom and its history and how they had been ruled in millenia.
There were bits and pieces that you as an individual did not agree with, things you thought could’ve been executed better, but you only scribbled them in your notes instead of voicing them with Wonwoo.
You had learned after the first time you had voiced an opinion, that the man did not care for it. He had left without even entertaining you.
It had taken you a while to get comfortable with the blind man. He was, much like the laws of the Kingdom, strict and silent as the night itself. After that first question, you had quickly realized that there was no room for interpretations of the old text, there was no bettering them, because according to the scholar and his king, they had been written by smarter people than them, so there was no reason for anyone to change them. Men.
“Have you ever seen sunstorm or eclipse power?” You asked the man one afternoon.
He looked up from his book and stared at you. “Does it look like I can see anything?” he said in a stoic manner.
You rolled your eyes. “I assume that you haven’t always been blind?”
Wonwoo shut his book in front of him. “You’re getting more and more sassy as time goes by, aren’t you girl” he slung out the word as if it was an insult.
“You might be the Kings guest, maybe even his friend, but that does not give you the right to know about the secrets of this Kingdom”
You stuck out your tongue at him, and he sent you a stern look, as if he could see the gesture.
He waved a hand, dismissing you, and you were quickly out the door. Book in hand as usual, if he didn’t want to teach you about that kind of magic, you would just have to research it yourself.
That night you sat and poked to your dinner, the thoughts of eclipses and sunstorms was nothing short of a whirlwind in mind.
Wonwoo had only made you more curious, and unfortunately you had become more and more like your old self over the last couple of months. They had made room for you to be your true self, and it had made it all so much easier.
But that also meant that the stubbornness was slowly coming to the surface. And that part of you had always been an acquired taste.
Jeonghan looked at you as he chewed his food. He laid down his spoon before scooping your hand in his. It had become a gesture you had gotten so used to, that you didn’t even flinch. Instead you just intertwined your fingers with his, an action that always made him grin.
“What is it, my ember?” he had given you a nickname, it was a sweet and kind gesture, one that usually made Vernon make a face of discomfort.
You sighed. “I was at the library today…”
“As per usual” Jeonghan said, you reached out and gently hit his shoulder, it earned you a laugh from the king. He gestured for you to keep telling your story.
“And I asked Wonwoo if he had ever witnessed eclipse or sunstorm powers, but he refused to answer. He as good as insulted me instead” You pouted a little. But Jeonghan had gone quiet, stiff almost.
As soon as you noticed you leaned closer. “He has, hasn’t he?” You asked with a more quiet tone.
Jeonghan looked towards Vernon, who shook his head so little that most people wouldn’t even be able to notice the gesture, but as with everything the captain did, you noticed.
The King sighed. “I can’t tell you here” he let go of your hand and continued with the meal, and suddenly you had lost all appetite. You were desperate to learn more, especially when the scholar had refused to.
Jeonghan sighed, then he scooped up his plate, and took your hand, and pulled you along after him.
You laughed, and as you left the large dining hall, happy you had gotten your way. You looked back at Vernon with a victorious smile, but he looked devastated, broken almost, and the previous flutter of happiness were quickly morphed into a pit in your stomach.
The walk to Jeonghan's private balcony wasn’t long, but due to Vernon’s reaction to his king's willingness to discuss it all with you, it made you wonder if this secret really was one you wanted revealed.
You sat up at the stone reeling, and Jeonghan put his plate of food beside you, taking a bite before finally looking towards you.
He smiled, and crossed his arms before his chest.
“Many years ago my parents ordered one of their captains to kidnap a child from The Sun Kingdom. He was born in the nobility and the rumors in the court was that he would have sunstorm powers when he grew up. My dad decided that a power like that would be catastrophic to leave in the hands of our enemy”
You moved a little closer to him. Desperate to hear more. You had of course heard of the tale when you were a child. A child stolen in the castle at night. It was why your parents had decided to take Chan and yourself and leave the fortress behind. Your mother had been terrified that something would happen to the two of you as well.
“As the child grew, they… or I guess we, quickly realized that he did not have the sunstorm powers, but instead he had other gifts, talents. So we kept him close, raised him, molded him into a soldier. Some of his sunpower is suppressed, just enough to not make anyone too suspicious. But he is powerful. His flame is white like moonlight, and it burns unlike anything I have ever seen. It flame and shadow all at once”
Jeonghan smiled, and it was a dangerous and wicked thing. He was fascinated by the power, that was clear to see, he was proud that he had such a weapon at his disposal.
You nodded. “I’m glad that you kept him alive, that you found use of him. That you didn’t disregard him like” you sighed. “Like they did with Chan”
The king reached out for you, he held your head in his hands as his dark eyes searched yours. “I promise you my ember, that one day we will find those responsible for your brothers death, and when that happens, I will allow you to do whatever you wish to those monsters”
There was a glimmer there, in your eyes. You could see it reflected in his. It was a promise of destruction, of revenge. That day in the forest, when the two of you had met the first time. That day had been nothing short of fate, the goddesses themselves had let you to the man who would help you get your revenge.
He grinned, and you returned it.
One of his hands snaked around your neck and he pulled you closer to him, allowing your forehead to press against his.
“Everything you want to do is justified, I won't stand in your way for your revenge”
You smiled a little wider. “Well I guess that means I might need to start training then”
Jeonghan laughed then and pulled you from the railing, he pulled you close and your hands snaked behind the back of his neck.
“I guess it does”
He took your hand to lead you away from the balcony. “This child, or I guess he’s a man now, does he have the power of the eclipse then?” You asked as you slowly rested your head on Jeonghan's shoulder.
“We don’t know yet. There’s never been a recorded case of the eclipse power, at least not in my kingdom, but I think he might be the best bet” Jeonghan extended his arm to you, and you quickly took it.
“I guess that makes sense, a power like that would most likely get stronger as the years passed” You thought out loud, and Jeonghan only hummed in response.
“I’ve never heard of anyone with sunstorm powers, I know the legends say that they’re from The Sun Kingdom, but if he was from there and has eclipse powers, then maybe the sunstorm powers is something you’ll find in your own kingdom?”
“That could be, but I have it on good authority that , that is not the case”
You hummed. “I don’t know what your tales says about the eclipse powers, but I do know a little about what my old people said about the sunstorm powers”
Jeonghan pulled you a little closer, urging you to go on. You could feel the interest bubbling beneath his otherwise calm demeanor.
“It was said that one family would have their middle child carry sunstorm powers. But that if he was not protected, if he died, The Sun Kingdom would lose its right to the powers. The theory was that one from your kingdom would instead be blessed with them. In a similar way if you would fail to protect your eclipse power, then one from our Kingdom would gain the power”
You looked up at Jeonghan as you tightened your grip on his arm. He, however, was lost in thought, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
A smile spread on your lips as you let him have his thoughts all to himself.
All you had gotten was a place and a time. That and a new wardrobe for you to use for training, the fine silk dresses would make it a little difficult to move around like you would need to.
You stood there and waited. The room was completely empty. Not one soldier had shown up, and you wondered if it was because they had been ordered to stay away.
The hall was large, scattered with weapons and equipment. You admired it all, studying every little thing on the walls as you recalled how you would soon need to move and stretch your body to operate them.
Fighting had always been something you had loved to do growing up. Your powers had never been strong, they hadn’t been deadly as Chan’s had. They were a gift yes, but a common one of the people you belonged to.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault there aren’t people here. My men need the moonlight and the darkness to train with their powers, the sun will do them no good” Vernon said as he entered the hall.
He was in casual clothes, without his usual plates of armor. It was dark, and you finally had a chance to actually observe the captain. The two of you were alone after all.
He walked with confidence and there was something so elegant about the way he moved. It was as if he expected the ground beneath his feet to be there, not because it had always been the way of the world, but because he needed it there, and he expected it to comply with his wishes.
“Let’s see what you got” he still had a hat on, once again shielding his eyes from you. You furrowed your brows and he sighed when you didn’t follow his command.
“Show me that fire of yours” he said again, as if his first statement had been too difficult for you to understand.
You shook your head to release your mind from the thoughts that ran through it, as they always did when you looked at the captain.
You raised a palm and an orb of fire appeared a few centimeters above your palm. It had been a while since you had summoned it, so it was weak and kept flickering.
Vernon only nodded. There was nothing in his demeanor that indicated whether he was disappointed or impressed. He took a step aside and revealed a dummy who stood in the other end of the room.
He pointed to it. “That’s your target,” he said. You laughed a little, but the captain kept his stoic facial expression as he looked at you. You seemed to bore him more than anything.
“Are you serious?” You asked as the smile slowly disappeared from your lips. You raised a brow with the question, and he only nodded.
You tried your best, but the little fireball never reached close to the doll, it only came a quarter of the way before it plopped down on the ground, and went out.
Vernon released a huff of air, it was almost a grunt. “Pathetic” you heard him whisper beneath his breath. You sent another ball of fire towards the intended target, it got closer, but it was still no way near it.
Vernon crossed his arms over his chest as he shook his head with a smile on his lips. He was baiting you, you knew that he was. Everything he did, he did to get a reaction from you. And it was working.
It took you an hour and a half to get the little ball of light ¾’s of the way to the target, and at that point you were heaving for air. Your hair was damp, and your shirt was clinging to your back due to the sweat. You were exhausted, but you refused to give up.
The captain stepped in front of the target once again, almost as if he was shielding it from your so-called attacks. “We’re done for today”
Your hand fell to your side and the fire went out. “What? But I didn’t even get to-”
He held up a hand to silence you, and the mere gesture was enough to light a fire under your ass.
“I needed to know how much you are capable of, what you can do when well rested and how it looks when your reserves are starting to run dry”
You looked down at your hands as you once again tried to summon the fire, but nothing came when you called. The fire was out, there was nothing left, and he had known before you had
You furrowed your brows as your legs gave out under you.
“You’re exhausted” Vernon said as he came to your side, a sack of water in his hands, one he quickly passed to you. “And you’re hanging on to rage”
The sack was as good as empty when you replied. “Isn’t that a good thing?” It was a question you didn’t expect him to answer. Your tone was annoyed, sharp, and if anyone had spoken to you like that, you would’ve left them to deal with their temper tantrum alone.
“It’s not,” he said before he sat down beside you. He held out his hand, his palm facing the ceiling. “Anger is a fleeting emotion. Sure, it’s a strong one, but it loses power over time, it has no real anchor point. Anger can give you an instant surge of power, but what I want from you, what I want to teach you, is to dig deep, and find that one emotion or memory that brings you peace”
A bright ball of pure white light appeared in his hand, it was blinding, and when you wanted to look away from it, Vernon did a small flicker of his finger, and the ball flew from his palm to the target, the mere impact causing it to light up in what almost looked like silver flames.
Despite your exhaustion you were at your feet in an instant. You looked at the flame like light for no more than a split second, and then they were gone, as if they had in fact never existed and so was the target, there was nothing left.
“How did you do that?” You turned to him, and you could feel the joy and excitement that roared through your body. It had been so long since you had experienced even something similar to his power.
Vernon stood, a small smile on his lips, one you had never seen on his lips before. “I use a memory, of the people I love most in this world, of my home and my family”
Despite the fact that his eyes were hidden in shadow, you could’ve sworn you saw a shimmer and a sparkle in them by the mere mention of said memory. That is new.
You smiled at him. “Okay, let’s meet again tomorrow” You reached out to give the captain your hand, and as quickly as his smile had appeared, it was gone again.
Vernon turned on his heel and walked towards the door. “Same time tomorrow, Spark” he stopped in his tracks. As if the name he had just given you had come as a surprise to even him.
A warmth spread through your body, and you felt your breath hitch. In that moment all you wanted was to run up to him, force him to say that again. But you couldn’t, it was as if his words had nailed you to the ground.
You would be there tomorrow, you would learn everything he wanted to teach, to get stronger, and hopefully at some point, the captain would trust you enough to finally tell you who he was.
The next few months were a series of the same routine over and over again. The mornings you spend with Minghao, getting breakfast, drinking tea in the garden, slowly healing both your mind, your body and your soul.
The thoughts of the kidnapped child Jeonghan had told you about had never left your mind, you looked for any indicator of a man who was even remotely different to his peers, wherever you went on the castle grounds. You studied every soldier, nobleman and servant, yet he was nowhere to be found.
Or else they had managed to completely suppress the Sun side of him, maybe he was hiding in plain sight. You did have your theories of course, but at that point in time they were nothing more than that. And you did after all have more pressing matters to attend to.
After lunch you would train with Vernon, slowly building up your stamina and your muscles. As each day passed you could run faster, hit harder and summon more and more fire. The fire got easier to control, to throw and to master. You knew it would take time to master and you didn’t mind the work that much, it gave you a purpose, a goal to work towards.
The evenings were spent with Jeonghan, taking walks throughout the castle, having him teach you the way of his land and its magic. The two of you had dinner every night, growing closer, more intimate. And typically the two of you would end up on a couch in the library, each a book in hand, limbs intertwined.
The king would pull you as close to him as humanly possible whenever he thought you had fallen asleep. It was a gesture that warmed your heart, that made you feel a sense of pride. He would cradle you in his arms, and carry you back to your quarters where he would tuck you in, on those nights where you had no energy to get up yourself.
Everyone knew that he wanted you by his side, that his heart had come to belong to you and you alone. It was something Woozi and Minghao teased you with each morning, something that made you roll your eyes at them, all while secretly wishing they were telling the truth.
He never acted on those desires. His hands always lingered, his eyes shone like the stars in the sky, yet he never expressed his emotions. People always said actions spoke louder than words, and normally you would agree.
But Jeonghan wasn’t no ordinary man, he was a king and a ruler. There were laws about who he was allowed to love. There were advisory boards and nobility families that had to be appeased in any match of his. And as much as you sometimes wish the stars would align for the two of you, you also knew that, that was nothing more than a childish dream.
After breakfast and tea one morning, Minghao and Woozi had both asked if they could accompany you to your training with Vernon, and since you had gotten better, you saw no reason for them not to watch along.
The pair took a seat against one of the walls and when Vernon walked in, they both waved at him, he looked taken aback at the spectators. Some part of you was a little afraid that he would scold you for bringing them along, so you went up to him as he gathered the things he would need for that day's lesson.
“I hope you don’t mind, they asked if they could come and I-”
“It’s fine” he cut you off.
It had been your hope that he would slowly open up to you, but that hadn’t been the case, on the contrary. It seemed like he took one step back, every time you tried taking one forward.
The nickname that had slipped out at your first training also hadn’t made an appearance again since. Some days you even thought you had imagined him saying it.
You nodded and found your place in the middle of the room. You had hit the target more and more over these past few weeks, your orbs of fire got faster with each passing day, which only meant you got more and more confident in your abilities.
Vernon stepped in front of the target, and you waited for him to give you orders. But the man stood still, and he didn’t say a word.
A small tilt of your head and a raised brow was enough of a question for him to reply.
“Since you’re so confident in your own abilities that you’ve gathered an audience, you will be training with a moving target today, a target that fights back”
Your mouth opened in chock. “But we’ve never done that before” was all you said.
He smiled sinisterly. “We have to try it some time, so why not now?” Vernon summoned his own power and threw it at you.
It took you a second to realize what he had planned, so when you moved you could feel the cold that ebbed from that bright white light, so close to your face that it almost knocked the air out of you.
“In the goddesses' names, have you lost your mind?!” you yelled back at him.
Vernon only shrugged. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Minghao rise from where he was sitting.
“What?” was all Vernon said, as he threw another white ball of light your way. This time you had seen it coming and quickly retaliated.
“Not bad” Vernon said after he had avoided your counter attack. It didn’t even get close to hitting him. “If what you wanted to hit was nothing I mean”
Two of his lights flew your way, and you ducked and rolled out of their path before shooting fire his way, this time it was more a stream of it, instead of small blasts. He was getting under your skin, he was baiting you once again, as he had done so many times.
“Are you getting mad?” He asked, and you could’ve sworn you saw one of his eyes sparkle in their usual shadows.
“No” you responded in a stern voice, he only laughed coldly.
“We’ve talked about this, find a memory, of something or someone you love”
Another blast flew from his hands, one of which almost hit your shin.
Your chest heaved for air, you felt how you were slowly running out of energy, how your magic was draining as you desperately tried to keep up with the captain.
He stopped and crooked his head to the side as he watched you, as a predator watched its prey.
“What’s the matter? Don’t have anyone you love? Or have they all just decided to leave you behind?” He spat out the words and you felt your whole body go cold.
You didn’t even think, instead you pulled every bit of sun and fire that were in your veins, you summoned every spark inside of you, even those who hid out in the darkest depths of your soul.
Rage over took you and as you prepared to attack the captain, Minghao yelled out Vernon’s name, not in warning of your attack, no he hadn’t noticed your stance. He yelled out in protest, he yelled out on your behalf, to put the captain in check.
And as you threw every bit of sun magic you had inside of you, Vernon's way, he was caught off guard because of the voice of both of your friend.
The fire flew from your hands before you even had a chance to rail it back in, it travelled faster than it had done in any previous training sessions with the captain. But he didn’t notice, as his eyes were still looking at Minghao.
All you could do was scream, and you did, you screamed your own nickname for him.
“Sol!” It was a broken sound, one that bounced off the walls of the training hall. Even after the fire had found its mark.
The fire hit him hard, it hit him before he had a chance to jump out of its path, and it knocked him off his feet and threw him to the floor before it engulfed him in flames.
You ran to him, and when you were halfway across the room you heard him. He didn’t scream in pain, as they usually did, he didn’t yell. The captain of the guard was laughing.
It stopped you in your tracks, and you gaped at the man as he slowly sat up, all the while your fire danced around him and his skin, it was as if you were watching a curious creature welcome an old friend it hadn’t seen in years.
And you felt your heart stop in your chest, you felt how the memories that had been hidden away somewhere within you, all came back to you. You remembered the nickname, his and your own. You remembered everything.
You felt how your knees wobbled, how they gave out beneath the realization of who you had been standing before all these weeks, these months.
Vernon was quickly on his feet, and as your flames went out, he quickly barked an order to both Minghao and Woozi to get out, and despite some hesitation they did.
As the door closed behind your friends you looked to him, and for the first time he smiled at you. It was awkward, as if there was fear hidden behind it.
“I’m sorry, but I just… I needed to see what would happen if you attacked me” He took a hesitant step towards you.
The man before you was no captain of the guard, he was not a soldier, it was a man that resembled a boy, a boy that was terrified of the possible rejection that laid on his path.
“When did you know?” You looked at him with tears in your eyes, your chin vibrating with both happiness and sorrow intertwined.
He shrugged. “Since you got here I think. I couldn’t place why I felt so protective over you, why I was looking for dangers that might attack you and not the king, whenever you were in the same room. It’s not normal for me to be that unfocused”
He looked at his hands as he slowly pulled at his fingers.
“What are you doing here Spark? We both know you aren’t safe anywhere, not while he is still alive. Besides, since when do you leave Chan's side for more than a day?”
He chuckled and you furrowed your brows at his statement.
“You don’t know…?”
“Don’t know what?”
How you hadn’t realized it sooner was beyond you. You reached for him, arm stretched towards him. He moved towards you instantly, sitting down beside you on the floor. Pulling you close to him. You allowed him to hold you for a few minutes before you were gonna destroy the hope you felt lingered in his heart.
“I can’t believe this is actually real. You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this”
A single tear fell from his eyes, it was one of happiness, and you couldn’t help but smile. You rested a hand on his cheek as you made him look at you. He hesitantly reached up and removed that damned hat.
As expected, his eyes were a perfect match to your own, hidden in darkness so that no one would find out that the captain was in fact not from this kingdom, but from yours. The child that was kidnapped in the night so many years ago.
The only difference was a slight silver ring around his pupils, as they had always been.
“Hansol” you said and he smiled, it had probably been years since someone had called him by his given name.
You stroked his cheek, and the smile on his lips disappeared.
“Who?” he asked in a serious voice.
“Chan” You said.
He pulled away from you and held your hands in his. He shook his head. “No, no it can’t be. If he was gone I would’ve known. If he was gone they would’ve told me!”
“Hansol… It’s why I’m here” He froze at that. As the puzzle pieces seemed to click into place, he went pale.
“You want revenge…” he said as he swallowed once, twice.
You nodded.
“What if he find-”
“He won’t” you said, there was no reason to put it out into the universe.
Hansol pulled you even closer to his chest as he silently rocked you back and forth as your mother always had.
“Please just let it go, I just got you back, I can’t lose you too” he buried his head in the crook of your neck.
“I promise you won’t lose me, even if the goddesses claim me before my time, then I’ll be by your side, just as I’m sure Chan is by ours”
The two of you held each other, and if it had been possible for human eyes to look behind the veil of your own world, the two of you would’ve seen the missing piece to both of your lives embracing you both. The soul of Chan, still lingering by your sides.
The missing petal of a fire clover, the middle brother of your sibling flock of three. For the longest time you had thought you had lost both of your brothers, you were happy to find out you still had one left.
The workouts with Hansol had suddenly gotten a lot more fun. You enjoyed each other's company, you shared memories and stories with him about your parents, and he shared stories about his life in the castle you now both called home.
You told him about the day you had lost Chan, how it had felt as if the sun itself were shedding a tear over the loss of one of its most precious children.
He never asked about the cave, how you had ended up there. Something told you he knew exactly what had happened after the death of your brother.
Jeonghan had noticed the change in you and his captain, and to your surprise it pleased him. On one of your evening walks he decided to open up a little more than he had done previously.
“Vernon is a menace. He’s strong, stoic and powerful. But I grew up with him” he smiled as he looked up at the stars, they reflected in his dark eyes and for a second it looked as if they were the true night sky.
Even after all this time he still managed to take your breath away.
“He never really had any friends because… Well never mind that” he shook his head. “But neither had I”
You raised a brow. “So are you telling me your highness that no one wanted to befriend the future king?”
Jeonghan laughed and pulled you closer to him. Your heart started beating faster at the sheer proximity.
“Of course they did, but for all the wrong reasons. The children had been ordered by their parents to befriend their future king, not because they actually liked me, but because it could mean a secure future for their house”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on children” You only said.
Jeonghan hummed. “Unfortunately it’ll be one… my children will inherit one day aswell”
You pulled away from him at that. It was the neutral thing to do when rejection was staring you in your face.
“My ember…” He said as he reached out for you.
You gave him a polite smile. “It’s okay. I should get back to my cambers anyways, it’s getting late, and what would the nobility think if they saw their king with someone like me”
“Please” was all he managed to say as he moved with you, desperate to have you close to him, even when you tried to remove yourself from him.
“Your majesty” was all you said before turning from the king.
You wanted to know more about Hansol's story. But how could you listen to it when he so blatantly had rejected you?
His kids, his kids he would have with someone that wasn’t you. There was no other choice than to leave him, anyone in love would be devastated by those words.
All you could do was hope that he would be just as devastated by how you removed yourself from him, that he would change the rules, that he would convince them that you were the queen this kingdom needed.
But that was a childish dream.
The morning after Minghao came to your chamber. It was later than usual.
“No nightmare?” He asked as he looked at you from his chair, all the while you prepared the tea for once.
You just shrugged. “Why would I need a nightmare when I’m living in one?” You hid behind your hands dramatically.
Minghao leaned forward in his chair and reached out for you. “What are you talking about?”
You turned on your heel and looked at him. His eyes were large with concern although he was smiling. You knew that he would protest when you told him, you knew he would do his best to change your mind about the decision that had been brewing in your head since last night.
“I think I might need to move out of the castle” you said as you bit your lip.
He was up in an instant. “And who gave you that stupid of an idea?”
You shrugged, because how were you to tell the healer that it was because of his king? It was getting too difficult. You knew that Jeonghan felt something towards you, yet he refused to act on it, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were getting impatient.
If he could not give you what you wanted, what your soul craved, you would have to find someone who could.
Minghao looked at you with eyes that seemed to look right through you. “How about we switch it up a bit then?”
You turned your body to face him. “Switch it up, how?”
The man smiled. “Well I’m pretty sure Jeonghan has set up an account for you, so how about we go on a bit of a shopping spree?”
Minghao raised a brow as he smirked at you.
A high pitched sound left your mouth. The silk dresses you had been parading around in were beautiful, and you were more than grateful, but they were in colors that did not match your complexion even a little bit.
He laughed at your reaction. “Finish your food and we’ll go out to town okay?”
Instead of answering you quickly began stuffing food into your mouth.
The city was beautiful, the streets were filled with little shops and cozy cafes. It was almost as if you had been transported back to when you were still a child. Transported back to a time where you had no expectations, nor worries.
Minghao understood what the latest styles were, and he knew exactly where to find the shops that were worthy of bringing it all to life. The two of you were laughing and feeling your best as you left the third shop of the day, bags in hand with smiles painted on your faces.
You crossed over a plaza where two girls stood in the middle and sang a song. Their voices bounced off the walls and made a natural echo. It sounded as if the two archangels had decided to let their voices flow.
It stopped you completely in your tracks, yet you seemed to be the only one.
“It’s beautiful” You said, almost breathless.
Minghao nodded as he let out a small hum.
“How come we’re the only one listening in?” You looked at your friend and saw him open his mouth once, he had a pained expression.
“They are here every day, trying to collect coins to help their parents gather enough to pay the tithe”
The healer looked almost embarrassed.
“Tithe” you said as you looked down at the bags you held in your hands, the bags filled with silk, lace and stones expensive enough to feed a family for years.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had read of the tithes in the library, read of how every family was expected to pay a certain amount to the nobles, to sustain their way of living. But you had expected it to be an old system, one that was not upheld any longer.
“Minghao… We need to return all of this”
He looked at you with sad eyes. “There’s nothing that you can do for them”
Your head whipped towards him. “By the goddesses, of course there is”.
When every dress and every piece of jewelry had been returned, you approached the two girls, and said that you would love to meet their parents.
They had taken you down small and dirty pathways of the city, down allies filled with filth, next to people that all looked like they were on the brink of starvation. It felt like a knife was twisting in your heart.
This was not how it should be, this was not how it could be. People could say what they wanted about the sun king, and you could say more than most, but no one in The Sun Kingdom was left to fend for themselves like this.
You had given the girl's parents a pouch of gold, and told them that if their girls ever needed anything, that all they needed was to send word for you.
Their mother had wept, and their father had thanked you profusely.
Then they let you to the next family, another that like them needed the help, and you helped them as well.
You went from door to door through the slums, in the shadows of the castle that you had been cooped up in for months while people starved. You had not known, but you knew now, and it was about time that someone did something for these people.
“Are you a princess?” a little boy had asked as his mother had told him that they could finally afford food.
“No little one, I’m just a little light in the dark”
When you returned to the castle that night Minghao had hugged you a little tighter than usual. “Thank you” he had said with tears in his eyes.
You had only kissed his cheek as a response.
That night you slept peacefully.
Jeonghan had been busy after the day you and Minghao had spent in the city. He was running to and from meetings, and for the first time since he had invited you to join him for dinner, he hadn’t shown up.
It broke a part of you, you thought that you meant more to him than you did, you thought that you knew the king better than that, you thought…
It didn’t matter what you thought, you were wrong and that meant you had to plan accordingly. You had spent your days in the sun in the garden, scribbling away in a notebook, trying to decide what would be the best way forward.
You saw him out of the corner of your eye, yet you chose to ignore him. Two could play this game.
“My ember” he said as he stood next to the bench, the bench that he had made for you. You laid down your pen and took a deep breath.
“Please, leave me alone” Your voice cracked a little and you knew that he smiled at that.
“Let me explain,” he said as he sat down.
You closed the notebook with a loud thumb. “Why should I? You left me, left me alone” It wasn’t on purpose but you sounded so small, so fragile.
“No, I promise you, I didn’t leave you”
You looked at him, you saw his apologetic eyes, all while all that he saw was disdain for his actions.
“You did”
He shook his head and reached out for your hand. “No, I’ve been planning, I’ve been negotiating, I’ve been talking to my advisors. I’ve even been talking to my subjects”
Your eyes perked up at that. He nodded. “Yes, they had a lot to say about you, my ember. They hold a love for you, one that I’ve never had, a love that no ruler of this kingdom has ever had. They’re calling you their princess”
A smile blossomed on your lips then. They had all been kind, so kind and with open hearts and open homes. It had been a pleasure to walk among them.
“So why did you…” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as he slowly kneeled down before you.
“Because they’re right, a woman like you, one as kind and as beautiful deserve a title, you deserve to rule, to make this kingdom better than it has ever been”
Your heart swelled.
“You deserve a crown, but I do not want them to call you princess” he shook his head as he smirked, it was a nervous smile, but it was there. “I want them to call you queen, and I want you to be my queen”
At that he pulled out a small round box, as he opened it it revealed a stone as dark as the night sky in a silver setting.
A scream was all you could think to let out. Then you tackled the king to the ground as you repeated: “Yes!” over and over again.
Jeonghan laughed as he pulled you close to his chest.
It was a night worthy of remembering, it was a celebration of your engagement and everyone who mattered in your new life was there, and most importantly Jeonghan was right by your side.
He held your hand with the ring all through the dinner, and every now and then you would catch him, as he stared at you when you admired it.
He was so soft, so gentle around you, and it was a feature you adored, it was what had made everything so easy. His love made it all so easy.
“A toast!” he said at one point as he raised himself from the chair where he had been sitting all night. That was the first time that night he let go of your hand, but now his eyes, those dark eyes were fixated on you and you alone.
It was something you would never get used to, the way he observed you and looked at you with such love and adoration, you didn’t know how you had been this lucky. This lucky that he was the one who found you, that he had been as smitten with you, as you had wanted him to be and that this incredible kingdom of his had chosen to accept you as their queen.
You smiled.
“For you, my beautiful bride. My queen. You are the one thing I could’ve never predicted, and you’re the one thing I never knew I needed. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my li-”
He was interrupted by yells on the other side of the ballroom door. Hansol was up and out of his chairs in a split second. Ready to protect his king, and now ready to protect you as well.
The doors flew open and in walked the three people you would’ve never expected to crash your engagement dinner. The first one to enter was Hoshi, the last tiger, which was what they had always called him.
He was the general in The Sun Kingdoms army. He was known for how he made loyal soldiers that were impossible to break, even under intense torture. He was strict, and if one were to believe the books in Wonwoo’s library, his soldiers feared his wrath more than death itself.
After him followed Seungcheol, the royal guard captain. He was stoic, sharp and all around intimidating. He was the man who handpicked the best of Hoshi’s men, to join in protecting their king. Not a single emotion was to read on his face, it was as if he had cut himself completely off of every single one of them. In this moment he was a weapon and nothing more.
You knew he was coming, you knew he was the only one in the whole kingdom that would travel with both of these men with his side as companions, yet you hadn’t been prepared to see the man. The king that had first led you into that cave so long ago.
King Mingyu stepped in and looked first at the man you were soon to call your husband, and then he looked at you. He nonchalantly took his hands and rested them on his belt, the very belt where both daggers and swords hung. Daggers that had helped cut you open.
You gribbed the sides of your chair and bore your nails into the tree. You wanted to run, you wanted to look away from him, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You wanted him to see how far you had come. Despite the tears in your eyes and the sobs that slowly clawed their way up your throat, you refused to divert your eyes from him.
There was a promise in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in so long, one that made your whole body shake.
“Well well well…” the broadshouldered Sun King said as he smirked. The two soldiers were not far from him. They looked to one another with lazy smiles, almost as if it had been nothing to cut their way into the castle.
And looking at them, and the way nothing seemed out of place, it properly had been as easy for them to cut through Vernon’s men as it were for any other mortal to cut through butter.
“Looks like you’ve come far from our cave my light” Mingyu said as he looked at you scanning you from top to bottom.
You tried steadying your breathing but it was near impossible. You had tried your best to forget him, to push him to the back of your mind, but no matter how much you trained, how much you laughed and smiled, it was as if he was always there, in the back of your mind, lingering.
Your heartbeat picked up as you tightened your grip on your chair, you knew it hurt, but your body couldn’t seem to focus on the pain. He was the only thing you saw.
Hansol looked back at you for a split second, almost as if he could sense something was going on, as if he could sense your distress.
Hoshi growled at him, almost to see what the statue of a man would do. To Hansol’s credit he didn’t move a muscle.
“She does no longer belong to you” Jeonghan spat out, he was mad, and most likely embarrassed.
Mingyu only smiled a little wider as he raised a brow. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that” He took a step closer to the king. “Something tells me that I’m always there in the back of her mind”
He took another step.
“Tell me Moon King, does she scream my name every night?”
He hit a nerve with that comment.
Jeonghan whipped his head towards you, as if Mingyu’s comment reminded him that you were in fact in the room, and there he found you, complete and utter broken. The tears fell from your eyes as your face twisted in what seemed like physical pain.
“Vernon, take her away” His voice was low but due to the complete and utter silence in the hall it carried to you as well.
You looked up at the captain as you shook your head, a silent plea to please let you stay. To let you be by your lover's side just a moment longer.
The hall darkened, and you saw how Mingyu pulled his sword out and flung it around a few times as he lit the blade on fire without even blinking.
The fire was strong and it warmed up the hall instantly.
Hansol grabbed on to you then and pulled you towards the nearest door. You kicked and you screamed, nothing left your mouth but the word no. A plea to the kings to please stop whatever they were thinking of doing.
What if he would end up hurt? What if something happened before you had a chance to tell him just how much you loved him?
Jeonghan pulled a sword from one of the shadows, and just before the door closed, you saw the two kings jump at one another aiming their swords for lethal blows.
When you heard the click of the door shutting behind you, you became limp in the captain's arms. He quickly pulled you over his shoulder before taking the stairs two steps at a time and getting you back to the safety of your room.
He sat you on the bed and tried getting into contact with you, you could see his face in your field of vision. Yet you couldn’t hear his voice. It was as if you were under water, because his mouth moved but you heard nothing.
Hansol gently placed his hands on your cheeks and forced your eyes to meet his, and as soon as those familiar colors met yours. You broke.
He was quick to catch you, and it didn’t matter that you had basically slammed your head into the metal plate of his uniform, because you just needed someone to hold you. And he did, he held you close and stroked your hair gently as he pulled you close to him.
“It’s okay, he’s gonna be okay, he’s the fiercest swordsman to walk this planet, he’s gonna be just fine. Just you wait and see”
You ended up in his lap as he gently rocked you, just as he had done that day when the two of you had found your way back to one another. He held you as you wept, he held you as a brother who wished he could take away all of your pain.
A part of you wished that he would just get it over with, a part of you wished that he would cut the king down where he stood.
It didn’t matter that you got your revenge, it didn’t matter that there would be consequences. As long as he no longer breathed, as long as you could be by your love’s side, as long as you could finally get married.
Not long after you heard the footsteps on the stairs. You curled yourself around the captain as he pulled at his sword, and much like Mingyu had done, he let his silver flame coat its sharp edges.
The door was pulled open and Jeonghan stepped in.
You felt Hansol hold his breath beneath you, and he gently let down his sword, before slowly pushing you away from him. Some part of your soul didn’t want to part with him, but the part that needed to know that he was okay, won the battle in the end.
Jeonghan gently took you from his captain's arms. He looked you over with worried and scanning eyes. He looked okay, he didn’t look hurt.
“What happened?” You asked, eyes scanning for the smallest of answers.
“He wanted you returned to him. I refused”
You felt how your chin started to slightly vibrate, as you let your emotions run freely. The tears kept falling.
“Shhhh” he cooed. “It’s okay, I’m okay”
You were holding him tightly, and you almost couldn’t get yourself to ask what had happened to the three intruders. Were they gone, had he taken their lives or were they on the run?
“Where are they?” Hansol said as he stepped closer to the windows, carefully observing the walls around the castle, scanning them and the woods that you could clearly see from your chambers.
Something told you he would be having a harsh conversation with his men later that evening. His blades were not bloodied during this fight, but there was no doubt that his king needed someone to be responsible for ruining a night that should’ve been a celebration.
“I don’t know, they were gone in a flash of light” Jeonghan pulled you a little closer to his chest.
“I’m so sorry my ember, I promised you that he couldn’t get to you here. I’m so sorry i broke that promise”
You sobbed a little harder, and he rested his cheek on the top of your head.
“He was here…” You cried.
“I know” was all the Mon king said as he stroked your hair.
“He was right here”
It almost sounded like screams, the sounds you made as you felt your soul being torn apart once again by the mere sight of him.
“I want whoever is responsible for this punished” Jeonghan said as he looked to your brother, to his captain.
Hansol was just about to step out of the room when he said: “Vernon, I want their heads”
He was cold, he was the king you had always heard stories about when you were a child and he was only a prince.
A prince that had never accepted mistakes, had now become a king without mercy.
As the door shut behind you he pulled you away from him, he gently led you to the bed and sat you down on it.
Jeonghan took a few deep breaths, urging you to follow the rhythm he set, and you did.
After a few minutes your head seemed clearer, more set on the goal than it had ever been.
“I will kill him for this, my queen. I will slay him where he stands for how he had made you both cry and scream”
You shook your head. “No, I want to be the one to put the dagger in the heart of the king who killed my brother”
Jeonghan smirked before he rested his forehead against your own, gently rubbing his nose against yours.
“I can't wait to marry you” he whispered. You smiled at that, neither could you, the day better come quickly, because you had business to attend to.
Jeonghan had insisted on sleeping in the chair in the room that was usually reserved for Minghao, it was a sign of respect he had said.
His kingdom had other rules on how men and women interacted with one another, when they weren’t married, it was also why he hadn’t as much as kissed you yet.
And with everything you had been through, with all you had loved and lost, you didn’t mind that the intimacy suddenly came after the wedding.
So he had laid there, and just as the healer always did, he had dosed off long before you were even close to sleep.
He meant well, you knew that, he was there for protection, but were you ever safe in that castle you had gotten so used to calling home?
You stood from the covers and went over to the window, and looked out at the world beyond the walls that surrounded the castle.
You looked out at the woods, and somewhere between the trees you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of sunlight, calling you to it, begging you to return home.
Instead of listening to it you just bit your lip and returned to bed, hoping your sleep would be dark and for once without dreams. You couldn’t bear the heartbreak of seeing him twice in one day.
Jeonghan woke you the next morning with breakfast in bed. You didn’t mind that he was the one who did it, but it was strange to suddenly have a different routine.
You hadn’t noticed how much you had gotten used to your day starting with the healer and the cook. Eating your breakfast together had become such an integrated part of your routine.
It gave you a sense of normalcy, one that would definitely be gone as soon as you were wed.
The two of you ate in silence, and for some reason it felt natural.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as he took a sip of his tea.
A nod was all the reaction he got, as you slowly chewed the remaining food in your mouth.
He laughed a little at that, which earned him an eye roll.
“I’m okay, I just… I couldn’t sleep, and I was wondering if you could take me somewhere?”
Jeonghan moved a little closer to you then, gently took your hand in his own, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.
“You just say the word and I’’ll have someone prepare our horses”
A sigh was released from your lungs then, and for a second you wondered if he would in fact grant you this wish.
“I want you to take me back to the woods, I want you to show me where you found me that day”
Jeonghan looked at you with serious eyes, and just as it looked like he was ready to deny your request, something in those cold eyes of his, softened.
He stood from the bed and went over to the large wardrobe that stood in the room, he then started to pull out a set of riding leathers.
When he stopped he went over to you and pulled you into his chest. “When I say I would deny you nothing, I mean it”
Your heart swelled at that.
The ride was relatively short, almost as if someone had been pushing you in the right direction of The Night Kings castle that day.
“My men found you first” Jeonghan said as he swung free of the saddle of his large black stallion.
“Vernon said that it had looked like you had been running all night” he held out a hand for you to take as you followed him.
He pulled you tight into him, as if the memory of you being so broken and weak, broke his heart anew.
“You were strong, I knew that from the first time I saw you. You were a warrior, one who had fought your way to freedom, one who had looked into the eyes of death and had lived to tell the tale”
You held him a little closer, and the extra contact with your body seemed to loosen the muscles in his brows. Almost as if your touch were a reminder that you were safe with him now. You smiled.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving me” You said as you stopped in a clearing.
He slowly rested a hand against your cheek. “I didn’t save you, you saved yourself, my ember. I just lend you a helping hand”
The way he spoke was beautiful, and you appreciated it more than he would ever know, that he didn’t see you as this broken and frail thing, but as a survivor, a warrior.
It was a blessing that you could be yourself with him, that you didn’t need to make your sharp edges blunt to be loved by him.
Jeonghan made a gesture with his head towards a small patch of flowers among the leaves.
You released yourself from his side, as you made laps around the small white daisies on the forest bed.
“I sent out one of my soldiers with flower seeds that day, to mark the place that we found you”
You did a quick turn as you looked at your fiance with disbelief written all over your features. “Jeonghan, why would you even do that?”
It was a simple question, one you almost knew the answer to, but you wanted him to say it out loud.
He only shrugged. “I don’t really know, I guess some part of me knew that you were meant to be mine, that our destinies were intertwined”
The two of your destinies had been intertwined long before the two of you had even met. It made you smile.
“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me, especially after yesterday”
It wasn’t on purpose, but your smile disappeared at the thought of him, of the fight between the two kings.
You sat down on your knees and inspected the little daisies that laid there. You ran your fingers over the ground, touched each petal. A silent thank you for this gift that Jeonghan had once again given you.
“A sculpture of you is being made as we speak. I want it raised right here, so that all of our subjects can come here and pay their respect to their queen. So that they can hear the story of how you fought, how you escaped and how it led you to be their queen”
There was no doubt that the man in front of you loved you. You didn’t know exactly why that was, but he did, and maybe it was time for you to give a little something in return.
“Do we have to wait?” You said as your hands finally stilled.
“With what, my ember?” Jeonghan said as he looked around the forest, his back turned to you. When you studied his shoulders it almost looked like he was holding his breath.
“With the wedding? Do we have to wait?” You quickly stood and moved towards him, he however never turned towards you, almost as if he had wanted you to say the words, as if he wanted you, to want him just as much as he craved you.
You took his hand, your own was cold as metal.
He searched your eyes, and found nothing but want, need, of being tied to him.
Instead of denying you, instead of honoring the traditions of those who came before him, he melted, as snow beneath the sun of spring.
“I would never deny you anything my queen, least of all that”
He took your hand and kissed it gently. Jeonghan, the king of The Night Kingdom, the perfect gentleman, and your future husband.
The next two weeks went by in a flash, the preparations to the upcoming wedding had made you more busy than ever.
Jeonghan had ordered Hansol to stay by your side, it was the only thing, the only thing that kept you sane while all the stress of everything you had to do and learn before the wedding.
Especially since both Minghao and Woozi were otherwise occupied with preparations of their own.
You stood in a room filled with mirrors, with seamstresses all around you as they stitched the black wedding dress onto your body.
Hansol was as always stiff as a statue whenever other people were around, and a part of you hated that your brother couldn’t be there for emotional support.
As if he could read your mind, he quickly dismissed the seamstresses, and as soon as the room was empty, he pulled off his helmet and looked you over with a smile.
“You look beautiful, Spark” he said as he took your hand.
You smiled at him, yet it didn’t really reach your eyes. He gave your hand a little squeeze.
“They should all be here… Mom, dad, Chan…” You bit your bottom lip. You needed them all here.
“Something tells me dad would object to this if he had the chance” Vernon said with a wink, and he was right, he would have. It was too grand, there were too many people and none of those who truly mattered were there. Except him, except Hansol.
“Yeah, at least I have you” You smiled at your older brother and he beamed at the sentiment.
“I think Jeonghan might make me in charge of your guard” Hansol gently removed a few stray hairs from your face. “And if he choose to do so, then I would be the one to give you away”
You threw yourself at him, pulled him close, he laughed at that. “I always thought you would wear white at your wedding”
Now it was your time to laugh. White was the color usually used for weddings in The Sun Kingdom, whereas they used black in the place you currently called home.
“Who says I won't?" You winked at Hansol, and all he could do was roll his eyes.
What Hansol had said turned out to be the truth, Jeonghan had in fact put him in charge of your guard and your security.
According to Jeonghan he was the only man he trusted enough to put his queen's needs before the king’s. He was the only one loyal enough to actually do the job, which meant he was the only one right for it.
“Are you ready?” Minghao said as he gave you your bouquet of flowers.
You took a deep breath before you nodded. Hansol gently let the veil fall down over your face.
“Yes” it was confirmation enough, and before you knew it you were walking down the aisle of the large cathedral.
Jeonghan was shining as a star, tears in his eyes and a smile brighter than any you had ever seen on his lips before. He was happy, the happiest he had ever been, and so were you. This was it.
Wonwoo held a speech to all of the noblemen and women that had dragged their fine dresses and uniforms out of their closets, but you didn’t hear a single word, all you saw was the king in front of you.
The two of you exchanged your vows, and as the scholar tied the black ribbon around your hands, you were officially wed.
A crown was placed atop your head, two scepters were given to you by Jeonghan, one representing the moon, the other representing the sun, and you knelt before the king as he swore you in as queen of his people and the land.
Your heart was beating loudly throughout the festivities of the night, it was hammering away in your chest as you danced with your lover, as you laughed with his friends, as you ate your way through the large banquet.
It never stopped, it was a constant beat in the back of your mind, a clock, a countdown. It was nerves, nerves for what were to happen that night when the two of you were finally alone.
Jeonghan led you into his chambers as soon as it was acceptable for the two of you to leave the party in the ballroom.
It was larger than your own room, the bed was bigger, the windows taller. Overall this was a room fit for a king and queen.
He took your hands, and you were trembling like a leaf.
“Take a deep breath for me, my queen”
You chuckled at that, but you did as he said. It managed to calm you down, at least a little.
“Anyone would be nervous, if you weren’t I might even take offence” he laughed, and so did you. “Buy you my ember, you have been through more heartbreak and pain than most. So I will not force you to share my bed”
You looked straight at him, surprise and relief no doubt written all over your face. He brought a hand to your cheek and caressed it, as if you were the most delicate thing the world had ever seen.
“The day you want to give up your heart and soul to me, will be the second happiest day of my life. But it’s not something that I expect of you before you’re ready. I don’t want it before you beg for me to take it”
His eyes darkened, and you gasped for air.
“All I want from you tonight, is to hold you, if you’ll let me”
Your mouth went dry, and you nodded, maybe a little too eageristic, but it seemed to both melt and soften the king.
Jeonghan gestured towards a room divider in the other end of the room. “At the other side of that you’ll find a nightgown, go change my queen”
So you did, with shaking hands you loosened the black dress and let it fall to the ground, and with shaking hands you pulled on the silk and lace gown that Jeonghan had specially made for the occasion.
He was splayed in bed without a shirt. Casual and content. He belonged there, it was clear to see that he belonged in this grand room. For you it would take some getting used to.
His muscles were defined, and his long hair framed his face so perfectly. Before you knew it, you were pulling back the covers of the bed and slipping beneath it.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Jeonghan laughed as he turned his whole body towards you.
You pushed his shoulder. “No it wasn’t”
The two of you laid there, observing one another in this new space, and as you looked into his eyes, everything stilled.
It was as if looking at him made everything come into focus.
“There you go” He whispered as the whole bed seemed to still as soon as the nerves seemed to disappear.
He rested his forehead against yours as he had always done. “This is where I want to be, right here by your side, this is where I want to end every night, right next to you”
He slowly rubbed his nose against yours, and you leaned into his touch as you closed your eyes, just soaking in his words.
“And one day, this bed is where I want to end my days, next to you as the goddesses collect my soul”
You moved a little closer to him at that and laid a small kiss on his cheek. The gesture made him shudder.
“I think that’s doable, don’t you think?” You could feel the twinkle of sunlight in your eyes peek out, and he smiled wider at the sight.
The two of you didn’t say anything else, you just laid there and took in the day, took in each other, the warmth of your bodies, the smell of your mixing perfumes, the sound of your breaths.
As Jeonghan drifted to sleep, all you could do was thank the goddesses, for how they had blessed you. You smiled as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.
Everything was wet, so incredibly wet. As if it had started raining and someone had forgotten to close a window.
The whole room was heavy, and the smell of iron forced its way up your nose and down your throat, it almost made you gag.
You knew the smell well, it was blood.
You screamed then, a scream that was quickly stopped by the blade ramming into your stomach. There was a furious knock on the door as you screamed out for Hansol, for anyone, yet the stabbing continued, until finally it ceased.
The door to the room flew open and guards were everywhere to be seen. The captain had you in his arms in an instant, the oath he had sworn to Jeonghan making it so that he could not look back, as he ran towards Minghao's room with you in his arms.
Blood was dripping with each step he took, leaving a trail behind for anyone to follow. The healer was quick to open his door, he was over you within seconds, humming, letting his magic flow, healing the important vessels within a second.
Then he left you, left you to go and tend to his king, while his students took care of you.
Hansol had killed many men in his time. Both as soldier, guard and captain, he knew the body and its secrets, and with the amount of blood that was soaking the mattress of your wedding bed?
No one could come back from a blood loss that severe.
“Sol…?” Your voice was horse, weak.
“Shhh…” was all he said as he brushed the sweat soaked hair out of your face.
A tear rolled down your cheek.
You couldn’t muster anything to say.
The captain nodded. “He’s gone”
Through the halls of the castle, all anyone could hear was the scream of their new queen.
As the two weeks up to your wedding, the two weeks after were even more of a blur. You were sitting in meetings with the heads of families and noblemen, all discussing which one of them should take the king's place.
It didn’t matter what you said in protest. Jeonghan might’ve been a man who wanted to hear your opinion, but these men only wanted power.
They couldn’t care less that you were their queen still, because now that the king had died, they saw you as nothing more than a widow.
The meeting was the last of the day, everyone had sworn that they wouldn’t leave the room until they had all made an agreement of who was to be king.
They had been going back and forth for hours when Wonwoo finally spoke.
“There are two ways for us to fix this conflict with The Sun Kingdom, it’s either through war where we hopefully get to avenge our king. It’s a war which we cannot afford, not in gold nor in the losses of men”
His eyes were not hidden behind the dark colored glasses as usual, no they were revealed, exposed to the world.
They were completely white, great power had stolen his vision, sunpower, it made your stomach twist in knots.
“Or it’s through marriage” It was as if he was staring right at you.
“Since you and Jeonghan had only been wed for a few hours, there’s no heir we can promise King Mingyu, which under normal circumstances leaves us at a disadvantage”
The man smirked then, it was sinister, almost evil.
“Luckily for us, we have something that the king want”
You felt your heart stop in your chest as your face drained of color.
The men started talking between themselves, no doubt weighing the pros and cons of making such an alliance with the king of the sun and light.
You knew what their decision would be before they did themselves, such an alliance would mean more gold for each of them, so they would vote in favor of it, and as they all nodded in agreement with the scholar, Wonwoo then looked back to you.
“What do you say my queen?”
The tears welled in your eyes. “I will do whatever it takes to keep my people and my kingdom safe. If this is what you all deem to be the best, then I will sacrifice my own happiness, my own life”
The men all nodded approvingly, all they saw was a woman who knew her place.
“I will make sure that this kingdom will be ruled with help of the people who know how to govern a country”
More nods of approval. Wonwoo sat at the end of the table looking as smug as ever. The men next to him were all idiots, they had not known that he had just secured the crown for himself.
There was no doubt that Mingyu would whisk you away from this palace, and leave the governing of The Night Kingdom to whoever you recommended, and Wonwoo was gonna make sure that, that someone was gonna be him.
You shook your head. He was as stupid as the rest of them.
“Good, I will send word to King Mingyu right away, and lay the terms out for him, let’s hope he still crave our queen, otherwise we might have a problem”
You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer of satisfaction in those dead white eyes of his.
It had been no more than a month since you had been standing in this cathedral, only a month ago that the man in front of you had been Jeonghan, the moon, and yet he was gone now, and in front of you stood none other than the sun himself. Mingyu.
There was a fire burning in his eyes, one you knew was reflected in your own. You were not a weak woman, you never had been, and you were determined to show everyone in the room exactly that.
You were determined to show them all that you could do this, determined to earn their trust and their respect.
Woonwoo stood there, just as he had two weeks ago, saying the sacred words of the goddesses, those that would bind not only your souls together, but the two kingdoms.
You heard one of the giant doors open and quickly close again. You looked towards it and saw a silver haired man sneak in.
It took you a second before you realized who he was, you had become so accustomed to look at the other side of the coin that was his face, you had become so accustomed to look at his twin that it took a few heartbeats before you realized just who you were looking at. Jun.
Your breath hitched and you quickly found Minghao’s eyes in the crowd. His eyes were filled with both love and adoration for you, but also sadness. Your friend was sad on your behalf.
You looked back at Jun and smiled. Then your eyes once again found Minghao’s and you smiled even brighter then.
He shook his head slightly, clearly confused about the sudden change in your demeanor. Your eyes made a direct line from him to the man that had just entered.
Minghao only furrowed his brows in confusion.
So instead you made a gesture towards the door which seemed to do the trick, and as your friend turned you felt your heart filled with joy.
He looked back at you in an instant, as if confirming that his eyes were in fact not deceiving him. Your smile widened even more, though it didn’t seem possible.
The healer slowly stood from his seat and moved closer to the doors. And there at your second wedding, a pair of twins, brothers who had been apart for far too long, finally reunited in an embrace.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mingyu, and how he leaned his head back and smiled at the ceiling.
He was hiding his joy from those in the room that didn’t need to see it. Because like you, he too was happy that the brothers had united at last.
His smile lit up the room, warmed it, and when he once again turned his face towards you, you saw how his face neatly slipped on the smug mask.
You avoided looking at him for too long, afraid of what reaction it might have, so instead you once again turned your attention to the twins.
Jun looked at you then and smiled, broadly and brightly, and then he bowed deeply. It was a bow to thank you, for everything that you had done, for reuniting them at last.
There was a pride gleaming in his eyes. Then he opened the door and slipped out of the room with his brother right behind him. The two of them had a lot of catching up to do.
The ceremony was over before you knew it, and the feast after was complete and utter torture.
You had to sit there and look at people have fun, all while you had to sit there like a statue. Unable to leave before your new husband deemed it time to whisk you away from all the observing eyes.
Hansol grabbed onto your hand beneath the table and squeezed it. You bit your lip. You needed to get out, needed an escape.
“Let’s go” Mingyu had leaned as close to you as he could, his lips touching your ear in the way Jeonghans had, but this time there was no blush in your cheeks, only fire and light burning beneath your skin.
He stood from his seat and held out a hand for his new bride, you hesitated a little before you took it, a gesture which only made him smile even brighter.
Somewhere in the hall you heard Hoshi make a vile noise, one that almost made you roll your eyes. But you composed yourself, and decided you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his shenanigans.
Mingyu let you lead both of you to your chamber. It had been decided that the new king would not be allowed into the room where the previous one had been killed, especially when Mingyu was the one they suspected had been behind the assasination.
Therefore the two of you would instead use the one that had been your home for the past year.
You stepped towards the windows as he gently closed the door behind the two of you.
“Everything is just so dark and cold here” he looked around the room and his eyes finally settled on your back.
You could see the flash of light that he had released reflect on the walls and windows around you. You knew what he had done.
It was a protection spell, one that would let the two of you speak or scream without anyone else hearing it. He had used it so many times before, always when the two of you had been left alone.
“Look at me” he whispered, it was an order, although it sounded more like a plea.
You turned around as fast as you could, and then you looked at him. And you finally allowed yourself to take in the king that stood before you. To take in your husband.
The golden eyes, the strong jaw and light brown hair. The tan skin of his neck and the broad shoulders hiding beneath his cape.
He looked like light and warmth itself, and you had been cold and hidden away in the dark for so long.
You felt the tears as a sob clawed its way up your throat. Your knees, however, gave out first, but he had you in his arms before you could hit the ground.
He pulled you as close to him as humanly possible, and you clung to his white linen shirt as you wept.
“You did so good, light of my life. You did so, so good” he whispered the words again and again. It was a prayer on his lips, a mantra, and you clung to every word.
Because he was right, you had done it.
You had infiltrated the enemy. You had done everything that you had planned to, you had executed everything perfectly. You had managed to seduce the Moon King himself.
Mingyu had lifted you from the spot on your floor and while you were cradled in his arms he had sat down in the chair.
He never spoke, he never rushed you, he just sat there, grateful that he could finally hold you again.
When you were done crying you told him how you had taken Jeonghan's life while he slept.
The day that Mingyu, Hoshi and Seungcheol had cut their way through the palace, he had sent you a signal from the woods, a signal of where to find a sundagger, the very place where you had collapsed, the place that Jeonghan had made so easy to find with the small daisies.
You told him how you had raked through the flowers, until your hand had touched the metal, then you had gently pushed the small blade down the back of your trousers, carrying the weapon back into the moon castle.
You told him of how you had trembled all night, nervous that he would discover the knife you had hidden with a chain around your upper thigh. It wasn’t until you were laying next to Jeonghan in bed and you knew you had succeeded, that your body finally managed to relax.
You told him of how you had pulled the knife in the dead of night, and first punctured his lung. Making it impossible for him to call for help.
And as you slowly made holes in the king, as if he were nothing more than a pincushion, you had told him the real story of who you were.
The story of a girl who grew up with two brothers by her side, one who was kidnapped when she was young, the other when she was an adult.
One brother that had been molded to the perfect weapon by a foreign and cruel king. A king that took riches from those who needed it the most, a king that stole children from their parents to make them into soulless soldiers.
The king had never known that the child, the eclipse wielder, had never forgotten his life, had never forgotten his family. No one had known, until you yourself found your brother in the role as his own captain.
You thanked him for training him, and told him of how you would now use his own captain, to turn his own people against every nobleman and woman in his court. Then you had stabbed him again
Then you told him of the other brother, the one born with the power of the sun and its storms. You told him of how he had been your best friend, of how the two of you had laughed, cried and trained together.
Then you told him about the cruel king that had once again taken what didn’t belong to him, the cruel king that had taken the one dearest to you.
You told him that the day that Chan died, it wasn’t because Wonwoo had tortured him to his breaking point, it was because he had sacrificed himself, and transferred the power of the sun, to the only person he knew would be able to avenge him. You.
Then you had looked into the king's eyes as widened, as he realized he had let his worst enemy into his own castle, how he had been the reason for the prophecy coming true.
A child of the moon, a child of the sun,Born of the eclipse, crowned by the storm.Keep them not sundered, for they are one Together, their fates will shift and transform.
Two lands shall converge, their division undone,And no mortal hand shall unmake what’s begun.
You had smiled as you finished the prophecy.
“This is for Hansol and for Chan and every other person you have killed for your own greed” you had said before you had driven the blade into his heart. You leaned over him and in his ear you whispered: “You did promise me that you would never stand in the way of my revenge, and for that I thank you”
You told Mingyu of how he had tried to reach out for your neck as he slowly bled out before you.
Of how you had laid back in the blood soaked bed and laughed, right before you had kissed the sundaggers blade and lined it up with the old scars they had made on your stomach, in that cave so long ago, and how you had stabbed yourself again and again.
When your vision had darkened in the edges, you had called out for help. And on the other side of your door, there stood Hansol, ready to assist you, to make sure that the story of your innocence was air tight.
Mingyu kissed your temple once as he inhaled your scent.
“I’m so proud of you”
You nuzzled into his chest then. It felt surreal to be there by his side, after everything that had happened.
“I dreamt of you every night” You whispered to him.
It wasn’t a lie, every night you had been there you had met your soulmate in your dreams, it was why you screamed his name every morning
He was being torn from you over and over again.
You could feel his smile on your skin. “I know, I did too”
From the moment the two of you had met it had been him, it was as if a string of golden light connected the two of you, as if the goddesses themself had decided that your fates were intertwined.
He was yours and you were his.
You looked at him, and with the most tender look you had ever seen him express he rested his forehead against yours.
He took a deep breath, one that shook, and as he opened his mouth to say the words, you kissed him.
He kissed you back with a vigor, one that lit your soul on fire and warmed you from within.
As you pulled away from him, his smile could light up the world. You returned it.
“I love you” you whispered.
You had never dared speak the words before now. He had done it often and without a demand of you returning them. He had always known you couldn’t say them, he had always known that if you did, it would be impossible for you to leave him.
He laughed, it was a silent and beautiful sound.
“Oh my light” he kissed your lips once. “I love you too”
The two of you had called upon your closest friends that night, told them to meet you when the moon was at its highest and most of the castle would be asleep, and when the soldiers would be training.
It was torture walking the halls and not grab on to the arm of the man you called husband, the man you loved.
The good thing however was that it gave you a pained expression, one that most of the soldiers lining the halls seemed to approve of.
You were the last one to arrive in the little room that was located in the library. They were all there, all those men that you loved and adored that were still alive.
Hansol stopped at the door and turned his back to the wall, ready to protect you all as you talked and discussed.
You reached out for him and you saw his eyes flicker with uncertainty.
“You belong in this meeting as well,” you said with a smile.
He took your hand and took a deep breath. “What if they don’t remember me?” he whispered almost silently.
The tears threatened to fall right then and there. “They will brother”
With that he stepped into the room behind you.
Once again Mingyu let his magic protect the room in case someone wanted to listen in on the conversation.
You looked out at all of them and took a deep breath.
Woozi was as good as hiding behind Minghao who was glued to Jun’s side. Seungcheol and Dokyeom, the little prince, as you had always called him, were engaging in some sort of conversation.
In one of the corners of the room you saw Hoshi and Seungkwan bicker as usual, the two were masters in annoying one another, masters in driving each other completely nuts, and it seemed that even the pending conversation wasn’t serious enough to stop that routine.
Mingyu pulled you close to his side and you melted into his touch as you always had, and the gesture was enough for all eyes in the room to look towards you.
Dokyeom was the first that moved, he ran to you and picked you up and spun you around.
It earned him a little scream. “Oh how I’ve missed you sister”
It had always been his nickname for you, and he had emphasized calling you that and that alone since Hansol had been taken.
“Missed you too my sunshine” The prince beamed at that before he hugged his brother and no doubt congratulated him once again.
Seungcheol was right behind him and pulled you in for a hug, he pinched your cheek as he let the next one take his place.
Jun had left his brother and the cook and slowly stepped forward, and you met him halfway through the room and he scooped you up into his arms. He held on to you the longest and as he finally pulled away he smiled and said: “Thank you for reuniting us. This is a day I never thought I would live to see”
“It was my absolute pleasure”
As soon as Jun had let go of you Hoshi was over you in a second. The two of you spun around again and again as you laughed together. The tiger was chaotic, but in the best way possible, and you couldn’t wait to train with him again.
“Yah I’ve dreamt of this day for so long!” He spun you around once, and when he finally pulled you in for a hug he whispered: “Don’t worry I kept it safe for you”
You laid a hand on the general's cheek in thanks.
Seungkwan hadn’t moved. Not even a little bit. He was frozen in his chair as he looked towards the ceiling, desperate not to cry.
“Kwan” you said as you stepped towards him, he only shook his head in response.
“You can’t hug me, if you do I will just end up crying even more”
You laughed as you flung your hands around him, causing the sun healer to break down completely. He sobbed into the crook of your neck, and you let him fall apart as you held him.
“I’m sorry, this is kind of pathetic” he said as he laughed a little.
“Just get it all out, it’s healthy!” Dokyeom said as he poured himself a glass of red wine from the decanter that stood in the corner of the room.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need one of those as well,” Woozi said as he stepped forward, quickly grabbing the glass from the prince's hand and drowning it in one go.
Dokyeom only laughed at that.
You saw how Seungcheol looked at the other captain that stood in one of the corners of the room, silent and still as a statue.
“You’re the captain of the guard, are you not?” he asked Hansol and you saw him visibly stiffen as all the eyes of the room looked towards him.
Hoshi took a step closer to him as he said: “How did you manage to win my queen's trust?” the tiger raised a brow as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“She’s my queen too” Hansol only said, his voice didn’t shake, it was loud and clear, but you knew that beneath the uniform, his heart was most likely beating out of his own chest.
You sent a silent nod towards your brother, and he took a deep breath before he slowly reached up and removed the helmet, ready to show everyone in the room who he was.
Hansol’s eyes remained closed for a few heartbeats. “Well that was anticlimactic” Hoshi said with a shrug of his shoulders.
The captain laughed at that, his mouth merging into that all to known smile, and when he opened his eyes to look at the Sun warrior the whole room seemed to cease breathing.
One heartbeat.
Two heartbeats.
Everyone stood completely still.
All of the sudden, as if they had all been let loose, your lover, your oldest friends set off and sprinted towards Hansol.
The man was quickly wrestled to the ground as laughs mixed with cries of relief echoed through the room.
His hair was ruffled, his cheeks were pinched and kissed all the while all of them did their best to pull him into a giant group hug. It was as if they had all become children again.
Your heart had never felt more full than it did in this second, it was as if parts of you, parts that you didn’t even know were broken, were healing right in front of you.
After a few minutes of wrestling and bickering, Mingyu removed himself from the flock. He went straight for you and held your head in his hands. He looked at you with the same love and adoration as he always had.
He kissed your lips slowly and with so much tenderness it made your knees go weak. “You found him” he said with a smile and that signature sparkle in his eyes.
You answered with a nod and a little chuckle.
The men were slowly getting up off the ground.
“Yahhhh… I did not expect that” Hoshi said as he shook his head.
“This is absolutely insane!” Dokyeom said in a voice that was nothing short of excited.
Seungkwan lingered and helped the captain off the floor, and as both men stood, he quickly pulled him in for yet another hug while he whispered something meant only for your brother's ears.
Minghao slowly raised a hand, his back still up against the wall. Jun just smiled at him. “I for one would love to know what the hell is going on”
Mingyu pulled out one of the many chairs that stood around the round table of the room, and with a nod he gestured for the healer to sit down.
“You do deserve an explanation” you looked at Woozi then, “you both do. So allow us to explain what happened before I was found in the woods that day”
“You also need to know what happened while you were gone,” Seungcheol said with a smile, but the tone was still serious.
“And I for one would love to know how the three of you managed to get through my guards” Hansol said, as he gestured to the king and his two soldiers. Hoshi only winked at him, which only made your brothers smile wider.
“We might as well start at the beginning then” you said as everyone had found a seat at the table. Mingyu reached out for your hand and you quickly took it.
☼ notes: please as always! Like and reblog if you like my work, and as always I really appreciate any kind of feedback! Thank you so much for being patient, and for reading
i think it’s been long enough now since i read this that my post-read amnesia has settled in enough for me to still remember the BIG™️ plot twist but not remember the finer details so i can still read and say “OH MY GOD THAT’S RIGHT I FORGOT THAT PART” and now that i know the BIG™️ twist be like “ooooohhh so this was [redacted] happening behind the scenes oooh so sneaky”
was hanging out with my pops helping him cook the fish i caught yesterday and he tried to show off that he had the budweiser can label memorized and in return I recited the motto of the bar in the spongebob movie and he liked that infinitely more than what he said
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