Tomato Farm

Rhen•She/Her•20s•Multifandom Masterlist

[rhenuvee]

Rhen | she/her | 20s

Currently: i want a pombubu

Recent Work:

Moles = Past Lovers Theory | PHAINON Silver Tongued | tattoo artist/piercer!PHAINON Seventeen | brothersbestfriend!PHAINON

Ongoing Series:

Soft Launch | DILUC Pics or it Didn't Happen | PHAINON

Masterlist Request Rules General Info To Be Written Queue

[elysiumae]

runaway.

⟢ pairing: mydei x f!reader

⟢ word count: 7k

⟢ tags: modern!au, cto!mydei, romance, angst, mydei becomes the victim of someone's hot girl summer, slightly problematic reader, based off my favourite k-drama lovestruck in the city

After a sun-soaked summer in Carmitis, you return to normalcy in a shoebox apartment in Okhema City. You accept a job at Kremnos Engineering, determined to rebuild your life, only to find out that your new boss is a familiar face — the same fling that you'd vanished on a year ago without a trace.

⟢ chapters: one | two | three

You lose count of how many times you consider handing in your resignation over the next week.

Stupid, you tell your reflection in the bathroom mirror in the morning. Stupid, you mutter to yourself, during the dreary commute to and from work. Stupid, you repeat, as you sift through endless emails and attempt to put together a coherent marketing proposal. Why did you do that?

You've spent these past few months in Kremnos making sure Mydei never sees your face — coming in to work early, sometimes staying late enough to see the cleaning crew switch off the lights. You've even pieced together a rough approximation of the schedule from passing comments of your coworkers so that you can dance around it — a carefully choreographed routine that you've rehearsed and perfected, all for one singular purpose.

And a few nights ago, you'd nearly undone it all on an impulse. For what reason? Some lingering sense of guilt? A remnant of deep seated nostalgia that has yet to fade?

Whatever it is, however, doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that Mydei hasn't moved on — he will, eventually — or that despite everything you'd done to him, he'd still held you that night as you cried. You had your reasons for ending things with him in Carmitis. They haven't changed now.

And besides, the one he loves is Helena — not you.

The name leaves a sour taste in your mouth. It means shining light, and was the name of the clothing boutique where you'd first shed your old self upon arriving in Carmitis. You'd traded in your wrinkled office wear for tie-dyed beach shirts, and ears red rimmed from crying and exhaustion for colourful, funky sunglasses. It'd been the name that you'd taken for your own on that sun soaked beach, where no one knew you for the failure you were back home, because it had sounded pretty, clean and new.

Now, you can scarcely stand the way it sounds.

In an effort to banish all thoughts of crying CTOs and ill-advised flings from your mind, you hurl yourself back into work with a renewed frenzy. You take on extra roles, volunteer for admin tasks no one else wants to touch, and refine your proposal until you can quote every word from it in your sleep.

Aglaea seems genuinely impressed when you hand it in. In the short time you've worked under her, you've learned that she is a notoriously exacting woman, so any praise you manage to glean from her hands twice as sweet.

"This seems well positioned to reach our target audience," Aglaea comments, as she scrolls through the pages of your proposal. "Your segmentation rationale is clear, and the projected engagement aligns with our branding objectives." She gives you a quick nod, even graces you with the slightest hint of an approving smile. "I can see that you've put a lot of thought into this."

You have. For a moment, you nearly feel yourself swelling like a hot air balloon from the acknowledgment, the validation. You're perilously close to bursting when she adds, "I'd like you to present this at the board meeting next week. It's about time you got more visibility."

That deflates you in an instant.

"The board?" you echo, your voice pitching up towards the end despite your best efforts to steady it. Aglaea doesn't seem to notice, fortunately, eyes still scanning over the tablet in her hands.

The board she's talking about — that's the board of directors that Mydei sits on, right? "I—I don't know if that's really necessary," you say hastily, desperate to avoid any more close calls with Mydei. "The report already speaks for itself, a—and I'm still relatively new. Maybe you should be the one to present it, since so much of it reflects your guidance…"

The look Aglaea gives you makes you close your mouth before you can continue. "Don't be ridiculous," she says. "This was your work. You will present it."

There's not much you can do or say after that. And so, a week later, you find yourself nervously gripping your laptop outside a meeting room on one of the building's more rarefied upper floors. It's only supposed to be a ten minute presentation, meant to wrap up some broader financial discussion that the CMO will be having, but ten minutes in the same room with Mydei is still ten minutes too many. You feel like a death row prisoner waiting for their turn on the electric chair.

Before your nerves can get the better of you, however, a harried secretary appears in the doorway to beckon you inside. "You're up next," he says, clutching the tablet in his hands like it's a lifeline.

You step carefully into the meeting room after him, head lowered and a surgical mask covering the bottom half of your face. After a week of agonising, this was the best solution you'd come up with.

Earlier in the day, you'd made a point of coughing delicately around Aglaea, muttering something about a sore throat and not wanting to get anyone else sick. Now, you cling to the hope that it — the mask, the office wear, the undyed hair — will be enough to keep Mydei from recognising you.

Speaking of the devil, Mydei is already seated at the oblong table in the room, directly opposite the presenter's position. You swear you can feel the weight of his gaze as you set up your laptop, but you keep your head down and fix your traitorously wandering eyes on the screen.

You begin the slideshow. The first slide showcases a clean brand, a more restrained palette to emphasize stability and reliability — two things Kremnos has always prided itself in. You walk them through the market segmentation, the rationale behind each demographic slice. Numbers and charts appear one after another on the screen.

You don't look at him.

Instead, you fall into a rehearsed rhythm. Click, speak, pause. Click again. A question comes up about projected engagement, and you surprise even yourself with how smoothly you answer, citing figures from memory without breaking stride.

When you finish, the room fills with polite applause, followed by a handful of questions. None are directed at you — most to the CMO, actually — but from the comments exchanged around the table, the feedback sounds positive, even favourable. Mydei nods along with the others, golden eyes sharp as he murmurs a few words you don't quite catch, but other than that, he appears mostly impassive. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to have recognised you.

You've never been more relieved in your life.

After the meeting breaks and people begin gathering their things, you hastily pack away your laptop, eager to slip out unnoticed. You're almost at the door when your name cuts through the low hum of conversation.

It's Mydei. "A moment, please."

Your heart does an impressive somersault into your throat, but you force your anxiety down as you slowly make your way back to him. Breathe normally, walk normally — you repeat this to yourself like a mantra as you approach the table. Still, the memories of the last time you saw him slip in without invitation — eyes shadowed with exhaustion, voice rough with hurt, the solid heat of his body against yours. You shove it all away with brute force.

Instead, you fix your attention anywhere but his eyes. The sharp line of his jaw, the familiar slope of his shoulders beneath crisp fabric, the flash of crimson ink curling just above his collarbone, barely visible where he's left two buttons of his shirt undone…

Seriously? This isn't the time for that!

"… benchmarked against our current backlog, or projected off third-party capacity?"

It takes you an embarrassingly long moment to realise that he's asking you a question. "Oh. Oh—yes, the delivery timelines," you reply quickly, mind scrambling to pull together the data that he's requesting. "We accounted for current procurement lead times, so the engagement projections won't overpromise against delivery constraints."

You're halfway into explaining your thought process when you remember, with some degree of alarm, your supposed "cough". Carefully, you begin to slip it in — punctuating your sentences with small, apologetic clears of your throat. You even mumble a quick "sorry" under your breath, hoping that it helps sell the story. Under his piercing gaze, the mask feels less like a shield and more like a flimsy prop.

Through it all, however, Mydei doesn't react. He listens the way he always does: still, attentive, expression unreadable. There's no impatience or outward concern — just those golden eyes fixed on you as you speak.

When you finish answering his question, he follows up with another. And then another. By the fourth question, the anxiety in your stomach has escalated ino a nest of angry hornets. He's too focused, too thorough, and you're feeling like a mouse caught between the waiting paws of a cat.

Has he already recognised you, somehow?

After you finish explaining, he falls silent. For a second, your heart hammers in your chest, half-expecting him to call you out on your bluff — to strip away the mask and call you by that name you'd given him on that beach.

Instead, he only nods.

"Understood," Mydei says, at last. Your eyebrows nearly lift off your forehead — equal parts stunned and relieved by his apparent lack of recognition. His tone remains cool, detached, perfectly professional as he continues. "I commend your work ethic. But if you're feeling unwell, the most productive thing you can do is rest and recover. It reflects poorly on us if our employees are expected to work through illness. Apart from that, good job on the presentation."

The words land heavier than they have any right to.

You remember the time you'd once fallen sick in Carmitis: how Mydei had spent the entire day at your side, changing the damp cloth on your forehead and coaxing tiny sips of water down your throat. You'd been feverish, half-drifting in and out of sleep, and Mydei had sat at your side for hours, murmuring reassurances whenever you stirred. Fed you soup that had taken hours to simmer on his trailer's tiny stove, instead of chasing the waves like he'd planned.

And he'd done it all with no resentment, no fuss. As if taking care of you hadn't been a chore in his eyes, but a privilege.

The thought of it is enough to make your chest tighten again. Abruptly, desperate to redirect the attention, you gesture to the faint shadows beneath his eyes. "You look tired, too," you say, too quickly to stop yourself.

The second the words leave your mouth, you instantly regret them. This isn't just Mydei, but the CTO of the company that you now belong to — and you are definitely overstepping your bounds. Your pulse sputters.

Fortunately, Mydei only raises an eyebrow before he exhales. There's the barest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"With great work comes great responsibility," he quotes dryly, "and a great mountain of sleep debt, apparently." He shakes his head and picks up his laptop. "But I'll live. I'll see you around."

With that, Mydei leaves, closing the door behind him. And you stand there, for a moment longer than necessary, fingers tightening around the side of your laptop, wishing — aching — that you could say me too.

Gorgo drops by without warning, as she so often does. She hasn't been around Amphoreus much, ever since she and Eurypon formally separated a few years back, but she always makes a point of checking in on Mydei between trips. And today, she's just returned from a month long tour across the Xianzhou's six provinces, cheeks tanned from the sun and looking so carefree it makes Mydei smile.

"Mydeimos!" she announces, the moment she steps through his door. Mydei barely has time to say a word before a bag stuffed full with souvenirs is thrust into his arms, freeing up her hands to poke and prod at him. "Ah, look at these dark circles under your eyes!" she scolds, pinching his cheeks between her fingers. Mydei makes a muffled sound of protest, but doesn't pull away. "You look like one of those Luofu pandas!"

"Work's been busy lately…"

She swats his excuse aside as if it's nothing more than a fly. "Work, work, work— you'll work yourself into an early grave, if you keep this up," Gorgo tells him, narrowing her eyes. "I told that old coot not to push you so hard. Honestly, I should—"

"Ma." He shifts the bag to the crook of his elbow and so that he can catch her wrists, give them a reassuring squeeze. "It's really just a busy period. He's not forcing me to do anything."

Gorgo studies him for a few seconds longer, her eyes searching his. Gold meets gold — eyes he inherited from his mother. Alongside your stubborn streak, his father liked to say. At last, she relents with a huff. "Well, if you say so, son."

She makes her way into his apartment, and Mydei follows her, peering through the bag of souvenirs. It's overflowing, as usual — artfully wrapped local sweets, some oddly shaped trinkets, specialty longans from the Fanghu, and inexplicably, several cans of mung bean soda. Gorgo snorts at the expression on his face as she drops onto his couch.

"It tastes good!" she insists, when he gives her a look. "Seriously. Have one! I want to see you try it."

Mydei hesitates, but the curiosity wins out. He cracks a can open under her expectant stare, and the first sip earns him an involuntary grimace. His mother bursts into laughter at once, clapping her hands. "Oh, that face never gets old," she says as she wipes away a tear. "For someone so serious, you can be quite gullible sometimes, you know?"

The words prick just a little. Still, he schools his expression into a half smile, shakes his head and joins her on the couch.

For a while, they simply talk about everything and nothing. She tells him stories of her travels, which Amphorean foods she's missed the most, the strangers she'd met that had become friends. And slowly, it drifts over to matters of work, colleagues that she had once been familiar with, how the company — and by extension, Eurypon — is doing.

"Sounds like he hasn't changed one bit," Gorgo snorts, waving a hand as she takes sips of her pomegranate juice (the opened can of mung bean soda sits on his coffee table, untouched). "Always convinced that the next quarter will be the one that finally lets him breathe, always saying just a little longer and then…"

She trails off. Mydei frowns, confused by her sudden silence. Then he follows her gaze down to where his hand rests loosely in his lap — to where the ring still sits on his finger.

He pulls his hand back like he's been burned, but it's futile — she's already seen it. Still, Gorgo doesn't judge him, doesn't soften her expression with pity or sharpen it into accusation. She only looks at him, the same way she always has since he was a child, and when she speaks, her voice is uncharacteristically gentle.

"Son," she says quietly, "are you still in love with her?"

And somehow, that's almost worse than disappointment — there is no lying or easy deflection, when she asks like this. Mydei doesn't answer immediately. Not because he doesn't know, but because he knows too well. It sits in the hollow cavity of his chest, between his ribs, still tender and unresolved, a tender wound that refuses to heal.

Gorgo searches his face. Neither prying or demanding. Just… understanding, somehow. After a moment, she exhales, and some unseen tension seems to ease from her own expression as she reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.

"You really are my son, huh?" she murmurs, more to herself than to him. There's something almost resembling pride in her voice, though it's woven with sympathy. She lets out a quiet huff. "Y'know, sometimes I wonder whether I'm still in love too."

Mydei's head jerks up in alarm, caught off guard by the sudden confession. You shouldn't, he wants to say, but manages to rein in his tongue at the last moment. It would be hypocritical, coming from him of all people. But Gorgo just laughs.

"Not with how he is now, of course." She pats his hand, amused, and shakes her head. "But with the man that your father was — the man I married. He was romantic, you know." Her smile softens, tinged with something wistful at the edges. "Before the company became his life, and his life became his company."

Mydei does remember. The memories come in flashes: a time when they were still living in a cramped, two room apartment, when all his father could afford were supermarket flowers, wrapped in brown paper and crinkled cellophane. He remembers how his mother would smile at them anyway, how she would trim the stems herself and set them in a chipped glass vase by the window.

He'd always believed that she preferred those flowers to the grand bouquets Eurypon sent from abroad — towering roses delivered with printed cards on anniversaries and birthdays, apologies tucked between petals and whatever work was keeping him away in another country. Back then, she had laughed more, seemed lighter. She had been happier, then.

She is happier now, too.

"Maybe the feelings will never truly fade. But I've learned this," Gorgo squeezes his hand gently. Loving what was doesn't mean that you're condemned to stay there forever. And just because something ends, it doesn't mean joy ends with it."

Mydei presses his lips together, a small knot twisting tighter and tighter in his chest. He clenches his fist until the ring digs into his skin.

"There will be more happiness further down the road," his mother says softly. "Mydei, you're a good child — the best thing that's ever happened to me. You are my greatest pride and joy."

She looks at him with so much fondness it makes his eyes sting.

"More than anything, I want to see you happy."

The stone bench is cold beneath him, even through the fine wool of his trousers. The air here is quieter than the city around it, and the bells will not ring tonight — they don't, not on weekdays. Mydei rarely stops by here, outside of Saturdays, but his mother's words have been on his mind for the past few days now — through the meetings, the emails, surfacing in the quiet moments between tasks no matter how hard he tries to bury them beneath work.

Mydei stares down at the dark, shallow water. It flows on, indifferent to the emotional turmoil in his chest, gurgling as it courses on and on and on.

There will be more happiness further down the road.

He slides the cheap metal ring from his finger and turns it over in his hand. It feels strangely light in his palm now, this simple ornament that has carried so much weight for so long. Mydei stares at it for a while longer before he takes a deep breath, grips the ring tight and slowly raises his arm — ready to let the current take it away, along with the last traces of summer he's tried so hard to leave behind.

He looks up, about to cast the ring into the water, when he freezes.

You're walking along the opposite bank of the river, hands shoved into the pockets of your coat. Silhouetted against the light of a streetlamp, your expression is a little pensive, lost in thought. Your hair is slightly tousled by the cold wind, and it isn't the same colour as it was back in Carmitis, and you're not wearing that smile that has haunted his every waking moment for this past year — but it's you.

For a heartbeat, he doesn't move. There have been too many late nights like this one, too many moments where exhaustion had painted your face into shadows and reflections — shop windows, passing crowds, strangers with the wrong hair and the wrong laugh. He swallows hard, dread curling in his gut. Not again, he begs. Please, not again.

He drags a hand down his face, rough and impatient, rubbing his eyes as if that might dispel the image. But when he looks at the pavement again, you're still there. Still you.

A hundred emotions tumble through Mydei's chest all at once. His breath catches in his throat, a caged bird struggling to break free. All that comes out is a whisper of disbelief.

"Helena?"

And then, as if feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you lift your head.

Your eyes meet.

For half a heartbeat, you simply stare at him. First disbelief, mouth slightly agape, mirroring his own, before it's eclipsed by shock. And then, while Mydei is still processing that you are here — here, so close, right in front of him — it melts into pure unadulterated horror. You stumble a step back, face pale and eyes wide.

And then you turn around and break into a run.

That is enough to shake Mydei out of his shock. He doesn't think — there isn't anything to think about. Mydei just shoves the ring into his pocket and follows, his oxfords pounding against the pavement. His heartbeat thumps violently in his chest with each step he takes.

He doesn't bother with the bridge. Instead, he charges directly into the river and freezing water floods his shoes at once, soaking his suit trousers up to the knee, but he barely feels the cold. All that matters is the distance — the distance between the two of you, the distance he must close before you can slip between his fingers and vanish again.

You glance back at the sound of his footsteps splashing through the water, and your eyes widen even further in alarm when you see him closing in. You scramble up the far bank just as he clambers out of the river, taking two steps at a time up the stairs and heading straight for the busy street. But Mydei is gaining, his longer strides eating up the distance between the two of you, in relentless pursuit.

He won't let you go. Not this time.

The traffic light above the street shifts from red to green. A car just beyond begins to move, engine humming as it begins to accelerate. You don't see it, throwing another panicked look over your shoulder as you dart towards the crossing.

But Mydei does.

He launches himself forward without thinking. His body collides with yours, arms wrapping tightly around you as the two of you go crashing hard into the ground. A sharp grunt escapes him when his shoulder and back slam against the asphalt, but Mydei crushes you against his chest, shielding you from the worst of the impact.

The car screeches, swerving violently. It mounts the curb with a jarring crunch, just metres away from the two of you.

For a long, suspended moment, there is only the shrill wail of the car’s alarm and the sound of his own ragged breathing. He can almost hear the frantic beat of your heart, thrumming violently against his chest.

Then, the car door flies open. The driver steps out, face pale with shock and anger, and starts shouting. Someone calls the police.

Mydei barely hears any of it. He's still holding you, knees and shoulders throbbing from the fall, but right now, none of it matters. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he realises that this is the closest that the two of you have been in over a year — and the thought hits him harder than the impact did.

He stares down at your face, watching the near-death terror in your eyes slowly ebb into a dazed, trembling shock. You shift in his arms, fidgeting as if the contact itself unsettles you, like you don't quite know what to do with his hold.

He tightens his arms instinctively — then hesitates, uncertain. A part of him wants to murmur something, anything, to steady you, to tell you that you're alright now. But the words don't come. He doesn't know which ones he's allowed to say anymore.

You don't look at him.

The police arrive a few minutes later, lights flashing. After making sure there are no serious injuries, they separate you to take your individual statements. Mydei gives his details, and tells them to pass his contact information to the driver regarding the damages. The whole time, however, he makes sure to stay close, eyes never straying from you for long as he answers their questions.

His part is finished first. Mydei steps aside, the murmur of voices blurring together until he hears the officer speaking to you ask for your name. You hesitate, eyes flicking up to look at him.

"Ma'am?" the officer prompts again.

Your shoulders slump, just a fraction. It's as if something inside you has given way.

Then you answer.

The whole process is over surprisingly quick. The police take your statements with minimal interruption, only pausing you every now and then to clarify details about the incident. I wasn't paying attention, you tell them, when they ask you why you'd charged onto the road like that. An officer reminds you to be more careful, to hold your life and that of those around you in higher regard from now on, and moves on.

Everything is feeling somewhat manageable, and the death grip anxiety has on your throat is just starting to loosen — when suddenly, they ask for your name.

Something inside you goes still.

You lift your head just a fraction, and you see Mydei is standing a little to the side. He isn't looking directly at you, his gaze angled away with deliberate care, but you know him enough at least to know that he is listening, attention sharp despite the carefully neutral posture. Every muscle in you draws taut, a bowstring drawn back with no arrow to let loose. Not now, you plead in your mind. Not like this.

The officer asks again.

And you have no choice but to answer.

The second your true name leaves your lips, Mydei's expression shifts. His eyes widen, gold flashing with raw, unadulterated shock, as if the very earth has shifted beneath his feet. Then, his expression smooths over with frightening speed, the surface of a raging river turned to ice in an instant. One hand curls at his side, fingers digging into his palm so hard that you know it must hurt.

He doesn't look at you. And that scares you, even more than if he'd lost his temper at you.

The moment the police car pulls away, you turn to flee. You barely manage to take a step before a hand shoots out, long fingers closing around your wrist with enough force to make you gasp.

"So," Mydei's voice is low and edged with something dangerous when he speaks, "Helena, huh?"

Hearing that name spoken like that — in the same voice that had once called it so tenderly — feels like being shot point blank in the chest. You try to jerk your arm back, but his grip doesn't loosen in the slightest. "Let go," you hiss, panic spiking in your veins.

The laugh that he lets out is short, harsh, and stripped of any real humour. "Why?" he says. "Helena always used to enjoy play-fighting with me, back in Carmitis. Did that change once you came back to Okhema? Or was it never real to begin with?" He leans in closer, eyes burning like a pyre of congealed anger and pain and hurt. "What part of you was real? Was any part of the person I loved ever real?"

The person that he loved. Helena — oh, she'd been bold, bright, fearless. Laughed with her entire body, flirted without apology, took up space like she deserved it. Of course, of course he loved her.

And she isn't you. You'd left her behind when you came back to Okhema — to your childhood friends, your family, your boring nine to five life.

But you can't bring yourself to speak. The truth sits heavy at the back of your throat, refusing to budge, and you press your lips tightly together instead, unwilling to confront the look on his face. Your silence, however, only seems to stoke Mydei's anger further. His gaze searches your face, desperate now, looking for anything trace of emotion — guilt, regret, denial, something — but finds none.

"Do you even know what you did to me?" he snaps at last, the restraint finally cracking. "Do you have any idea how I came here every Saturday for a year — a year! — waiting like a fool?"

His voice drops again, rougher now. It's raw with an emotion you don't dare to name.

"I stood on that damn bridge for hours. I watched the river. Worrying about you, wondering if something had happened. If I did something to make you disappear." His jaw clenches hard. "And all this time, you've been here. Alive. Fine. Working for my company, even. Living with another name."

His eyes flick down to where he's holding you, then back up to your face, something dark and wounded passing through them.

"Say something," he demands, quieter now. It comes out almost like a plea, and somehow, that is worse. "Come on. Say anything."

You can't.

Your throat has closed up entirely, like your body has decided that silence is the only thing keeping you upright. If you open your mouth, you're sure that the first thing that spills out will not be words, but tears — and you refuse to let him see that. Not now. Not when he already looks at you like this.

The hurt on his face morphs back into anger, like a reflex. "Why did you even come to work for my company, then?" he snaps, frustration bleeding through the fraying edges of his restraint. "If you were going to do this — if you were going to disappear and resurface under a different name — you should have made sure our paths would never cross again." His grip loosens a smidge, but his voice doesn't. "Why did you have to come back into my life like this?"

This. At least this — this — you can explain.

"I didn't want to," you try to plead, the words finally scraping out of you. "I really didn't. I just—" You suck in a deep breath, force yourself to carry on. "I didn't have a choice. I needed the job, and I didn't know it was your company at first when I went for the interview. If I did, I would never have—"

You must have said something wrong, because Mydei's face only crumples further. "You didn't have a choice," he repeats slowly, as if the words taste bitter in his mouth. "I can't believe I… I had no idea that you—" He cuts himself off with a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "If you really can't stand working in the same company as me, quit, then."

Those words make your breath catch in your throat. Even now— especially now — you're still painfully aware of the practicalities of life, the job that pays the rent and bills that you can't afford to lose.

"Please," the plea slips out before you can stop it. Your voice wobbles traitorously despite your best efforts. "Please don't fire me."

Mydei's tirade cuts off abruptly. He stares at you for a long moment. You dig your nails into your palms until you can feel crescent shaped grooves etched into your skin.

Then, all the anger leaves his face at once. It's replaced by something far worse, though — hurt, worn so openly across his normally impassive face it almost makes you crumble at once. He takes a step back, and then another, before he barks out a wet, mangled laugh.

When he looks at you again, his golden eyes have gone hard. "All this time," Mydei says, his voice dangerously even now, "some part of me — some stupid, pathetic part — was holding out for some sort of hope. Waiting for some kind of explanation."

You bite your lower lip, feeling your hands start to tremble slightly. "So, thank you. Thank you for helping me realise I don't need one anymore — because all of it was just a lie."

Mydei turns away, the line of his jaw set tight, and strides towards the river. Alarm flares in your chest, and you scramble after him, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. He stops at the railing just overlooking the river and reaches into his pocket. All you catch is a brief glint of silver, clutched tightly in his hand, before he hurls it into the water.

It vanishes without a sound.

He doesn't look back. You stand frozen, half in shock, a hollow numbness settling in your chest as you watch him walk to his car and get in without a word. And just like that, his car disappears down the street, leaving you completely alone.

He threw his ring.

When you'd first returned to Okhema, you'd thought that you would be able to tuck these memories away like old photographs — stashed away in some treasure box, only viewing them occasionally through the warm-toned, vignette lenses of summer nostalgia. But now, Mydei has shredded them all to pieces, leaving nothing but the torn scraps at your feet.

Behind you, the river continues to flow.

Mydei drives.

He doesn't know where he's going, but it doesn't matter. He just drives, hands clamped so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles ache. The city bleeds past his windows in glowing smears of colour, traffic lights and storefronts stretching into indistinct streaks against the dark. Anywhere. Anywhere will do. All he needs is distance — as much of it as possible, between him and you.

He drives past familiar streets, until the skyscrapers dissolve into dark spires of shadow and glass behind him, city lights blurring into the skyline. Only then does he pull over next to the curb of some random, dimly lit neighbourhood. The engine drops to a low, idling hum — the only sound in the otherwise suffocating silence.

Mydei grips the wheel until his knuckles turn white, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to anchor himself. It doesn't. All he sees is your face — the shock, the horror, how you'd recoiled at the sight of him. The way your shoulders had drawn in, defensive, as if he were something to be endured rather than someone you once ran toward without hesitation.

You'd never given him your real name. The person he'd loved all this while was nothing more than a lie.

And worse, you hadn't explained a thing. Not really.

You'd stayed silent through his questions, through the anger and hurt that he hadn't managed to hide. When you did speak, it had only been to tell him that you hadn't wanted to work under him — that if you had a choice, you would've avoided him entirely. That you'd been afraid he'd use his power over you, that he'd fire you so callously.

As if that's all he is to you now. As if that's how you've thought of him, all this while.

But one detail, despite everything, had cut deeper than anything else.

Your left hand had been empty.

He'd worn that ring every single day, believing that as long as he still kept it on him, there was still something, at least, binding him to you. A connection he had been unable to bring himself to sever, despite his better judgment. He'd told himself that it didn't mean anything, that it was just metal and memory, but he'd never once taken it off. Not even when the mere sight of it had hurt.

Meanwhile, this whole time, your own finger had been bare.

Mydei wonders when you got rid of it. Whether you slipped it off the moment you'd landed in Okhema, ready for a fresh start — or worse, whether you'd taken it off back there, at the airport, right after you'd watched him disappear through security. Whether you'd dropped it into a bin, or left it behind in some nameless place, or let it fall into the sea, like it never mattered at all.

The thought makes his chest seize. It feels like he's bleeding out slowly, invisibly, like a wound that won’t close. You might as well have taken a knife and done it yourself.

This is a good thing, he tells himself repeatedly. Now, there's no false hope, no ambiguity. It's really over. You can move on.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to crush the feeling beneath logic and cold, immutable fact. But the pressure just keeps building — hurricane waves battering relentlessly against the walls he's built. One crack forms. And then another.

A quiet sound escapes him before he can stop it. Then another. And another.

Mydei folds forward, forehead pressed against the cool leather of the steering wheel, and finally lets himself cry.

You're still standing by the railing.

Everything feels dulled, sounds arriving late and muffled, lights smear instead of shine, like you're submerged underwater. Beneath you, the river keeps moving — dark and relentless. As though nothing irrevocable has just been torn out of your chest and shattered beyond repair.

In a haze, you turn and walk back down the stairs — the same ones Mydei had chased you up earlier, his voice sharp with anger, with hurt. Your legs carry you without asking, without waiting for permission, until you find yourself at the water’s edge again, staring at the place where the concrete gives way to the current.

You find your eyes drifting up to the railing, where he had been standing at earlier. The arc that the ring had taken is burned into your mind, an afterimage superimposed clearly onto film. For a second, you almost expect to see it again, frozen mid-flight, suspended there if you just look hard enough.

You look down at the water again.

And then, for reasons that you can't quite bring yourself to speak aloud, you step into the river.

The frigid water floods your shoes instantly, soaking your pants up to your calves, your knees. "Oh," you mutter, flinching against the cold. "Oh—oh my god, it's so cold…" You stand here for a moment, teeth chattering, the shock stealing your breath for a second. You must be crazy.

Still, something in you refuses to leave it behind.

You bend down, fumbling to turn on your phone's flashlight, and begin to search the bottom of the river. You don't know how long you look, fingers feeling along the worn pebbles and silt until they're aching and numb from the cold, but you don't stop. A couple of people slow to give you looks of concern as they walk by.

But the river is wide, and the ring is small. Just as your resolve starts to chip — when the cold is starting to get unbearable and doubt creeps in — you feel your fingers brush against something small and round.

Your breath stutters.

Carefully, you curl your numb fingers around the object and lift it from the water. There, lying in the palm of your hand, is a ring.

A gasp escapes you. Hands shaking, you reach beneath the neckline of your shirt and pull out the thin chain hidden beneath. The silver band dangling from its end catches the light, and you hold the ring up beside it.

They match.

Hot tears spill down your face without warning, and suddenly, you're laughing and sobbing almost hysterically all at once. "I found you," you choke hoarsely at the ring clutched tight in your fingers, wiping desperately at your eyes and nose with your other hand. "I found you, oh, I found you…"

You sag there in the freezing water, holding the cold metal to your chest. Whatever comes next, whatever hurts again, at least you have proof — proof that the two of you existed.

You wake up the next day with a throat that feels like sandpaper and a nose so blocked that it makes you consider whether breathing is optional. Unsurprisingly, you don't get very far out of bed. Phainon drops by in the late afternoon, armed with a thermos of warm broth and the unmistakable air of someone who has already decided you're an idiot.

"Yes, it's store-bought, not cooked," he grumbles preemptively as he drops his coat over the back of your chair. "I'm not giving you food poisoning on top of the cold you already have." You can hear your cousin muttering endlessly about pneumonia and clinical insanity and wading into rivers in the middle of winter as he patters about in your tiny apartment, turning up the thermostat and adjusting your blankets.

You squint at him through the haze of fever meds and smile anyway, a little dopey. "Thanks for coming over, Phai."

He clicks his tongue at you, but doesn't manage to stay upset for long. "You're going to drink it all."

"Okay."

"Even if it's bland."

"Okay."

He narrows his eyes at your uncharacteristic cooperativeness. "And you're staying in bed for the rest of today. No touching your work laptop, or I'm throwing it out of the window."

You just keep smiling. "Okay."

Suspicious, he mutters something under his breath and heads for the kitchenette, the microwave door thumping shut a moment later. Left alone, you tug the blankets up higher up your chin and let your fingers curl around the chain under your sweater — right where two rings slide together, side by side, resting over your heart.

The water laps at Mydei's knees.

"Oh my god…" he mutters as he wades through the river, shivering in the pale morning light. "It's so fucking cold…"

[rhenuvee]

Back again for part 2!!!

Can we talk about how MC is so me... the amount of times I would think of some over the top scenarios just to try and avoid people

"And besides, the one he loves is Helena — not you" - This hit harder than it should I think (for me)... :( ik this isn't really the main focus but I'm a big fan of themes with identity and the questioning of different "versions" of ourselves

omg not Mydei sitting right across from us as we present... (reminds me when I was in 3rd grade I was sweating bullets from presenting bc my crush was there and I actively avoided one side of the room LOL)

"The sharp line of his jaw, the familiar slope of his shoulders beneath crisp fabric, the flash of crimson ink curling just above his collarbone, barely visible where he's left two buttons of his shirt undone…" - Thank you, MC is so real for that... I too would daydream of Mydei's boobs while presenting

"Under his piercing gaze, the mask feels less like a shield and more like a flimsy prop." - I love this line too... again I'm projecting 😭

Wait so did Mydei really not recognize us?? Us with our team rocket level of disguise??

Unrelated but LONGANS!!! Dragon eyes lol

Also unrelated, but I love seeing the differences of what Gorgo and Eurypon's relationship is in fanfics- I love that here Gorgo still remembers the romance even though Eurypon is no longer like that rn

Wait- WE'RE ACROSS FROM HIM?? Oh shit he approached us we're really doing this...

Oh wait nvm we're not... we're running

Oh my god MYDEI JUMPED IN THE RIVER FOR US???

The fact that we had to reveal our identity (+ that we are Helena) because the officer asked us... omg this is the worst scenario to be in to come clean about it

Oh shit oh shit he's confronting us now

Oh no :( Mydei is really mad at us :(

(I mean honestly deserved because we're not really giving him anything but I FEEL SO BAD)

NO FUCK HE ACTUALLY THREW THE RING AWAY THIS TIME... IM SO SAD

"Whether you slipped it off the moment you'd landed in Okhema, ready for a fresh start — or worse, whether you'd taken it off back there, at the airport, right after you'd watched him disappear through security." - MAN THIS HURTS 💔

We made Mydei cry 💔💔

"I found you," you choke hoarsely at the ring clutched tight in your fingers, wiping desperately at your eyes and nose with your other hand. "I found you, oh, I found you…" - MC going to find the ring and surprisingly finding it in the river made me so relieved...

STOP- MYDEI WENT BACK FOR THE RINGS

IM IN SHAMBLES

mae youre kind of evil for ending pt 2 like this...

SCREAMING... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE DESPITE THE AMOUNT OF ANGST HERE I (selfishly) NEED THEM TO GET BACK TOGETHER

ALSO ABOUT TO CRASH OUT BECAUSE WHY DID WE FUMBLE MYDEI -> it does make me more curious about MC's reasons/story though

Tbf it is always refreshing to see an MC who's not entirely "goody-goody". Like it's clear she has some kind of internal issues, and sometimes they just can't be translated right now... and that's okay! Sometimes humans are complicated like that and it's not always black and white.

...is what I would say IF WE DIDN'T FUMBLE MYDEI

Thank you again Mae for writing this lovely part 2!!! Now for the last part ooooo....

[elysiumae]

runaway.

⟢ pairing: mydei x f!reader

⟢ word count: 10k

⟢ tags: modern!au, cto!mydei, romance, angst, mydei becomes the victim of someone's hot girl summer, slightly problematic reader, based off my favourite k-drama lovestruck in the city

After a sun-soaked summer in Carmitis, you return to normalcy in a shoebox apartment in Okhema City. You accept a job at Kremnos Engineering, determined to rebuild your life, only to find out that your new boss is a familiar face — the same fling that you'd vanished on a year ago without a trace.

⟢ chapters: one | two | three

Mydei is a man of routine.

Once, he might have described his life in these words: dull, perhaps not quite tedious, but certainly monotonous. They aren’t insults, though. To Mydei, routine is a familiar comfort — the ease with which shoes slip on after being moulded to the shape of one’s feet, the instinctive reach for a toothbrush by the sink in the wee hours of the morning. An amalgamation of small habits worn smooth over the years, the accompanying notes that make up the ostinato of a song.

And on the first Saturday of each month, that ingrained rhythm brings him to Kephale Plaza. 

He makes the twelve minute drive into the city center, evening lights bleeding into long, liquid streaks across his windshield. The parking spot outside Halovian is narrow and difficult to access — which is why it’s usually left empty. He takes it. The air has turned cool with the edge of autumn, and so Mydei pulls on his coat as he steps out of the car.

The rest of the way he could walk with his eyes shut. He crosses the busy road first, then takes a quick left. Fifteen paces down, another turn, following the bend until the glare of the city fades. It’s quieter in the park, shielded from the commercial billboards by a line of maple trees, and the air carries with it a damp, earthy scent. Mydei lets his fingers brush over the flowers as he crosses the arched bridge, the edges of their delicate petals curling inward from the cold.

He steps down to the river. They call it a river, but it isn’t, really. Kremnos Engineering designed it years ago, back when Okhema was still growing — a narrow waterway cutting through the heart of the city. An attempt to incorporate nature into an otherwise concrete landscape.

A facsimile, pretending to be something that it’s not.

Mydei arrives at its southern bank at exactly seven fifty-five. He glances down at the shallow, warbling stream, the thirteen stepping stones that will take him back to the other side.

He doesn’t cross them.

Instead, he sits on one of the stone benches nearby, hands tucked neatly in his pockets. Every few minutes, his head lifts at the sound of footsteps on the path: a jogger with headphones and a sweat-darkened collar, an old couple shuffling past sedately arm in arm, a man being tugged along by his dog. And each time, his shoulders fall almost imperceptibly, before his gaze drifts back to the water again.

Still, Mydei waits. He waits until the sun has long set behind the glass-steel spires in the distance, until the lamps lining the water have lit up like fireflies and the wind rolling off the water nips at his throat. Then, the clock tower in Kephale Plaza begins its usual toll.

A bronze note that he knows by heart. It rings out nine times — just as it has, every time — and each one sinks into Mydei’s bones like the stones in the river below.

He holds his position for one more moment. Then, with a sigh, he rises from the bench and turns his back on the water. His steps carry him along the path, back towards the city’s bright, beating, indifferent heart.

Alone.

Kremnos was once a small engineering firm in Castrum Kremnos. It’d started out in a single, rented room above a machine parts wholesaler, located in some industrial district whose name Mydei can barely remember. Now, decades later, it stands as the biggest EPC in all of Amphoreus.

Their Okhema headquarters occupies the top five floors of a prime commercial tower in the central business district, and overlooks a skyline shaped by their own hand — Adriose shipping port and the Bastion flyover being just a couple of mega-projects they’ve undertaken in the last decade. And in the evening, the sky burns an orange-ochre ombre as the sea catches the dying light, flint sparking against the waves. Investors and partners always seem more amenable when faced with the view.

Unfortunately, Mydei doesn’t have the time to enjoy it. His attention is fixed on the wall of monitors in front of him instead, each one displaying data from a digital twin of the Dome — a megastructure meant to crown Aidonia’s newest international airport. He studies the screens in silence, eyes flicking between readouts and models, only looking away when a soft knock comes at his door.

“Come in.”

His secretary steps inside, a cardboard box in her hands. “Your things from the old office,” she says as she sets it down carefully. Mydei looks up, surprised. “You’ve been talking about going back for these for a while, but looking at your schedule…” She shoots him a sympathetic look. “I told the courier to be extra careful with it.”

Mornings before sunrise, nights long after dark — he hasn’t even had the time in the past few weeks to make the drive downtown himself. Becoming CTO of a multinational corporation does that to you, unfortunately. Regardless, he’s grateful. “You have my thanks.”

She smiles, gives a polite nod and moves to leave. Mydei waits until the door has shut behind her to pull off his glasses, setting them on his desk before he sinks back into his chair. His eyes are sore from staring at the screens, and there’s a dull ache in the back of his neck that no amount of ergonomics will fix. Exhaling slowly, he drags the heels of his hands down his face, before glancing at the box.

He pulls it over and eases the lid off. Inside is a collection of familiar artifacts that had once littered his desk — a battered calculator with its numbers worn clean off the buttons, an ugly clay lion his mother had got for him while holidaying in Jericha. A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth when he pulls out the photostrip. To commemorate our final finals, Phainon had joked, terribly — all of them crammed into a booth too small for five almost-but-not-yet-quite adults. Mydei runs a thumb across their bright grins, unweathered except for the shadows under their eyes, before he carefully sets it aside.

The last thing inside the box is a photograph. Mydei lifts it carefully, fingers brushing over the wooden frame as he does. Within its borders is a memory preserved in perfect colour — a sun bleached stretch of sand, and a turquoise wave captured forever in a perfect curl. 

The beaches in Carmitis had been perfect for surfing. He’d gone there for a two month sabbatical, as a reward to himself, for closing a deal of a lifetime. The project would propel Kremnos beyond the shores of Amphoreus into international renown, and his father had been happy to grant him the time off. Two months of salt air and the horizon, trading the gravity of responsibility for the buoyancy of the tide.

But that summer, it hadn’t been the waves that had swept him away.

Mydei’s fingers curl around the photoframe. As though if he grasps it tightly enough, he would be able to shatter the glass and fall back through time itself, back onto that sandy beach. Then he might be about to hear your laugh again, to run his fingers through your salt stiffened tangles, and this time Mydei would be smarter, know better — and he would cherish each moment like a shining treasure, hold on to you tighter so that—

His phone vibrates on his desk. The screen lights up with a familiar name.

“That was fast,” Phainon remarks the second the call connects, his tone laced with that usual, quick amusement of his. “You usually let me wait longer than that. Feeling sentimental today?”

“No,” Mydei says, and knows instantly that it has come out too sharp, too quick. “Why are you calling?”

His friend just sighs, frustratingly perceptive. “Let me guess,” Phainon says, brushing past Mydei’s question entirely. The words pierce just like his mother’s sharp eyed gaze does, and Mydei hates the way it makes him feel — like a child once more, caught with one hand in the cookie jar and crumbs all over his small mouth. “You were thinking about her again.”

Mydei doesn’t respond. He looks down at the photo in his hand again.

“You are. I can practically hear you sighing over the phone.” Phainon pauses a second in his ribbing, almost as though he’s weighing whether to press further. He does. “It’s been a year, Mydei. You knew her for two months. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Mydei answers automatically, although his eyes keep drifting back to the photograph. “I’m over her.”

Phainon snorts, the sound thick with disbelief. He sounds thoroughly unconvinced. “Right.” Another tactical pause. “Well, in that case, you wouldn’t mind meeting my cousin. She’s smart, funny, maybe a little quiet — but a real riot once you get to know her. You two can talk brutalism and art deco and mid-century modern whatever. It’ll be cute.”

This again. Mydei pinches the bridge of his nose, a familiar ache blooming behind his eyes. “No, Phainon.”

“Come on, just one drink. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“An evening of polite conversation that ends with both of us relieved that it’s over,” Mydei replies bluntly. His gaze is still fixed on that wave, frozen in time. “I’m not interested.”

Phainon is silent for a few seconds. Mydei is wondering whether he should hang up when he speaks again, and when he does it’s to grumble at him. “You’re a certified social hermit,” Phainon mutters, and Mydei braces himself — he can feel the familiar lecture building up already. “The only reason you didn’t graduate four years of university with a net zero friend count is—”

“—because of you, I know—”

“Because I practically adopted you! I should get tax deductibles for charity work, honestly.” Phainon sounds exasperated, even over the phone. He still ends up relenting with a huff, though. “Fine. No cousin. But you’re still a human being, and human beings need to see other human beings outside of boardrooms and suits. So, we’re hanging out.” His tone turns bright, like he’s already made the decision for Mydei. “The gang hasn’t seen your face in forever.”

He’s busy, Mydei wants to say. But he knows his friend means well, and that knowledge warms him almost as much as it unsettles him — the quiet discomfort of being read so easily. It’s a quality that Mydei has always admired in him, which is why he finds himself quite unable to resent the man’s habit of bulldozing straight through his boundaries — all with a grin and no apology.

Unfortunate, he thinks dourly to himself.

“Alright,” he concedes at last. “Drinks at our usual place. I’ll pay.”

“Deal! But don’t even think about driving home — I’m going to make sure you actually enjoy yourself this time, got it?”

Mydei shakes his head, unable to help the small smile that threatens him. “I’m hanging up now.”

The line clicks dead. Silence settles over his office once more, only broken by the low hum of his laptop. Suddenly weary, Mydei sets his phone back down, before his gaze falls to the photograph in his hand once more. 

He allows his thumb to trace the frame for only a second longer. Then he sets it on the desk, turns it down so that the waves are no longer in view, and returns to work.

The cardboard box lands on your kitchen floor with a dull thud.

“Is that the final one?” you ask, from where you’re crouched by the sink. The remainder of your cleaning supplies are lined up next to you, a row of half-emptied soldiers standing at attention. Phainon lets out a groan as he straightens up, strands of white hair plastered to his damp forehead with sweat. He tugs at the hem of his shirt to wipe at it.

You throw a cleaning rag at him. “Keep your clothes on, whore.”

He catches it mid-air with an athlete’s reflexes, pretending to aim it at you with a snort before he lets his arm drop. “One, two… yeah, that’s the last of them,” he confirms for you, his voice echoes lightly in the small, sparse space. Phainon’s gaze sweeps the apartment quickly — not that there’s much to see, anyway — before it comes back to you with a warm, unguarded smile. “It’s nice. I like it.”

Nice is probably a generous term for the old studio apartment, but you accept the compliment with a nod regardless. After the ordeal with your previous inconsiderate roommates, securing this place had felt like a dream — four walls of your own, a miraculously functioning toilet, and most importantly, rent that wouldn't eat your paycheck whole.

It had been everything you needed. The only real drawback to this place was the three floor walk-up, which had made the thought of moving in without professional help a nightmare. But Phainon seemed to be able to anticipate that, somehow, even without a word from you. You’d opened your door this morning to him dressed in an atrociously faded tank top and grinning on your doorstep, quite literally strong-arming his way into assistance with a stubborn willingness to lift heavy things.

And well, you weren’t exactly in a position to refuse.

“Thanks for your help,” you tell him as you stow away the last of the cleaning supplies. “I would have killed my back carrying all those boxes up on my own.”

Phainon shrugs, casually. “Don’t sweat it. I think of it as a free gym session.” He flexes a bicep and you flash him a look of pure disgust, which just makes him laugh. He braces a hip against the counter to watch you with those impossibly blue eyes. “You know,” he says, and his tone softens just a fraction, “you could have just moved in with me.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he means it. Your cousin hasn’t changed a bit ever since you were kids, even after moving here from Aedes Elysiae for university. Sure, he’s shot up at a terrifying rate and put on some muscle — a lot of it, actually — but he still cries at sad movies and somehow manages to retain a heart too soft for Okhema’s relentless grind. 

He’s all wrong, you think fondly. The face of a fuckboy without an ounce of the ego that should come with it. It actually wouldn’t be terrible, sharing an apartment with him. But you shake your head.

Phainon gives you a searching look, but you drop your gaze, busying your hands with an open box on the counter. Among all your relatives, he’s the one that you're closest to. But his concern has a tendency of spilling over into smothering — though you’re fairly certain that’s more your issue than his — and the fact that it comes too close to pity grates on you, too.

Even now, you can feel the weight of the questions perched on the tip of his tongue. Like there is a firm dam in place, holding back his curiosity to avoid dredging up old memories. Knowing that he’d be walking on eggshells in his own home because of you is more than enough to make you firmly refuse.

“Nah. I need my own space, I think.” You hold up a hand. “Besides, you snore like a nine point five magnitude earthquake.”

Phainon looks extremely scandalised by that accusation. “Excuse me? I sleep on my side now, thank you very much.” He lobs the damp washcloth you’d thrown at him back in your direction and you dodge, laughing. His smile is fond as he studies you for a beat with those too blue eyes. “Well, I guess it must be nice to have some peace and quiet after all those awful roommates. I still can’t believe they had sex in your bed.” He makes a face, as if he’s just bitten into an unripe fruit. 

“Nasty,” you agree. “I hope they get chlamydia.”

Your cousin blinks. “Err…”

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm of unpacking the rest of your things. A playlist of Ast Rickley’s most popular hits plays on your phone, his soulful voice crooning to every corner of your apartment. When the final cabinet is shut and your mattress is no longer bare, you let yourself collapse onto the cheap floorboards with a sigh.

A draft whispers under the door — a reminder that autumn is here, and that heating is expensive. You make a mental note to stock up on heat tech the next time you head into town.

Phainon’s face suddenly looms in your field of vision, upside down and grinning. “Mission accomplished,” he announces with a salute, back from where you’d dispatched him to stow your pots in the overhead cupboards. “And I’m starving.”

You push his head away, and your fingers come away damp with sweat. Yuck. “You can take whatever you want from my fridge.”

He makes a show of peering into the barren appliance. “Your fridge is basically decorative, idiot.”

“Right.” You never got into the habit of cooking, even when you’d first started working. Long nights and overtime had been the norm, and by the time you stumbled home from your previous job, you’d barely had the energy to get undressed, let alone prepare a meal. “Starve, then.”

You let your head fall back to the floor with a thud, but Phainon grabs your arm and hauls you unceremoniously to your feet. “I saw a minimart downstairs,” he declares. “Let’s get popsicles.”

“It’s literally autumn, Phai.”

He shrugs, thoroughly unbothered as he practically manhandles you towards the door. “And since when have we let something like that stop us?”

And five minutes later, the two of you are back upstairs, backs against the lumpy couch. The only sounds are the rhythmic whir-click of the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles above, and the quiet, sticky noise of two adults eating rainbow popsicles side by side. You remember sitting on the curb outside Phainon’s childhood home and staring up at the ichor-rinsed summer sky. The synthetic fruit flavour tastes exactly the same as it did twenty years ago.

For a long time, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, watching the fan blades slice through the cooling late-afternoon air. The cold sweetness melts faster than you’d like, dripping down your fingers in sticky rivulets. You stick out your tongue to catch the drops.

Phainon’s voice is quiet, cutting through the hum of the fan. “I missed you.”

He doesn’t look at you. Just keeps his eyes on the spinning blades, as if he’s commenting on the rainy weather or a store in the new shopping mall downtown. But the weight of his words fill your small, empty apartment, sugar clinging to your tongue sticky sweet, heavy with everything else he’d been careful not to say.

You take another slow bite of your popsicle, and nod.

“It’s good to be back.”

You have a special hatred reserved for job interviews.

It’s ironic, actually, considering the role that you’re interviewing for — Marketing Strategist, Strategic Content Department. You can craft a narrative for a product, a service, even an entire corporate vision with believable enthusiasm, but turning the camera inward to talk about personal strengths and career journey feels nauseatingly vulgar. You feel the same way as you sit in that sleek, intimidating conference room at Kremnos’ headquarters, expecting to fumble through your usual corporate script.

The only thing that’s keeping you grounded is your phone. Or, more accurately, the messages that have been blowing it up all morning. First, a joint text from Stelle and Caelus, featuring a poorly photoshopped picture of your head on a muscular bodybuilder. The caption “GO CRUSH THEM!!!!” had been followed by several bicep and fire emojis. Next had been an offer for a last minute practice run from March, who’d then volunteered Dan Heng for a good-interviewer-bad-interviewer drill.

“Why am I the bad interviewer?” Dan Heng had messaged, sounding completely offended even over text. “Well, am I the bad interviewer, then?” March had sent back, equally incredulous, and then the chat group had proceeded to devolve into absolute fiery, meme-slinging chaos.

Much to your surprise, however, the interview defies expectation. The panel skips over the glaring gap in your resume from a year ago entirely, and instead focuses on having you walk them through a complex case study — one, coincidentally, that mirrors a project in your own portfolio.

Before you know it, your mental script has been discarded. You’re leaning forward, hands animated as you dive into the gritty details and trade-offs that shaped the corporate vision you once helped bring to life. The interviewers nod along, their questions feeling less like an interrogation and more like genuine curiosity. Almost scarily similar, you think, to a real conversation. 

One of the interviewers, a lady with gold spun hair, shakes your hand on your way out. “I was very impressed,” she says, and your heart thumps, despite the fact that she probably says that to every interviewee. Her grip is firm. “I hope we’ll see you again soon.”

Well, that’s wasn’t completely terrible is a thought you allow yourself as you step out of the elevator. A tentative sense of optimism trails you into the lobby and you swat it away, superstitious about giving it too much space to grow. No expectations, no disappointments. You’d learnt your lesson the hard way, the first time.

You root around in your bag for your phone as you weave through the midday crowd. Phainon had been pestering you all last night, insistent that you update him the moment the interview ended. You glance up to search for the exit.

And you see him.

He’s standing about thirty paces from the revolving doors — immaculate in a tailored suit that probably costs more than your monthly rent, sharp lines sculpting his powerful frame. He’s speaking with a circle of important looking businessmen, and even from this distance, his presence radiates authority. Gravitas, so natural it’s almost tangible, obvious in the way that they nod attentively, leaning in to catch his every word.

He looks nothing like the man you’d met in Carmitis. That man had been a surfer with a penchant for chasing sunrise waves, all golden eyes and sun kissed skin. He would sigh but let you braid his hair back, regardless — doesn’t it keep getting into your eyes, De? — before pulling you after him into the surf. His wardrobe had consisted entirely of faded tank tops and salt-stiffened bermuda shorts. That was the man who’d — if only for a brief while — loved you.

What is he doing here?

You don’t know how long you stand there, feet rooted to the floor, unable to tear your eyes away. But it’s too long — because then he’s tilting his head to address an associate standing at his side, lifting a hand to emphasize something important. The shift in angle brings his eyes directly to yours.

For a single moment, the busy lobby and all the people in it fall away. The two of you stare at each other through the moving crowd — a pair of flies suspended in amber. His gaze is blank at first. Almost like he doesn’t quite recognise you, or he can’t believe that you’re here. And then the cool indifference on his face fractures all of a sudden, right down the middle, to give way to shock.

His mouth forms a word. You can’t hear it from here, but you don’t need to. You’ve seen his lips form that name a thousand times — curled at the edges with a laugh, panted into the crook of your neck, murmured against your lips like a prayer.

Helena?

Your heart stumbles in your chest, and you take an instinctive step back. Your heel catches on the floor.

At your reaction, something in Mydei’s reaction shifts. The shock hardens into sharp, focused purpose, and he starts moving — doesn’t even spare the men around him a single word of excuse — all without breaking eye contact, cutting directly through the crowd with single minded intent.

Towards you.

That shatters your paralysis. You spin on your heel and begin to walk in the opposite direction with your head down, as quickly as you can without breaking into a sprint.

“Wait!”

His voice cuts through the crowd, sharp and desperate. You don’t dare to look back, shoving through a group of startled office workers. You can feel him, the way the air parts as he pushes through the same crowd, his longer strides closing the distance between the two of you. A panicked breath catches in your throat.

You duck behind a pillar, hand skimming the cold surface. Your eyes scan desperately for an escape route. There! The universal symbol for restrooms. You lunge, shoulder connecting with the heavy door to shove it open, and you manage to slip inside just as rapid footsteps round the corner. The door clicks shut behind you.

You fumble the lock with shaking fingers before pressing your back to the door, chest heaving and lungs screaming. For a long moment, there is only the faint mechanical hum of the ventilation system and your own heavy breathing. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm in the cage of your chest. Did he see you? Did he see which way you went? 

It feels like an eternity before you hear the frustrated pound of a fist against a wall, from the other side of the door. It’s followed by a low, muffled curse — Mydei. There is a long pause, then another familiar voice, murmuring a few words you can’t quite make out, and then the footsteps turn around and retreat, fading into the distance. 

And then, nothing.

Only after everything is silent do you let yourself slump fully against the door, grasping at your knees as you try to make sense of what just happened.  Mydei was here. In this very building. Just on the other side of this door. And now, he’s gone.

You’ve lost him again.

Outside, Mydei stands alone in the corridor, his hand stinging from the impact with the wall. He’s breathing hard, and the tie around his neck suddenly feels like a noose. He yanks it loose with a frustrated movement as he scans the empty hallway.

Nothing. It’s almost as though you were never there. You’ve disappeared as completely as you had the first time.

Doubt washes over him like a tidal wave. Did he really see you? Or did he hallucinate it? Has the memory of you become so blurred, that his mind had to paint you into the crowd of his own workplace?

“Mr. Mydeimos!” One of the Grove associates catches up to him, shoes squeaking on the polished floor and his face a picture of bewildered alarm. “Did something happen? Is everything alright?”

Mydei doesn’t know what to say. I just saw a ghost of the only woman I’ve ever given my heart to. The confession rests on his tongue, absurd and unprofessional. He runs a hand through his hair, realises it’s trembling, and lets it fall to his side, helpless.

“I don’t…” he begins, voice cracking and he swallows. “I just thought… I saw someone I used to know.”

Mydei spends the rest of the day in a daze, moving through his roles with a mechanical detachment. The hours blur together — briefings, presentations, polite smiles — all passing through him like static. And when he finally stumbles out of three back-to-back meetings, he collapses into his office chair and stares at the dark screens until Phainon calls to drag him to the pub.

The battered fish and chips are still as good as they were back in his university days, but Mydei can barely taste a thing. Phainon keeps the conversation afloat, as usual, and Hyacine shares stories from the ER that border on fictitious — “A what up their ass? Seriously?” — as Cipher shamelessly swipes pieces of breaded calamari off Castorice’s plate. It’s an easy, familiar atmosphere that used to pull him out of his head — warm, noisy and grounding.

But tonight, Mydei can’t focus on any of it.

After nearly an hour of dissociating, Cipher finally elbows him in the side. “Hey. You leave your brain back at the office or something?” Her grin is sharp with its usual mean-spirited edge, but he catches the worry eddying underneath. “You’ve been out of it all night.”

He looks up to see Hyacine and Castorice staring at him with varying levels of concern. He lifts his cup to his lips in an attempt to avoid their eyes.

“It’s nothing. Long day.”

“Bullshit,” Phainon says, cutting through the pub’s chatter. “Every day is a long day for a big-shot CTO like you. This is different.” His blue eyes narrow, and not for the first time, Mydei wishes Phainon were more like the carefree joker he appears to be and less like the perceptive psychologist he actually is. He holds the whiskey in his mouth for a few seconds, letting the smoky peat spread across his tongue before he swallows.

Hopefully, the burn will do something to steady him. It doesn’t. 

“This afternoon,” he begins, resigned. “At the office… I thought I saw her.”

Hyacine’s toothpick stills above a french fry. “Her?” The way she says it makes it clear that she knows exactly who Mydei is talking about. “Where?”

Mydei hesitates. The memory still feels raw, like the delicate skin beneath a freshly picked scab. “In Kremnos’ lobby,” he says, at last. “I was sending off some associates from the Grove when I looked up and she was just… there. Across the room. I think she saw me. And then she ran.”

Cipher exchanges a loaded glance with Castorice. “So,” Castorice says slowly. She looks like she’s choosing her words with extreme care. “Do you know if it was actually her that you saw?”

He presses his lips together. “No,” he admits.

Phainon runs a hand through his hair. The sound that escapes him is a mixture of disbelief and pity. “Mydei, come on. You’ve been working too hard. Maybe you’re really going insane. I’d suggest another surf trip, but…” He shakes his head helplessly, gestures at him. “I don’t get it. You’re usually a great judge of character. I don’t know how you fell so hard for someone like… like that.”

The words spark a defensive fire in Mydei’s gut that’s almost reflex. “You don’t know her,” he mutters, the words coming out sharper than he intended.

“Neither did you, apparently.” When Mydei shoots him a half-hearted glare, Phainon presses on, his tone softening despite the frustration. “Look, she has you completely wrapped around her finger. It was a summer fling, but it’s over now. You need to let it go.”

He opens his mouth to argue back, but Hyacine leans forward first, hands folded neatly in front of her. “This isn’t healthy, Mydei,” she says, in that gentle doctor-tone of hers. Castorice nods. Even Cifera — who would normally be the first to cheer on any stupid decision he or Phainon makes — just looks at him.

The sympathy in their eyes grates at him — partly because he wants to insist they’re wrong, and partly because he knows they are right. A sun-soaked summer. A two month long fling that had caught alight in the blink of an eye and fizzled out just as quick. He knows he’s not the first one to fall for something fleeting, and he won’t be the last.

But gods, he’s still burning.

Once, Mydei had prided himself on being a man of reason. It’s foolish to still be hung up on you. He knows that the logical thing to do is move on.

But he still remembers the last time he’d ever seen you, and the memory of it haunts him like a ghost. 

Mydei had flown back first. He’d known that the time apart would feel endless after the privilege of waking up in your arms every day, and so he’d stolen every kiss, every moment he could — from the second he’d opened his eyes to the drive to the airport. Even then, it hadn’t been enough.

“Two weeks is too long,” Mydei had muttered against his lips, and you’d laughed, arms winding around his neck to pull him down. He’d let go of his luggage handle to wrap his arms more securely around you. Other travelers in the airport stared as they passed the two of you, but Mydei couldn’t bring himself to care. “Should I just take another month off? Stay with you until the surf shop lets you go?”

“Don’t be silly,” you’d replied between kisses, sounding breathless. You’d smiled at him then, so sweetly that he never would have guessed something was wrong. “Your big important job needs you back in Okhema, doesn’t it? It’ll just be two weeks.”

Two weeks was nothing. If he could go back, Mydei would have quit just to stay by your side. But he hadn’t. “I won’t be able to contact you in the meantime, though,” he’d sighed into your hair, tugging you tighter to his chest. You’d giggled. “Seriously, can’t you let me buy you a phone? I really don’t know how you’ve survived a whole summer without one…”

“And that’s quite enough of you lording your wealth over me, Mr. Rich Man,” you’d scolded, poking his nose, and he’d relented with a quiet sigh — as he always did. You’d refused every attempt from him to buy you a phone, as inconvenient as it made communication for the two of you. “It’s been nice, actually, disconnecting from everything. I’m kind of dreading getting one once I get back to Okhema.”

And then you’d smiled at him so brightly, and just like before, every excuse — as absurd and silly as it was — had completely slipped his mind. Don’t worry. I’ll find you. It’s more romantic that way, right?

He’d kissed you again, dreading the distance. A lingering press of the lips, slow and indulgent, when the watch on his wrist had buzzed. Ten minutes until his gate closed.

You’d glanced down before your eyes widened in panic. “Ten minutes!” you hissed, pushing lightly against his chest. “You’re going to miss your flight!” You tried to step out of the circle of his arms, but he only pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair, inhaling the scent of salt and summer one last time. Two weeks.

“You remember, right?”

“How could I not?” You’d laughed then, your face softening with fond exasperation. “Eight o’clock on the first Saturday of the month, at the stepping stones by the Janus bridge. See?”

“You’ll be there?”

“Yes, yes.” Your voice had been gentle but sure. You’d squeezed his hand, a comfort and a promise. “Of course I’ll be there.”

Mydei had stolen one last kiss (or two, or three, or plenty more) before sprinting to catch his flight, your words clutched tightly to his chest as he stumbled through the gate. Two hours and fifteen minutes, a thousand miles. That would be the distance between the two of you, for the next two weeks.

Every second had felt like torture. But he’d spent the time productively, clearing a generous space in his closet for your chaotic array of clothes, hunting down that obscure brand of coffee you insisted on drinking and buying softer pillows that he’d noticed you liked. He’d called his mother and told her all about you. You’ll love her, Ma, he’d insisted. Gorgo had just laughed, her amusement palpable even over the phone, and said, any girl able to ensnare my son like that? I’m sure I will. 

Mydei had blushed.

And on the first Saturday of the month, at exactly seven thirty in the evening, Mydei had showed up at the stepping stones next to the Janus bridge with a bouquet of flowers he’d carefully arranged himself, his heart thumping a nervous rhythm against his ribs. And he’d waited.

And waited.

He’d waited until the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its final, dying rays of light across the city. He’d waited as the evening grew cool and the lights began to glitter on the water, and a light drizzle began to fall, soaking into the wool of his jacket. He waited until a cold, hollow realisation had settled deep in his bones, a truth he could no longer ignore. 

You weren’t coming. 

You’d never shown up. And that, Mydei thinks, is the real reason he will never be able to move on. Because the true agony wasn’t in missing you, or mourning the time you’d spent together. It was the way that things never truly ended. Perhaps it would have been easier, to let go of things if the two of you had fought. But you’d woken up early that morning and made him those uneven pancakes with too much syrup that he secretly loved, kissed him probably a hundred times between the beach and the airport, and sent him off with a smile. 

“Go,” you'd mouthed, waving vigorously from the departure gate. You’d been smiling, that wide and unrestrained grin that he’d fallen in love with. “I’ll see you soon.”

What happened? Mydei had asked himself in the days, weeks, months that had followed. When did things start to go wrong? Was it something that I did? What did I do wrong?

He's replayed every moment, over and over, searching for an answer. But he never finds one, try as he might. And that is, perhaps, the cruelest torture of all.

Phainon looks at him again. For a moment, it almost seems as if he’s going to speak, before his shoulders slump forward, defeated by Mydei’s stubbornness. He tries one last time. “You need to let it go, Mydei. For your own sake.”

Mydei knows that he’s right. That he’s pining after a summer long gone, the memory of a ghost who exists only in his memory. But his thumb finds the cheap metal band on his left hand, and suddenly, the illusion of rationality vanishes like smoke. 

“I can’t.”

The click of your apartment door locking behind you is impossibly loud. You lean against it for a moment, the cool wood a sharp contrast to the almost frantic heat still racing beneath your skin. The image has seared itself onto the back of your eyelids — Mydei in that sharp suit, his face a mask of stunned realisation. Recognition. The determined, almost desperate that he had cut through the crowd in his attempt to reach you.

Helena?

You don’t know why you’d thought that you would never see him again. It had always been a possibility, of course. Okhema might be big, but it is still only one city. But you’d always avoided that park and that river, like it was the plague — still cowardly, still afraid, nothing at all like the bold and bright facade you’d worn in Carmitis.

Helena.

You push off the door, movements stiff. Dropping your bag on the floor, you make a beeline straight for the kitchen sink to splash some cold water on your face. It doesn’t help. The adrenaline is still coursing you, leaving an uncomfortable, hollow unease in its wake.

You need to know.

Your laptop is still sitting where you’d left it this morning and you grab it, dropping to the floor to sit with your back to the sofa. The device whirs to life too slowly for your liking, its glow a small window of light in your dim apartment. You type two words into the search bar with shaking fingers.

Mydei. Kremnos.

The first result on the search engine reads ‘Kremnos Engineering: Leadership’. You swallow, but click on it anyway. The link takes you to the company’s official website, and the page is filled with professional headshots — a gallery of important looking men and women in immaculate suits. You’ve barely scrolled down once when you see him again.

In the photograph, his hair is shorter, just slightly more tamed. The suit is expensive, but it’s the authority that he’s wearing — with the effortless ease of someone used to wielding it — that really makes him stand out. You aren’t looking at Mydei. This is the CTO of Kremnos Engineering, a multinational corporation worth hundreds of billions of dollars.

A complete stranger.

But his eyes are the same. The same ones you’d kept your gaze fixed on, even as you’d clutched at the surfboard under you, terrified by the lack of balance and control. He hadn’t laughed, or even teased — just grasped your hand, his touch an anchor amidst the waves. Keep your eyes on me, he’d said, voice calm amidst the rolling crash of seawater. I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.

CTO of Kremnos Engineering. You repeat the title in your head, testing its weight. Some part of you had guessed that he was successful — it’d been evident in the way he’d spoken about his work, how easily he’d spoken about staying another month with you. There had always been a laser sharp intensity about him, but it’d been buried under his laid back, unbothered exterior. 

Mydei never went into depth when speaking about his job, and you’d deliberately chosen not to pry for details. He hadn’t brought it up again.

After a second of hesitation, you click on his photo, eyes scanning quickly over his bio. There is a laundry list of awards, acquisitions, accolades. The chasm between the man here and the one you’d known feels as deep as the ocean itself.

You shut your laptop. Something aches quietly in your chest. 

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself. We’ve gone our separate ways, now. None of this matters anymore.

The dark screen just stares back at you, silent.

The email arrives a week later.

You stare at the notification in your inbox for a solid ten minutes, a bomb nestled between spam emails and subscription notices, before you finally click on it. Your heart is racing in your chest. You brace yourself for polite rejection — the standard “thank you for your time, but unfortunately we’ve decided to move forward with another candidate” response — but you don’t see it, much to your surprise. It isn’t a rejection.

It’s an offer.

A generous one, at that. You read the numbers once, then twice, almost in disbelief. The salary is substantial, the benefits comprehensive, and every review you’ve read points to a positive company culture. It feels almost too good to be true.

Yet, one detail casts a shadow over it all.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you try to think of an appropriate reply and come up with none. You end up delaying your response for a day, torn between hesitation and practicality before the fear of them rescinding the offer wins out.

You accept, of course. You have to. It’s the most promising, stable career opportunity you’ve ever had, even compared to your past jobs. You will seize the opportunity, carve out a new chapter of life for yourself, start over the right way this time. 

And you will never, ever let Mydei see you.

The strategy is simple. You arrive early and leave late, timing your movements to avoid the main flow of human traffic. You learn where the back stairwells are, the floors accessible by the service elevators. Your desk is on one of the lower floors, far from the executive suites at the top — a comfortable distance, or so you tell yourself. 

Still, close calls are inevitable.

The first time happens in the main lobby, a week into your new job. You’re stepping towards the security gantry, looking forward to heading home after a couple hours of overtime, when you see him. The lobby is empty, and he’s coming straight towards you. Your heart lurches into your throat.

You drop your head, pretending to be completely absorbed in fumbling for your access card in your bag. He passes through the gantry next to yours, the electronic beep a sharp punctuation to your panic. The moment he’s clear, you lurch out of the building, the cool autumn evening doing nothing to slow the frantic race of your heart.

The second time is worse.

You’re running late for a meeting, moving full speed towards the elevator just as the doors begin to slide shut. You lunge forward, manage to catch them with an outstretched hand, and stumble inside — breathless and triumphant — until you see who’s already there.

Mydei is standing next to the lift panel, phone pressed to his ear. The doors close behind you. It’s too late to escape.

Fortunately, he doesn't seem to pay much attention to you, brow furrowed as he speaks. He sounds like he’s in a serious conversation. You clutch your folder like a shield and retreat to the far corner of the lift, desperately digging in your pocket for your face mask. Your hand shakes a little as you yank it on, all too aware of his presence in this small, enclosed space.

Only after the lift begins its ascent does Mydei end his call. He tucks it in his pocket, glances at the panel. The silence is deafening.

“Floor?” he asks, and you nearly jump. His voice is still that low, familiar timbre, but you’ve never heard it so detached or professionally polite before. It’s… strange.

You blurt the first number that pops into your head. “Thank you,” you mumble, hoping that you sound believably congested behind your mask. He presses the button for you without a comment, just a nod. And the moment the doors open, you’re gone — fleeing into the corridor before the thought of looking back can even form. 

It’s a cat-and-mouse game, one that only you are aware that both two of you are playing. A draining, constant vigilance, but for the job, the stability — you can endure it. 

Even if it means having to see him again.

The city at night has a different rhythm — a quieter pulse you’ve grown accustomed to during your covert comings and goings. Walking home takes fifteen minutes longer than the bus, but it’s a good time to get some steps in and also decompress, to shed the tension of a day spent hiding in plain sight.

You cross through the park near the city center, and turn into a narrow side street lined with small late-night shops. You’re passing by a dimly lit bar —- the kind that spills warm light onto the pavement with muffled jazz tunes coming from behind closed doors — when a familiar silhouette behind the window catches your eye.

Your steps falter.

Slumped over a wooden table and surrounded by a small army of empty shot glasses is Mydei. You barely recognise him like this — head buried in his arms and shoulders slumped over as if in defeat, golden hair spilling over his shoulders. His jacket is discarded next to him. He looks nothing like the poised and decisive CTO of the company you now belong to, nor like the man you’d spent the most beautiful summer of your life with in Carmitis.

You stand there for a long moment. The Mydei you’d known had barely touched alcohol. A single beer in the evening, sipped slowly as the sun set, had already toed at his limit. He’d always said that he liked to keep his head clear — though the underlying stiffness in his tone had always hinted at some negative experience with it in his past. So, for him to be here in a bar, in this state…

Before your mind can catch up, your hands are already pushing open the door, your feet carrying you inside. The air is thick with the smell of whiskey and old wood. You move cautiously, afraid to disturb the stillness surrounding him, and slide into the chair opposite.

He looks like he’s out cold, his breathing deep and even. Up close, he looks closer to his age than he usually does — the sharp lines of his regular expression softened by sleep, a hazy flush to his cheeks from the alcohol. Your eyes drift to his hand, resting loosely on the table. A breath catches in your throat when you see it.

The ring is nothing fancy — just a simple, cheap band, its finish worn and scratched. But you find yourself staring at the little silver accessory, a painful lump forming in your throat. Slowly, as if pulled in by a magnet, you find yourself reaching out. Your fingers hover for a moment, hesitant, before they graze over that cool, familiar metal — so gently it barely counts as a touch.

The moment your finger brushes the ring, though, Mydei’s body stiffens. You freeze like a deer in headlights, your own recklessness crashing down on you like cold water. What are you doing? This is a line you will never be able to uncross.

But it’s already too late. Mydei stirs, a slurred sound escaping him as he sits up, a little unsteady. His eyes are heavy lidded, swimming in a thick haze as they scan the table in front of him, before they finally settle on you. You swallow hard, bracing for the inevitable.

He doesn’t startle. Instead, Mydei just squints at you — your boring work clothes, your dull haircut, your unsmiling face — for a few, agonisingly long seconds. Then he lets out a weary groan and drags a hand down his face, fingers scraping roughly against the stubble along his jaw.

“Another dream,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. You watch as his gaze drifts to the scattered shot glasses littering the table, his brow furrowing as he struggles to count them. “Fuck… how many did I have this time…”

The casualness of his statement undoes you. “What are you doing here, De?” you ask softly, careful not to break the fragile spell. Mydei stares at you for a moment with that stilted, unfocused gaze, before looking down at the table again as if the glasses hold the answer.

“I was waiting for you,” he says. The words are slightly slurred but simple, matter-of-fact. Quiet dread pools in your chest.

“Waiting for me where?”

“At the Janus bridge,” he answers, looking almost offended — as though it should have been obvious. “We agreed to meet at eight o’clock on the first Saturday of the month, at the stepping stones next to the Janus Bridge.” He recites all of this, a mantra memorised by heart. Then he glances down at his watch, squinting, before looking back at you, expression bleary. An unsteady laugh escapes him. “It’s… it’s not Saturday today, though.”

You draw in a breath you don’t quite feel. “Mydei… that was over a year ago.”

Mydei nods slowly. “I know.” He blinks, looking utterly lost. “The first time you didn’t show up, I thought maybe you’d just forgotten the date, so I came the next week. Then I thought maybe you’d forgotten the time, so I came in the morning. And then I came the week after that, and the week after that…”

He trails off, his brow furrowing as if he’s reaching for a thought that keeps slipping through his fingers. “But you didn’t show up.” His voice turns soft, almost fractured. “Not for the last twenty three times.”

The number hangs in the air between the two of you. Twenty three Saturdays. Twenty three times he had gone to that riverbank, waiting for a meeting that would never come. For a person who didn’t exist.

His words send a sharp ache through your chest. You hear your own voice even before you know that you’re speaking. “Mydeimos,” you say softly, almost pleading. “Can’t you just forget about me?”

He looks up at you then — eyes unblinking, unfocused, stripped bare by the alcohol — and it’s like staring straight into the festering wound you’ve left in him. “How?” he asks, and the word comes out raw, almost like a plea. “How do I do that?” He tilts his left hand, the cheap band there glinting dully under the bar’s dim light. “Look. We got married. I’m yours.”

“We did that as a joke—”

“No.” The denial comes instantly and Mydei lurches forward to glare at you, the look in golden eyes almost fierce. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “No, it wasn’t a joke to me.” His voice drops to a whisper as he presses his hand to his chest, fingers clenched into a fist. “I’ve never taken this off. Not even once.”

“Why?” Why keep wearing that cheap token? Why continue clinging to the ghost of a promise that should have long since faded? Why do something so ridiculous?

He looks at you as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you said not to,” Mydei answers. “Because you said it was important.”

The memory, hazy and half-forgotten, crashes into you like a breaking wave. You had said it. Laughing, tangled in the sheets of his trailer bed, tracing the ring on his finger. “Don’t ever take this off, okay? It’s important. It means you’re mine,” you’d laughed, kissing him on the nose. You’d meant it as a flirtation, a possessive joke in the heat of a perfect moment. Okay, he’d answered. 

Mydei had taken it as a vow.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words feeling woefully inadequate. “I’m a terrible person.” 

You are, by every definition of the word. You’d dragged him along on your silly adventure of make-believe for two months, then discarded him the moment it ended. No explanation. No contact. You’d left your courage behind in Carmitis — along with the name Helena. And because of that, you’d convinced yourself that Mydei would get over you quickly. That he might worry at first, then grow angry when he realized the truth (you wince at the thought), but he would eventually let go and move on.

You couldn’t have predicted that he would be so stubborn about it. So unwilling to let the memory of you fade. If you had known he would be like this, perhaps you would have done things differently. Not ended it sooner — you were too selfish for that, even then — but perhaps in some other, kinder way.

Mydei stares at you for a long, heavy moment, his hazy eyes searching yours. Then he gives a single, slow nod.

“You are.”

The confirmation is blunt — stripped of malice, worn thin by exhaustion. He picks up the last shot glass and downs it in one motion, wincing as it burns its way down his throat. When he looks back at you, his smile is a wry, defeated thing — lopsided and sluggish, like a man trying to remember how to wear one.

“So, Helena,” he slurs slightly, “how have you been? Have you been doing well?”

You nod slowly, your throat tightening around the name. “Here and there.”

He presses his lips together. “Good,” he says after a beat — then shakes his head, the pleasant facade crumbling as fast as it was built. “Actually, I hate it. I hate that you’re doing okay.”

You manage a watery, broken laugh. “That’s not very nice.”

“I can’t sleep,” Mydei says bluntly. The words tumble out of him like a confession. “When I do, it’s not well. I look at the sky and think of how you used to point out their shapes. I try to surf, and I remember teaching you to catch the waves. I bury myself in work, and I can’t focus.” He meets your gaze, and the pain in his eyes is so raw it feels like it wounds you just to look at him. “I hate it. I hate you.”

Your mouth twists, searching for something — anything — to say. Instead, a tear escapes, tracing a hot path down your cheek. Mydei watches it, his expression a miserable cocktail of hurt and regret. The anger drains from him as quickly as it had surfaced, leaving only a profound helplessness in its wake.

After a few seconds, his face crumples. He reaches out, his hand unsteady, and with a clumsy thumb wipes the tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “I’m sorry for saying I hated you. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t cry.”

The gentleness of his touch, so at odds with his harsh words, undoes you completely. Even drunk, even heartbroken, his first instinct is still to comfort you.

A sob breaks free before you can swallow it back, then another, until you are crying in earnest, your shoulders shaking. His fingers wipe clumsily at your tears, but they only make them fall faster, rolling down your cheeks. Mydei looks utterly helpless as he stares at you, his own pain forgotten in the face of yours.

“Hey… no.” His voice is hoarse with a mixture of drink and emotion. Before you can process it, his hand is at your elbow, tugging gently, coaxing you up from your chair. You stumble around the table and he gathers you into his arms, pulling you tight against his chest.

You collapse into him, your face buried in the familiar scent of him as you cry into his shirt. His arms are a solid anchor in the storm, one hand patting slowly at your back while the other strokes your hair.

“Don’t cry,” he says again, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles on your back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Don’t cry.” The words are a knife, twisting between your ribs. None of it was his fault. None of it is his fault. But the truth sticks in your throat, lodged somewhere deep, impossible to dislodge.

So, you don’t speak. Instead, you just cling to him — the man you’d hurt, the man who still embraces you like you’re something precious — letting him hold you together, despite being the one who’d broken his heart.

A hand on his shoulder shakes him awake.

Mydei looks up blearily from the polished wood of the table. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, and there’s an incessant throbbing in his skull. Phainon is standing over him, arms crossed and face set in a mask of concerned frustration.

Mydei just groans, tries to lower his head back down. “How did you—”

“Someone called me from your phone,” Phainon mutters, dragging him upright and slinging one of Mydei’s arms over his shoulder. Mydei’s vision swims a little. “Said you were ‘out of it’ and needed a ride home. Didn’t give a name.” His friend shakes his head in disbelief as the two of them exit the bar. “What were you thinking, drinking alone like this? Look at the state of you.”

Mydei lets himself be steered to the car parked at the curb, his mind a foggy mess. A vague memory tugs at him — a familiar voice, strained and wet with tears, fingers curling in his shirt. But try as hard as he can, it remains just out of reach, like a phantom that he can’t quite touch.

Phainon bundles him into the passenger seat unceremoniously, the lecture continuing unabated even as he rounds the car to get into the driver’s seat. “... and you’re lucky it was a decent person who helped you and not some thief or scammer,” he mutters as he starts the engine. “What would you have done then, huh?”

Mydei presses his cheek against the cold car window, watching as the streetlights streak past, each one a blurry smear of orange against the dark. Phainon’s voice continues, a steady, grumbling drone from the driver’s seat. “…a whole year, Mydei. It’s not healthy. You have to let this go.”

“You’re one to talk,” Mydei mumbles, the words slurring out before he can stop them. “Haven’t you and your partner broken up, like… eleven times already?”

Phainon’s hands still on the wheel. The car falls into a sudden, suffocating quiet, broken only by the hum of the engine.

The haze in his mind clears, just enough for guilt to seep in. Mydei opens his mouth to apologise, but Phainon beats him to it. “Twelve, actually.” He lets out a soft laugh that’s tinged with wry defeat. “She broke up with me again last week.”

Phainon doesn’t say more after that, but he doesn’t have to. Mydei presses his lips together and turns to stare out of the window, affording his friend the privacy of his own silence. What a pair of fools they make, he thinks to himself with bitter humour. One clinging on to a summer long gone, and the other to a love that never seems to stay.

His eyes drop to the ring sitting on his finger. The two of you had been walking along the beach hand in hand, when you’d spotted a couple posing for pre-wedding photos, a photographer directing them against the setting sun. You’d squeezed his hand tight and laughed. “A wedding would be fun,” you’d said, your tone light, joking. “Just us. No fuss.”

He’d kept his voice equally light, not wanting to scare you off with the sudden, fierce intensity of his own longing. “We could do it tomorrow.”

And so you had. You’d worn a simple, flowing sundress, the colour of the sea at dusk while Mydei had put on the only nice shirt and trousers he’d packed, feeling both ridiculous and more serious than he ever had in his life. The rings came from a souvenir shack — simple, silver-coloured bands that would probably turn your fingers green. It didn’t matter.

You’d stood before him, with the waves crashing behind you and the gulls crying overhead, and spoken your vows. Ones that you’d come up with the night before, written onto the back of a dinner receipt — to kiss him whenever you wanted to, to steal every single one of his shirts, and to love him until the sea no longer touched the shore. And in turn, Mydei had promised himself — every part of the man that he was — to you.

“I’m yours,” he’d said. And the second he’d slipped the ring onto your finger, he’d kissed you — not a chaste peck, but a deep, claiming kiss that had tasted of you’re the one and I love you more than words and forever. You’d melted against him, laughing, hands clinging to his shoulders as if you never wanted to let go. A group of passing tourists had whooped and cheered, but he had barely even heard them. In that moment, there was just you.

Only you.

“It wasn’t a fling.”

Phainon glances over, but Mydei doesn’t elaborate. He just stares ahead, closing his hand into a fist, and lets the familiar shape of the metal band etch itself into his skin.

[rhenuvee]

HELLO MAE IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE 6 MONTHS TO GET TO BUT IM FINALLY HERE!!!

Edit: half my tags got cut so I'm putting them here, sorry if it seems unorganized

The concept of mydei being so sentimental just melts my heart (it also breaks it hELP </3)

Off topic but im so intrigued by mydei and phainons friendship during uni like i just know they were *the* duo

“the face of a fuckboy without an ounce of the ego that should come with it”

You know what thats a perfect way to describe modern au phai- thank you for that

AST RICKLEY

ever yonna nive gou nup

i love the AE group helping us with our interview :(

okay PAUSE-

i COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND mcs reaction to seeing mydei after all this time

“That man had been a surfer with a penchant for chasing sunrise waves all golden eyes and sun kissed skin”

<- THIS IMAGE OF MYDEI > anything else

god mydei with a tan?? water clinging to his skin??

i know his chest enters the beach before he does!!!

carmitisdei is just a very delicious vision i fear...

VERSUS

“immaculate in a tailored suit that probably costs more than your monthly rent sharp lines sculpting his powerful frame”

and now oh shit hes just as hot in a suit too? how did we not get whiplash (i mean we did but MORE WHIPLASH)

Seeing mydei yearn so hard just breaks me :( being sentimental has its consequences too

Mydei (on the outside) does not seem like the sentimental type so seeing him still think of us warms my heart

Also I love how we can tell how close mydei and phainon are

The fact that a) phainon acknowledging his feelings about helena but also b) knowing when to stop mydei from spiralling too hard

I live by the rule that a good friend would call out your bs/when things are wrong

HE TOLD GORGO ABOUT US :0

Grown ass men being smitten in this day and age is rare and i want it (mydei)

HE BLUSHED TOO- my favourite genre of men thank you

Mydei reminiscing so much makes me :(

Drunk mydei is also endearing :(

Mydei thinking this is a dream when he sees us...

"I'm a terrible person" -> YES WE ARE -> me knowing i am also a runner from my problems

oughh my heart just ached when mydei said he hated us :(

he waited for us every week on the bridge??!? I'm gonna cry...

AND THE SCENE ENDS WITH HIM APOLOGIZING AND STILL HOLDING US DESPITE EVERYTHING

"What a pair of fools they make, he thinks to himself with bitter humour. One clinging on to a summer long gone, and the other to a love that never seems to stay."

Not Phainon breaking up 12 times D:

Mae i love this so much and the yearning and the angst makes me so sad

Mydei is so in love with us it's not even funny... WHAT IS WRONG WITH US???

I have more to say actually but I will save it until I read the rest because I am crossing my fingers for a happy ending...

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING THIS MAE!!! THIS WAS SO WONDERFUL TO READ AND YOUR WRITING IS LOVELY AS ALWAYS!!!

[rhenuvee]

"Whatever You Say, Handsome" [TOT x reader]

A/N: Saying "whatever you say, handsome" to everything he says to see his reaction

Includes: Luke Pearce, Artem Wing, Vyn Richter, Marius Von Hagen

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

Artem Wing: He is blushing madly after you say it.

"There was a problem reported at work. I have to go now, but I promise I'll be back in time for our date." He gives you a peck on your lips and is about to leave, when-

"Whatever you say, handsome." He does a double take, and your man- who supposedly is strong, comes crumbling over your words. He has to clear his throat, wipe his sweat, just to compose himself again. Was this real? Artem carefully turns to you, seeing you have a lovestruck gaze. With how exaggerated your expression looks, he's sure it's a prank or something. However, even after all this he ends up tripping over himself.

"T-That's okay with you, right?" He asks, almost failing to look you in the eye. You approach him, and hook your arms around his.

"Mhm, of course, handsome." You repeat. He sighs with a defeated smile, but he doesn't mind. He watched as you giggle, both of you knowing of your antics working.

"You are trouble, my love." He says, nuzzling his nose into yours. You share one last kiss before he leaves.

Marius Von Hagen: He's teasing you right back.

"Whatever you say, handsome." Something seems to click inside his head the second he hears your special words. You watch as Marius turns towards you with a smirk, cocking his head playfully with a bit of dramatic flair.

"Oh, me~?" He asks with a comically sweet tone, pointing at himself. You start to sport your own smirk when you see him drop what he was doing to walk towards you. "Whatever I say?"

He repeats your words, locking his gaze with yours as you nod cheekily.

"Well, if my gorgeous partner says so. I guess I can't help but indulge in their desires." With those words, he's instantly cupping your cheeks and kissing you fervently. Your conversation was not even about affection, and yet he finds a way to love you even further.

You wanted to tease him for once, but he always seems to find a way to get you back- how the tables turn. It backfired for you, but at least you got your enjoyment for a little while. What he won't let you know is how hard he had to try not to blush at you calling him handsome.

Luke Pearce: He is confused, but thinks it's normal so he goes along with it.

"I think you should get it. It looks nice." Luke says this casually as you both talk about random things while doing your own thing. Right now you were discussing about the cute accessory you saw the other day.

"Whatever you say, handsome~" You wait for his reaction. He blinks, staring at you for a few seconds, having you in anticipation. You see a faint stammer, with a slight flush of pink on his cheeks. But is quickly replaced by his signature smile.

"Okay, darling. I'm know it'll look amazing on you." He gives you a kiss on the cheek then goes back to what he was doing. You are baffled- baffled that he didn't even sputter at your sudden pet name. It doesn't seem to phase him that much. Hm..? They're calling me handsome, how nice, is probably what he's thinking. But you want to try again, so-

"If you say so, handsome." You coo, leaning more towards him.

"I do say so, my angel." He says sweetly, letting you nuzzle in closer to him. It's at this point where it's your turn to cave, becoming a blushing mess after the flurry of compliments and pet names.

Luke laughs at your playful scolding of him, both at his lack of reaction and countering your pet name by making you flustered instead. He explains, saying he thought calling each other sweet names were a normal thing, since you've been together for a while now.

You huff, but can't find it in yourself to be mad at him- especially not after he called you pet names that are sure to leave you melting. If there's one thing you're sure of is how secure you both are in your relationship.

Vyn Richter: He is not indulging your antics.

"Hm, I believe we're due for a trip to the grocery store. The fridge is becoming empty." Vyn remarks as he scans the refrigerator and sees missing essentials. "How about we go later tonight?"

"Mhm, whatever you say handsome."

"Looks like we'll need more seasoning too..." He says, while looking through the pantry next. He doesn't seem to be paying attention to your responses.

"The cookies you like, they're out too."

"Whatever you say, handsome."

"And we'll need vegetables for the soup-"

"Vyn Richter!"

"...Yes?" You hate how cute he looks even when he's examining the vegetable compartment while you're slightly frustrated at him. You march your way towards him, hoping to convey your message to your stoic partner.

"Vyn, how come you respond when I say your full name but not when I call you handsome?" You pout, which does not go unnoticed by him. "Can't you at least be a little flustered?"

Your beloved only smiles, rounding the corner of the kitchen island to walk to you. You realize he's coming closer than you anticipated, eyes going wide when his hands start to snake around your form.

"There are other ways to be flustered, my dear." He says in the softest whisper. Your cheeks go warm when he suddenly cups your jaw, looking fondly at you. He gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead, then promptly walks off, leaving you the flustered mess.

Sometimes, you hate that he's one step ahead.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

[rhenuvee]

Happy Anniversary Tears of Themis!!!

[rhenuvee]

Im going on vacation soon so i might just put out one more thing before the month ends…

What would you like to see?

POIDH ch5 (Phainon)

Throw Caution to the Wind (Varka)

The Kremnoan Language (Mydei)

Untitled nerdnon (Phainon)

Voting ended onJul 14

[rhenuvee]

The fact that the top vote is the one i haven’t even started on 😃

[genshin-impact-updates]

Happy Birthday, Kaveh!

After that major incident last time, we took the chance, while restoring the house, to go through all the books and decorative ornaments. Everything has been returned to its proper place now.

Today is only a thorough cleaning. With weather this nice, it's a good day for it.

Are you asking about Mehrak? It's taken a bit of an interest in tidying things up lately, and even comes to help from time to time. I always check everything over again at the end anyway, so don't worry. It won't cause any trouble.

People get passing interests like that from time to time too. They usually don't last long enough to justify signing up for a proper class, but learning a little on your own is just about right.

For instance, these are all hobby books I bought: "An Introduction to Coffee Machines," "An Illustrated Guide to Modern Feather Crafts"...

And this oil painting, this decorative ornament... When you look at them all together, it's hard not to feel something. Time really does have a form, and yet it remains formless.

[rhenuvee]

My tomatoes have finally come together ❤️

[rhenuvee]

Im going on vacation soon so i might just put out one more thing before the month ends…

What would you like to see?

POIDH ch5 (Phainon)

Throw Caution to the Wind (Varka)

The Kremnoan Language (Mydei)

Untitled nerdnon (Phainon)

Voting ended onJul 14

[rhenuvee]

Seventeen // Took My Bitterness and Made it Sweet [Brother's Best Friend! Phainon x f!reader]

Summary: One summer day when you were thirteen, your older brother Mydei brings a boy over to play. You don’t expect anything good out of boys, but somehow, the boy- Phainon, you learned his name was, seems to want to know you better and include you in everything. Every time you expect nothing and think he’s just here for Mydei, his guileless yearning to be closer to you continues for years. Your denial of feelings and Phainon’s easy and confident persistence seems to complicate whatever was within your heart even further. A/N + Warnings: Modern!AU, reader is introverted, reader is 1 year younger than Mydei and Phainon, LONG AF 21K WORDS IM SO SORRY, trig identities, Mydei slander (bc he's your brother), extremely self indulgent. I wrote half of these sections while I was in school, so apologies if there are inconsistencies in the writing Tagging the lovely @zozo-01 since she stuck with this ever since she tagged me in snippet sunday (Thank you Zo, I love you <3)

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Age: 13

At the young age of thirteen, you've already written off boys. They were smelly, mean, and dumb... you could go on. Which is why, when your brother Mydei brought home a friend for the first time, you were not expecting to like him.

It was a random summer afternoon when you were lounging in your room, listening to music while you draw. It wasn't long until you felt like you heard the front door open and close, along with an extra set of footsteps...? You thought you were hearing things- perhaps it was your mom who was walking. But just a second later, you heard an unfamiliar voice.

It's another boy, you think.

For a moment you forget the animosity you have against boys. The memory of your brother dejected and purposely isolating himself last year rings clearly in your mind. Your family had left your town of Castrum Kremnos and moved to the more populated city of Okhema to get a fresh start, especially because of the grief caused by your father. However, this also meant that Mydei would be leaving his friends.

Hephaestion, Leonnius, Perdikkas, Ptolemy, Peucesta.

Though you have not had many interactions with them, you knew they were good friends and meant a lot to your brother, even if he didn't want to admit it. A dull ache lingered within your household despite moving to the free and prosperous Okhema.

So you decide to give this mystery boy a pass.

Your tablet flashes, signaling low battery, and suddenly you realize the predicament you're about to be in. Shit. You left your charger with Mydei after his broke, so now you have to go in his room to ask for it.

Did you really have to go in? Your mind goes back and forth between saving your tablet and staying in your room and waiting it out. Looking back in your room, avoiding interacting with the mystery boy and your stinky brother seemed really tempting. You had hobbies! You could definitely find something else to pass the time. But a part of you can't help but be curious, and before you know it, your feet were dragging you to Mydei's room.

You walk as lightly as you could, trying not to alert them of your existence before you were ready to go in. The door was half open, and you hear the low murmur of their voices, along with the electronic sounds effects of what seemed to be punches or shooting. You gulp, overthinking of whether Mydei would even hear you over the video game noises. You knock anyway.

"Yeah?" Mydei's voice calls out. You breath a sigh of relief- at least he heard you. You grab your nonexistent courage and push the door to enter. Keeping your head down, your footsteps hover lightly on his floor as if you were sneaking in. And then your breath catches in your throat.

The mystery boy- A boy sits on the edge of Mydei's bed beside him with a controller loosely in his hand. He looks up at you the same time your brother does, and you get a full glimpse of his face. He was sitting, but he looked around the same height and age as Mydei. White messy hair framing his face, bright blue eyes, and an even brighter smile. Why was he smiling at you?

And was that the scent of wheat?

Your brain barely catches up to the overload of the mystery boy, but Mydei fortunately snaps you out of your trance.

"What do you want?" Mydei's voice is curt and straight to the point as always. You catch the mystery boy stifling a laugh, nudging your brother and whispering something like "how gentle", to which your brother nudges him back subtly. You don't know why but you feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"I-I need the charger." You mutter. Ew. You become aware of how awkward your voice comes out.

"It's on the desk." Mydei replies, quickly focusing back on the video game. You cringe. The desk? The one all the way across the room? Where you'd have to pass this weird smiley boy? Your anti-social self loathes this, and you wish you could cuss at Mydei for not getting the message but alas there is a guest. 

Men. They certainly stress women out. Even your own brother.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you swiftly cross your brother's bed to snatch the charger. Okay, you did it, just quickly in and quickly out, easy right-

"Hey."

The white haired mystery boy calls out to you, and you flinch like those cartoon robbers caught in the police lights.

"I'm Phainon." He says with a smile. "Do you wanna play with us?"

Your pupils dart quickly between the boys and Mydei's TV, where some sort of FPS game was paused. The thought crosses your mind so fast, you almost flinch in disgust at the thought of playing this violent video game with boys.

"I- what?" You grimace, though it comes out meek. Phainon only continues smiling, lifting his controller to gesture at the game.

"We're about to enter a lobby, you can join us if you like." Phainon only continues smiling, lifting his controller to gesture at the game. The invite makes your heart beat faster- though you're not sure if you should be flattered or weirded out that you're being included. Mydei seems to voice the latter.

"Why would we do that?" Mydei's words come out blunt as usual, though you don't fault him for it because you also couldn't find a reason to join them, especially when you didn't really enjoy your brother's video games. More importantly, you felt like it was gonna be awkward.

"Um, I'm okay. I don't really like shooter games." You reply, slowly backing off with the charger in hand. Weirdly, Phainon perks up more, still talking to you.

"Then we could play something else. Do you like Mario Kart? Or Party?" Phainon suggests. You and Mydei both give him a grimace like true siblings.

"We don't have to include my sister in everything." Mydei says. From the way he said it, you felt like Mydei briefly told Phainon about you, which doesn’t help with your face burning at the thought of being mentioned.

"I-It's fine, really. You guys play." You say, taking the last word to finally exit. You're at the threshold of Mydei's doorway when Phainon steals the last word, calling out one last thing.

"Maybe next time then."

You almost flinch again, your steps abruptly stopping, and shit. It signalled that you heard him, so now you had to answer. You slowly turn, putting on a smile.

"Yeah... sure." Your answer wasn't confident, and you realize you might have come off as fake- like you were putting on a customer-service smile with an empty promise.

And yet, Phainon- this smiling boy, continues to beam at you like he actually believed you.

You don't trust yourself to not embarrass yourself any further with that interaction, so you you quickly pull your brother's door closed and retreat back to the safety of your room. You sit on your bed, charger clearly forgotten and your posture rigid as a soldier as you reflect on what the hell just happened.

Your heart was beating too fast. Too fast, but... not for a boy, right? 

It's ridiculous, you think. Phainon was the guest here- a stranger. There was a supposed to be a sense that playing video games with them was some sort of uncharted territory when he was your brother's friend. But it’s like it has been reversed. 

You've met boys before, obviously in your elementary school. They were smelly, mean, and dumb... loud, reckless, and careless... Yet Phainon was strangely not like them. And you were sure as hell knew that none of them ever looked at you like that- like it was normal for you to be there, or that it made sense for you to join. You press your palms to your face, as if wiping it would get rid of your overcomplicated thoughts.

This is so stupid.

Somehow, you get the feeling that you weren't going to forget him.

A few hours later, you realize you actually aren't going to forget the boy. Especially when you find him setting up the dinner table.

Your mother called you and Mydei down that evening for dinner, and you pause for a moment in the hallway as you see the white haired boy still here. You caught a glimpse of him just washing his hands, meaning he was definitely staying to eat. He answers your mother with a cheerful "yes ma'am!" and you make a face- both at the thought of Phainon joining your family for dinner, and the fact that he just called your mother "ma'am".

Your mother calls you and Mydei to set the table as usual. You realize how giddy Phainon looked as you saw him from the corner of your eye, sleeves rolled up and posture upright like he was ready for your mother’s cooking. He suddenly realizes you too.

"Oh, hi again." Phainon's eyes blink at you as he turns away from drying his hands.

"Hi..." You quietly nod to him, and he smiles at you again. By this point, you felt that he could probably tell that you were weirded out by him a little- being a guest and all yet being so comfortable with people he just met. You don't even remember the last time you were comfortable in your own skin. And yet here you were, standing awkwardly at your own dinner table in your own house, while this random boy acts like he belonged here all this time.

For once you latch onto the task of setting the table gratefully, busying yourself with forks and knives in order to not to pay the obvious elephant in the room any mind. You definitely don't realize the way he kept glancing over, and you certainly don't realize how he pulled your chair out for you.

Once dinner was set, your family takes their seat and starts on a nice home-cooked meal. Your mother gets curious and starts asking Phainon questions, since she too realized this was the first friend Mydei brought home. You keep your head down mostly, as you weren't really a part of this conversation. Funny enough, Mydei stays quiet too. Birds of a feather you were.

"How long have you two been friends?" Your mother asks towards your brother and Phainon. Though of course, Phainon takes the lead and answers.

"Since the beginning of the school year. Mydei has been helping me with studying for history." Phainon beams, his head nudging towards Mydei to acknowledge him. "He's really good in that class."

Mydei grumbles something unintelligible in response. It's weird... weird how Phainon's praise for your brother warms your heart. You knew that your brother was good at history, that much was true. But nobody was perfect (and as his sister, you knew firsthand of Mydei's particularly annoying traits such as his attitude). Phainon goes on about how he met Mydei from how he admired Mydei's competitiveness in gym class, but Mydei of course mistaken it for rivalry. You internally cringe at the thought of more boys being over competitive in sports.

Still, the sound of Phainon talking about your brother like he was perfect was... different somehow, genuine- even though that wasn't part of the question your mother was asking. You poke mindlessly at your food, a small smile slipping out as you recognize the hidden weight behind Phainon's polite answers.

Your mom continues to pester Phainon and Mydei with questions, with Phainon answering and your brother contributing the bare minimum. At one point you swear you see your mother rolling her eyes fondly at Mydei's lack of answer. You knew she likely shared the same sentiment as you- thinking how your brother was secretly happy for making a new friend.

"What grade are you going to?" Phainon's voice interrupts your thoughts, and you blink up, realizing that he was suddenly talking to you.

"Oh- eighth..."

"Eighth? Cool. Are you looking forward to high school?"

"I don't know..."

"That's okay. I think high school is gonna be fun! What's your favourite subject?"

"Um, art."

"That's awesome." Phainon says it like he actually means it, which makes your grip on your fork tighten. "Do you draw a lot?"

"Yeah I guess..."

"What kind of stuff do you draw?" Holy moly. You start cringing more, feeling some sort of embarrassment as Phainon presses on with the questions. He really wasn't letting this conversation go.

"Um... just things..." You shrug. You’re not really sure you want to say out loud that you draw silly anime characters at the dinner table. There's a pause, where Phainon just nods at you. It's like deja vu, where you expected the talk to end here. And yet-

"I'd like to see them sometime." He says, smiling. Your heart seems to catch on to the deja vu, doing that strange little jump again like before.

You don't understand it.

You don't understand why he wants to know more about you, or why he's being so polite, or why he keeps trying to include you, or why he's smiling so much. Why it ironically feels physically hard for you to look him in the eye. Going to a friend's house for the first time is typically awkward, is it not? But nothing seemed difficult for Phainon. In fact, everything seemed relatively easy for him.

Dinner continues with your brother and Phainon bantering and bickering like boys do while your mother smiles fondly. Once you finish, you walk quickly back to your room, wanting to be back in the safety within your walls, where you will not be bothered by some stinky-

“Hey!” Phainon calls out to you, and you flinch, stopping in your tracks. His footsteps pad across the floor, with Mydei silently beside him. “I still don’t know your name.”

“It’s (Y/N)…” You reply softly. You would think that your brother would have introduced you, but alas there he stands, anti-social and nonchalant like all boys try to be. Well, almost all boys.

“Well (Y/N), do you wanna play Mario Party with us?” There was the question again, but rephrased with your name with the addition of a more family friendly video game. He was purposely trying to include you, wasn’t he? You pause for a moment, thinking. Phainon grins, pressing on. “Your brother told me that you need help unlocking a minigame in the two versus two mode.”

“But there’s three of us…”

“Yeah. It can be me and you versus Mydei.” Phainon remarks casually. Before you could quirk an eyebrow at the strange pairing, Phainon continues. “Your brother already claimed he would still win.”

And it’s strange, you think. How the stars are perfectly aligning, so much so that it almost seems suspicious. Something prickles at your pride. Mydei has always been competitive with you, but to be honest, playing Mario Party with your brother has started getting boring. Here Phainon was, offering a fresh perspective by fueling Mydei’s competitive spirit and wanting you to join.

You blink blankly at your brother. “…You wouldn’t win partnered with an AI.”

“Yeah? Wanna bet?” Mydei growls immediately after. It earns a chuckle from Phainon, as he gets a first hand experience of you and Mydei being essentially the same person, and furthermore a glimpse of your own sarcasm against your brother. Phainon looks over at you, beaming.

“So, what do you say?”

You look at the boy, whose posture remains hopeful that you would join. Your stomach fluttered again- why? At this point you realize how bad it would be if you declined him again like you subtly dismissed him before. But he was... intelligent, you think. Intelligent in how he phrased his words.

"Partners?"

Phainon is already pushing Mydei's door open like he owned the place (while the real tenant grimaces). His other hand is outstretched to you, and somehow you see the change now. The invite was no longer a push, but a sign of him waiting. This was weird. He's too warm... too-

"Yeah." Before you knew it, a smile slowly spreads on your face, and you take his hand. He somehow lights up even more, giggling with you as he tugs you into Mydei's room, with the shared goal of beating your brother. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 15

Two years ago was when you’d say you officially became friends with Phainon: That day he was first invited to your house by Mydei.

You remember playing Mario Party with the boys, which turned into a whole marathon of video games. But you also ended up learning about Phainon. How he actually lives very far from school, in the countryside of Aedes Elysiae. Little things like how he wanted a video game console, but found it useless if he no one to play with- hence why he was so excited to get the invite from Mydei to play video games at your house.

As you finally come into your own in high school, you don't freeze up anymore whenever Phainon comes over. He’s starting to get taller and his voice has lowered, but you barely realize it because of how often you see him. However, there was still the notion that Phainon was more of Mydei’s friend than he was yours. They were classmates first after all, but now that you knew him better, you felt like being in his presence more. 

"Mydei, I need help with homework." You blurt out as you dump your bag on the couch as you come home. Mydei and Phainon were already there, sitting at the dining table, heads buried in their notebooks. Mydei clicks his tongue.

"What homework?" Your brother grumbles, already dreading your request and dramatically setting his pencil down. Phainon peers over at you behind him.

"Trig stuff." You reply casually. Mydei lets out a groan.

"No."

"What?!" You shout, immediately getting defensive. In times like these, you're reminded how obnoxious your brother is. Not that you ever forgot. "I have a quiz soon."

"I'm busy studying for my own test. Figure it out yourself." Mydei says. You catch the subtle sound of Phainon snickering behind your brother, and you get suspicious of whether he was laughing at you. Little do you know, the white haired boy caught a glimpse of Mydei's notes- messy and full of frustrated scribbles, because he too was struggling with trig stuff. Of course, he didn't want to admit it.

"Mydei, please. You're not saying no because you suck at trig too right?"

"No, I'm not." Mydei replies curtly. It was a lie of course. Again- birds of a feather you and Mydei were... both struggling with maths. You thought you could at least rely on your brother since he had at least a year of experience. But still, he waves you off. "Ask someone else."

You were about to open your mouth to argue, when-

"I can help." Phainon leans out for you to see him, offering his services easily. A beat of silence goes by until you and your brother both shout what?! without any shame.

What was it you said earlier? You don't freeze up anymore whenever Phainon comes over?

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle again, and you start feeling self conscious... like when you were thirteen meeting Phainon for the first time. Your notebook and past quiz that were prepared in your hands, slowly hide themselves behind you as if to back off. You knew your notes were messy- maybe even more than your brother's. But worst of all, your equations were half finished, red marks on your previous quiz with see me after class as the cherry on top.

You really don't want Phainon seeing this.

“I-It’s fine… I don’t want to bother you guys.” You try slowly backing away, hoping the boys would get the message that you changed your mind. Phainon only continues to smile, disregarding your stance.

"It's okay. I don't mind." He shrugs, already walking to the other side of the dining table so you could sit next to him. Shit.

Your brother rolls his eyes, seeing this as a sign for him to leave and study in peace. Wait, Mydei- He wasn't supposed to leave you alone with Phainon! He's so stupid!

"Whatever, I’m going somewhere else to work. Just don't fail her." Mydei glares one last time before dragging his stuff into his room and slamming his door like a princess, leaving you alone with Phainon.

"I won't." Phainon says simply, his arm resting on the back of the chair. He looks up at you, who was still standing there, and you flinch.

"Do you wanna come over here?" He asks. Your cheeks go warm at his... gentleness. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there was a tiny part of his voice that sounded like he was teasing you. Still, you walk over, stiff as cardboard as you awkwardly sit in the chair next to him with your disappointing notes in hand. Immediately, you become aware of how close Phainon was, so you unconsciously shift your chair a little further from him, purposely distancing yourself. An awkward silence occurs for a good minute, until Phainon notices something and laughs quietly, looking at you.

“...What?” You stammer, your pupils flickering back and forth between him and the floor.

“Hm?” Phainon tilts his head as if he was an innocent puppy, though you knew he was far from innocent. Did he have to keep staring at you like that?

“What are you looking at?” You ask almost curtly, attempting to shoo him away.

“What am I looking at?” Phainon repeats your question with a knowing grin. 

God, why did Phainon have to be so stupid? He truly didn’t know the effect he had on you- making you forget how to speak despite him coming over to your home for years and teetering off embarrassing yourself whenever he spares you a little glance.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? It wasn’t just a small glance to you. 

Things like going the extra mile to help you with something you struggled with, being persistent in including you… Realistically, it didn’t mean anything special but oh, at the same time it definitely did. Why else did you wish you had looked in the mirror for before this, wondering if you should fix your hair a little before seeing Phainon? Why else would you think about changing into something that makes you look less like a bum? It was a little crazy now that you think about it. Mydei would definitely say something about it for sure. Something like “Why the fuck did you change your clothes when we’re in our own house?” to which was a valid argument- one that you didn’t want to have. So you usually end up doing nothing, but overthinking it anyway.

Phainon speaks again, seeing as you’ve seem to have gone silent for some reason. Thankfully, it stops your intrusive thoughts, but in turn makes your cheeks heat up a little.

“I’m looking at you because you’re sitting so far from me.” Phainon’s mouth curves upwards, his tongue teasingly between his teeth. He gives a playful pout. “Are you scared of me?”

You watch as Phainon grin turns into a playful pout. You realize what he meant with you sitting all the way at the end, accusing you of avoiding him or something.

Still, you deny it. “N-No…”

“Well then-“ Phainon lets out a soft grunt, and you get a little startled when you notice his foot hooking through the leg of your chair to bring you closer. That home-y scent of wheat wafts through your nose as soon as he got you where he wants. 

"Okay, show me what you've got." He says. You cringe, still cosplaying as cardboard as you slowly slide your embarrassing notes and past quiz over. He looks it over silently, and you hold your breath.

"Hey," Phainon looks at you with a certain softness, something you definitely weren't expecting after your atrocious quiz score. "This isn't bad."

"I-It's not...?" You think he's making fun of you. Phainon shakes his head with a smile.

"No. To be honest, I struggled with trig identities too. I think you're overthinking it, let me show you how I did it..."

Phainon teaches you how to approach the math questions you struggled on, and you start questioning whether he was lying about struggling on this too. From how he was explaining it to you, it's like he never struggled at all.

Then again, the only tutor you've known is your brother, so your standards are pretty low.

It's somewhat hard to concentrate as Phainon points out certain things and watches you do questions. He's close- really close. Your shoulders would be brushing if you hadn't purposely leaned away. It was so much so that you notice the little crease in his brows and the way he bites his lip when he's concentrating.

"See? You're getting it."

What was this...? Your heart starts doing those stupid little flips again, but you’re not sure if it’s just your brain mistaking it as nostalgia. Because it was the same way he was kind and patient with you two years ago. The same way he stayed for you at your dinner table despite you being difficult. The same way the smell of his hometown consumed you. The same way he continued to smile at you like it costs him nothing.

"What?" Phainon asks, softly glancing at you. You snap out of your trance and realize you were staring at him- daydreaming. How embarrassing.

"N-Nothing." You reply too quickly, ducking your head. Still, your eye flits back to him to peek, and he was smiling anyway. A warm feeling courses through your body, and you suddenly feel extremely comfortable. An idea comes up. "Can you help me with my English essay after?"

Phainon laughs, indulging you. "You need help with that? I thought your brother would be better with words."

You make a face at him, thinking, since when Mydei was good with poetry?

"You know- words like fuck and dumbass." Phainon clarifies. You laugh, realizing he was being sarcastic.

"That's exactly why I need help." You explain, and Phainon chuckles with a nod. 

While you were being tutored, you shyly asked him why the heck he was even doing this- why he was willingly tutoring you when he had his own things to do, and didn’t have to in the first place. He only smiled a little, saying, “I like helping you.” You sputtered, exasperated as you questioned him, not being able to wrap your head around why that was a valid reason. But the implication was forgotten because he just made things easy for you. It doesn’t pass Phainon’s mind, but to be honest, he didn’t mind.

At some point, your eyes start drooping and getting heavier. Your textbook and notebook pages get blurrier. You feel your neck giving up on you, making your head lurch forward a few times. 

“You falling asleep?” A soft voice whispers in your ear. 

“No…” Even the dullness of your tone betrays you. 

Phainon chuckles, and you get a little embarrassed. No, you cannot fall asleep at this point. Not when Phainon was right beside you. What if you drooled? Or snored? Mydei was always complaining about your snoring, and even though you were in denial, you get self conscious at what could happen. You force your eyelids open, but they only get heavy once more. 

Before you knew it, your head fell to rest on a squishy pillow. The pillow briefly shakes beneath your cheek just before you passed out. How embarrassing- you eventually did use him as a pillow. You need to get up, but you don’t. It was mostly because you were tired, but perhaps a teensy tiny part of it was because you never wanted to leave.

You were drifting deeply into dreamland for who knows how long, and by how soundly you were sleeping, it seemed like you never wanted to wake up. That is, until something soft taps at your shoulder. Your eyes don’t really open until the tap happens a second time. 

“There you are.” A soft chuckle reaches your ears, and you finally realize the predicament you were in. 

The first thing you saw was Phainon, and you realized that he was sitting much closer than expected, and close enough that you could make out the little crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he smiled down at you.

“Hi.” He says again, softly greeting you, seeing as you haven’t fully woken up. Your brain seemed to be blissfully empty in this moment, simply savouring the view without informing your body to move. It doesn’t last long though, since Phainon slowly tries to extract himself from you without jostling you too much. “Was my lesson really that boring?”

You don’t even have the energy to respond, your eyes barely opening, though you hear Phainon’s voice fading in and out.

“I have to go now. (Y/n)-” Phainon chuckles sheepishly as he attempts to pull his sleeve caught from under your weight. “(Y/n), you need to wake up for me. Your brother’s gonna get mad at me again.”

“Mmph- y-you’re leaving now?” You suddenly scramble to fix your hair, sitting up properly to look at Phainon who was already reaching for his jacket. He turns back to you with a smile.

“It’s late.” He simply says. And he was right. As you looked outside, you could see the sky already pitch black. Just how long were you out for? What time did you fall asleep? Did you really lay on Phainon’s shoulder for that long? The thought makes you blush. You glance down at your forgotten trig homework, and see a bunch of sticky notes written with arrows and small notes for each question.

“Oh.”

Phainon seems to notice the mortification slowly creeping on your face at your brilliant response. He laughs under his breath. 

“I’ve written down some notes for the last few questions you had. I hope they’re helpful in some way.” Phainon seems to be in deep contemplation, like he was thinking back to his notes and hoped they sufficed. He decides not to overthink it or potentially stress you out even more. So he smiles and waves, heading towards your door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight…” You managed to squeak as he left. 

As your front door clicks shut, you collapse forwards on the table, simply staring at your scattered homework in silence. The living room felt strangely warm despite Phainon having already left. The scent of wheat lingered, the subtle air of his breath when he leaned in to explain something better, the feeling of his shoulder beneath your cheek- his entire presence lingered.

Mydei casually walks down the stairs, his eyes flickering between the door and you. He leans forward on the table, looking down at you with the same arms-crossed, unreadable expression on his face. Though it was the same perpetual look of mild judgment he always gave, this time you felt like he could be suspecting something else.

“What…?” You say with a hint of attitude in your tone, side-eyeing your brother who clearly had something on his mind. You hated when Mydei did this. 

“Nothing.” Mydei shrugs, reaching forward for the now stale popcorn. The silence continued to stretch, making you uneasy. “...Were you sleeping on his shoulder?”

“I- No…“ Smooth.

Mydei’s eyes narrow at you, getting skeptical from your very convincing answer. Fortunately, he scoffs and doesn’t address the secret you thought he was going to, but unfortunately, he decides he’s not going without a jab at you. “God, sleep on your bed next time.” 

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, realizing that Mydei did indeed catch you sleeping on his best friend’s shoulder.

“S-Shut up Mydei!” You knowing he was teasing you for drooling on Phainon’s shoulder. 

Mydei doesn’t even breaking eye contact with you. His gaze remains fixed, blinking blankly like he’s expecting something yet also wanting to ask something. You’re caught between deciding to stay silent or throwing something at him because you knew he was teetering off pointing out a certain something between you and Phainon. Why couldn’t you talk to your brother about other things? Trying to have a normal conversation with Mydei was like trying to argue with a brick wall that occasionally made blunt remarks and observations about your life. 

“You seem... happy.”

You stared at Mydei, your heart skipping beats- though you weren’t sure if it was because you were anxious or the fluttery feeling of actually admitting what Mydei was likely referencing. The thing about having a sibling was that you would be fluent in their lies, but the biggest problem was that they would be fluent in yours too.

Because later that night, after denying everything to Mydei which you were sure sounded suspicious- you realized the thought had finally taken shape.

Fuck. You looked forward to seeing Phainon. And it’s not like you haven’t, but after months of avoiding the question altogether, you slowly started to come to the terrible conclusion that your heart was craving his presence. There was no way you were going to get rid of the thought since you acknowledged it.  

You knew Phainon didn’t come here to tutor you, and he too had work of his own and things to study for. Phainon had stayed. And even though you made him explain the concept four times, and continued cringing over trying not to break over trigonometry, your previous feelings of thinking you were a bother eventually seemed to disappear. He was patient with you, and never sounded annoyed, which in turn ruined your life in the way that you never stopped thinking about this moment. 

You felt like you could depend on him comfortably without judgement or impatience. And he would let you take up as much of his time as you asked him for. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 17

Ever since that night when Phainon helped you with your homework, you felt like you could be more carefree around him. Before, Phainon was just Mydei’s friend. Just a boy, who was annoyingly good at everything and nice in a casual way that easily made people gravitate towards him.

At seventeen years old, you think you know better. You were an adult, applying to universities, and thinking about careers.

You think you've matured. Which is why crushing on Phainon feels childish now.

You've admitted it internally in your head, that you've had a crush on him. A baby one at least. Over the years, you've watched him grow and you considered him a friend like your brother did. But somewhere throughout the multiple times he came over to your house, you found yourself finding every part of him attractive. It wasn’t your fault though, that he hasn't stopped with his whole golden boy persona. He was good at everything, liked by everyone, and fine, you'll admit he's cute. But he's eighteen now, already graduated and in university. So, you start seeing less of him.

And because you've matured, you pushed your silly little crush deep deep down early in the year.

Besides, there was a guy in your grade who you've been liking for a while now. You talked often with him, and he was funny and clever. You play the same video games, and share the love for art. He was super attractive too, and him teasing you lightly and seeking you out only made you fall harder. But you mistake the laughter and banter for warmth- for the kind of connection you yearned for. 

Near the end of the school year, you finally admitted it to the boy. Your feelings, out on a plate that trembles from your shaking hands and pounding heart and... he laughs.

"Wait, you thought I was serious?"

The words hit you and you instantly become hollow. You don't even remember the rest of what he said. Something about how he never saw you in that way. But all you could focus on was the little scoff, the awkwardness, the laugh. The humiliation replayed in your head all day, and you realized too late that the teasing was never friendly, and that your feelings were more disposable than you thought.

By the end of the school day, you feel nauseous. Ironically, not from the pit in your stomach but from how you didn't know how to keep your face from not looking nauseous.

And to make things worse, you had to keep a not-nauseous face in front of your brother... and Phainon, who were both picking you up after school.

You think you were doing a good job- purposely walking three steps behind them and looking down, lest they see you secretly wiping your tears. But as the three of you walk to the bus station, Mydei's eyes widen as he catches the sight of your reddening nose.

"You okay?" Mydei asks suddenly. You blink up, and fuck- even your eyes couldn't hide how puffy they felt.

"I'm fine." You reply. But your voice is croaky, and your sleeve suspiciously in front of your nose.

"You're crying." Mydei observes.

"I said I'm fine." You turn away defensively. Mydei's jaw gets tight, and he steps closer to you.

Panic and anger starts flaring up between you and Mydei, the two of your snapping and cutting off each other. 

"What happened."

"Nothing."

"Who did it then?"

"Nobody."

"I know it wasn't fucking nobody."

"Just drop it Mydei!"

Phainon steps in gently with his hands raised between you and your brother. "Hey, let's just get to the station, okay?"

You almost forgot Phainon was there. You didn't want to know what he was thinking, and in the moment you didn’t care. Mydei glares at you, growling as he turns to keep walking to the station, reluctantly following Phainon's advice. You follow the boys silently, your heart hammering. It's embarrassing you think, how you've just argued with your brother out in the open like a child. You were eighteen for fucks sake.

The bus ride was painfully quiet between the three of you, and you didn't dare look up from your feet. After a while, Mydei speaks again.

"Was it that guy?" Your brother's voice low, but clearly aimed at you. You start getting nauseous again.

"No." You lie. It was small and desperate. You almost cry when you see your brother shaking his head from the corner of your eye. Was he disappointed in you? For lying? Because of the guy in your class? You weren't sure. Still, you knew you should never have told him. Mydei says nothing.

When you finally reach your home, you don't wait to rush straight to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You drop onto your bed, face flat into your sheets as you sob into them, hoping they muffle the sound. You feel so stupid.

Meanwhile, Mydei stomps into the house, shoulders rigid with anger as he violently sits on the couch, his fingers pinching his brows. For once, Phainon is nervous to enter further into your house. Even with uncertainty and a small ache in his chest, he approaches Mydei.

"Are you okay...?" He asks, slowly putting his bag down. A long silence passes, and Mydei doesn't even look up at him.

"Do whatever you want." Mydei says, not even answering Phainon's question. Okay- so obviously Mydei (and you) weren't okay. Phainon sits beside him anyway. He eventually convinces your brother to go wash his face to cool down.

An hour passes, and Phainon realizes he was alone. Actually, he realized it a lot longer ago, when he heard the sound of the bathroom door closing... and then Mydei's own door.

This should be awkward for him. Being promised a normal hangout but now being left alone in a house that isn't his, where both his friends were upset. Against his better judgment, he softly walks down the halls to your door. He hesitates a little before knocking lightly.

"Hey... are you okay…?" He asks.

On the other side of the door, you gulp, swallowing your sobs for the nth time. You stay silent, both from not knowing what to say and not wanting to face him.

"I-I don't need to come in." Phainon continues cautiously, and you keep quiet. "I just wanted to know if you were okay..."

You shouldn't be replying to him, not now. Even so-

"I'm not." Ew. Your voice comes out watery and snotty. Weirdly enough, something in Phainon's chest breathes a sigh of relief at hearing your voice.

"Can I sit with you?" He asks immediately after. "We don't have to talk."

You hesitate again. Every nerve in your body is telling you no- that you should keep the door locked and not let him or anyone see you like this. But Phainon's voice was gentle, just like you've always known, and- ...this is so dumb. 

"...Fine." You mumble, creaking your door slightly open.

Phainon immediately pushes the door wider. His heart sinks when he sees you with red swollen eyes and hunched shoulders. But you don't even notice- in fact the only thing you do notice is the ghost of a hopeful smile just before he crushes you with a hug.

"Hey," He murmurs, as if greeting you after not seeing you for a while. "I've got you."

You stiffen for a second. The hug wasn’t even that tight, his grip light and loose like he was afraid of breaking you. His hold remained respectful, and so you let yourself melt into him, chin resting on his shoulder even if it was for a few pathetic seconds.

He pulls away eventually and gestures for you to sit back on your bed while he sits on your chair. You’re hoping Phainon doesn’t notice the disgusting tissues piling up in your trash can.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” He asks softly. And it’s really none of his business. But at this point you’re desperate and you’ve already let him in your room. So, you tell him.

You tell him everything despite the moments making your face hot with humiliation. From how you thought your shared interests and teasing with the guy meant something, to how you stupidly convinced yourself it was mutual. Somewhere along the line you also slowly realize how delusional you must have been. The boy simply didn’t like you because he didn’t see you in that way- no fault in that. But was it so bad to think that something could have came from it?

You shakily recall how much you trembled during your confession, voice and body and all. It should have been a sign since then. So, the answer is yes.

“I feel so stupid.” You blurt out, rubbing your eyes again. “

“Don’t say that,” Phainon coos softly. “It takes guts to confess. I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

“You are…?” You sniffle.

“I thought he would have liked you too.” He explains matter of factly. “Anyone with the same dynamic would have.”

Suddenly, a bitter type of anger twists within your stomach.

I thought he would have liked you too. Anyone would have.

Phainon’s words were kind, but you felt that they were too kind for the utter stupidity you subjected yourself to. You think about how some of your classmates knew of your playful rivalry with the boy and started encouraging it. You think about the nights you spent up texting your friends, secretly giggling and squealing over every little interaction and replaying conversations you had with the boy. You think about how much time you wasted.

And then it hits you- how stupid you look right now. Crying, eyes swollen, puffy nose, and your voice all watery and wobbly… with Phainon watching all of it. Heat starts flooding your face again, and before you knew it the bitterness was tumbling out of your mouth.

“You don’t know anything.” You mutter quietly. But Phainon hears it.

“What-“

“You don’t.” You stand up suddenly, your change in demeanour now prevalent. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

No wait-

Your seething words get to Phainon, the corner of his eyes turning downwards, heart aching. You immediately feel the guilt and shame, but it’s too late. 

“I’m not.” Phainon replies quietly. Somehow, his tone was normal- unaffected even after the bitterness from you. For a second your heart wants to double down. But your words tell a different story.

“Yes, you are.” You refuse to make eye contact with him, but your message remains clear. “Just- Just get out. Please.”

There’s a pause where a small part of you hoped that Phainon would stay. But of course, your words have already left your mouth and told him otherwise. Phainon stands up, a deep sigh coming out of him. He nods once with a bittersweet smile as if accepting something he doesn’t want to.

“Okay… I’ll give you space.” Phainon says softly. He hesitates at your door for a bit. “I’ll be outside if you still want to talk…”

Phainon finally leaves, making sure to close your door for you. Almost immediately, you start crying again, though the embarrassment lingers longer than the tears. Curled within your blankets, your mind can’t help but replay the moment, finding a new detail to hate each time. You shouldn’t even be crying this much. Even as you found yourself liking this boy throughout the school year, you internally told yourself to prepare for the chance of heartbreak. You couldn’t expect everything to be a happy ending, right? Yet as you become aware of the sorry state of yourself now, it seems to be more painful.

Because maybe, a small foolish part of yourself thought that he might say yes. 

The more you thought about it, the more humiliating this whole thing felt. The butterflies, the daydreams, the hopeful little fantasies you built in your head- how arrogant were you to think someone would like you back? The answer should have been obvious from the beginning.

On the other side of the door, Phainon stands there for a moment with a heavy heart as he hears your muffled sobs and sniffles. He’s about to turn and walk back to the couch when suddenly- a familiar pair of footsteps approaching make Phainon snap up. Mydei.

The boys both look at each other with wide eyes, not knowing where to start. Phainon’s mouth opens though nothing comes out, while Mydei stands there with an unreadable expression and his arms crossed.

“I-I wasn’t- I mean- I was just…” Phainon trails off, not really making any sense.

“I know.” Mydei replies while letting out an exhale. Phainon’s half relieved but also half confused. He knew Mydei was quite protective of you, but he surprisingly wasn’t mad at him for talking to you after a meltdown. Mydei opens his eyes, but avoids looking towards your bedroom door. “Was it about that guy…?”

Phainon is torn between telling his best friend and respecting your privacy. It was hard when Mydei was already this perceptive- what else was there to hide?

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Phainon sighs with a meek smile. A neutral answer, yet it told Mydei everything he needs to know. Your brother doesn’t press on for information, only deeply exhaling again while walking towards the living room.

“I’m bad at this.” Mydei mutters, flopping on the couch. Phainon curiously trails after him. “You’re better than this than me.”

Phainon blinks, then rounds the couch to sit beside him. “That’s not true.”

“She talked to you, not me.” Mydei says flatly, rubbing his hands on his face. Phainon swears he saw the corners of Mydei’s eyes still recovering from redness(?) but he decides not to comment on it. He thinks back to your red eyes, and how he wished he could have comforted you more.

“I know you… never really liked that guy in the first place but,” Phainon says, giving a hopeful smile. “She needs you more than me. Even if she doesn’t say it.”

“And…? I’d just make things worse.” Mydei lowly protests. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, you probably would.” Phainon pokes at Mydei, and his head snaps towards him giving him a glare. Phainon chuckles, though he knew his friend would know that he was half joking. Phainon offers a weak smile. “But at least it meant you tried.”

A beat of silence hangs in the air, but it wasn’t heavy this time. 

“I’m sorry.” Mydei says, his voice low. Phainon’s ears perk up, unsure if Mydei really meant that.

“What did you say-”

“I said go home.” Mydei deflects, facing away from him. But even with the unsaid words, Phainon knew his friend had a lot of heart, and didn’t mean to cause this conflict and awkwardness. Mydei picks up Phainon’s bag and throws it at him. “I’ll talk to her later…”

And finally, Phainon breathes a sigh of relief, having a gut feeling that this would resolve itself soon enough.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 18, start of university

It’s been about almost a year since that argument you had with your brother about that stupid crush. 

Mydei did end up knocking on your door that night, and you had a talk. It wasn’t perfect by any means- there was still some frustration and shouting. Mydei kept telling you how he knew he should have trusted his gut on how that guy was bad. You kept telling him that it wasn’t his business, and that you could take care of yourself. You weren’t a little kid anymore.

Eventually, the anger fizzled out and Mydei remembers that the whole reason for this conversation wasn’t about being right. 

You both sit in silence for a while, until Mydei gives you an awkward side hug, murmuring about how that guy sucked. If it was anything you could agree on now, 

“You’re not serious about beating him up are you?” You ask incredulously.

“Yeah I am. Got a problem?” Mydei replies without an ounce of care. You roll your eyes.

“Um yes, there is a problem. An ethical one.” You say like it was obvious- because it was!

“Who gives a shit?” Mydei shrugs. You can’t help but laugh at Mydei’s straightforward yet completely honest answer, because truthfully you would probably think the same if it weren’t for repercussions. You knew you couldn’t change anything from what happened, though a part of the embarrassment still remains deep in your heart. You decide to do your best and move on- and more importantly, you didn’t want to argue with your brother, or stay mad at him for his way of thinking.

Later that night, you also made sure to text Phainon, and you get a reply back pretty quickly.

(Y/N): I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I really appreciate you coming to comfort me, even if I wasn’t accepting of it.  Phainon: There’s no need to apologize. I understand you were hurt.

For a moment you stare at the screen. Even with all these years knowing Phainon, his gentleness still astounded you.

Phainon: You’re tougher than you think. Always have been. 

You smile at the text. Stubborn would have been a better word, you think, especially with Mydei as part of the context. Still, this was the last time you saw Phainon before entering university, which made things slightly awkward. Things are resolved, but you still can’t shake off the fact that the last impression you had was bawling your eyes out in front of him, and then snapping at him right after. 

The summer passes quietly after that. You don’t see Phainon much since you were preparing to start your own journey in university. You were ready for things to change.

Well, most things. Mydei was still protective of you, and you suddenly see a (less nice) carbon copy of your mother following you into the post-secondary life. 

Make sure you lock your doors, I don’t care if you’re just going for a coffee down the street. And don’t walk home alone when you have night classes. Holy moly, it was barely even the first day and he was already giving you orders like it was boot camp. Still, you don’t fault him for it. You figured you’d catch yourself forgetting something like that eventually, since these seemingly “normal” procedures might not be the first thing you think of.

Speaking of your first day and Mydei- he insisted on picking you and your friend up after the orientation party. 

“Please don’t tell me that stupid mascot was there.” Mydei groans.

“It was.” You reply, giggling as you and your friend hop in the backseats.

“I thought they’d stop doing that, bringing him to all these campus events.” Mydei scoffs, then mumbles something about how the mascot was just dancing in a corner. Clearly the mascot was haunting his dreams.

“Hey, he’s doing his best.” A familiar voice laughs. 

Your nose catches onto the realization first, the familiar scent of wheat drifting past you as you shifted into Mydei’s car. You abruptly look up from tugging on the seatbelt and realize- oh. Phainon was here too in the passenger seat. Wait- he looks… different. He wasn’t completely unrecognizable but his voice got lower, and he seemed much more confident which was somehow possible.

Well this was unfair. What was that line you heard from that one video game again? “Doctor- you’re… huge!” And you think that because holy fuck he was huge. From what you could see, his arms got all bulked up with muscle, shoulders extending past the width of the passenger seat of your brother’s car. What the hell happened over one year? Phainon goes through puberty and he gets taller and hotter. You go through puberty and you get pimples and a menstrual cycle. Or in other words: fuck you I guess.

“Is that Phainon? The guy you mentioned?” Your friend whispers to you, which snaps you out of your trance.

“Wha- I mean yes-”

“He’s cute. Super cute.” She whispers with a knowing grin. You’re hoping her statement falls on deaf ears but to your dismay, Phainon turns around, and you finally see his handsome face and smug grin.

“Was I supposed to hear that?~” He asks, looking at you straight in the eye. It wasn’t even the first day yet and your brain was already getting fried. Over a boy of all things. 

“No.” You seethe, smacking your forehead at your friend’s whispering that could have been quieter. Phainon laughs.

“Don’t inflate his ego.” Mydei adjusts the rearview mirror, casually making a jab at Phainon. Though, it doesn’t really do anything when Phainon was still smiling. 

“So, did you ladies have fun?” Phainon asks smoothly, looking back again, addressing the both of you. Your friend doesn’t answer, and you somehow get the feeling that she wanted you to talk, making your face subconsciously heat up.

“Um, yeah I guess.” You say awkwardly. You don’t know why you get shy when you respond, slowly sinking further into the seats as you struggle to even look at him. Phainon’s the same he’s always been- warm smiles, teasing lilts to his tone just to get you to talk to him, the scent of wheat. Still, your friend nudges your arm, telling you that she too noticed your speechlessness in front of him. Something is different. He is different.

As the car ride goes on, it’s fairly silent. Even though Phainon was sitting in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but feel aware of your surroundings- like if he was gonna turn around or ask you something again. You tell yourself it was just to prepare yourself if he decides to look at you again. You hate that your eyes trace over him. 

“Are you gonna start going out like this every weekend?” Phainon’s poses this question to you and your friend, though his eyes linger on you mostly. 

“I dunno… Why?” You inquire, your shoulders slightly tensing when you watch Phainon’s lips curve into a teasing grin again.

“Just curious,” He shrugs. “Maybe you’d be better than Mydei who stayed in his dorm all the time when he was in first year.” 

Mydei grumbles, giving Phainon a light shove as his friend giggles. 

“There’s nothing to go out so often for.” Mydei proclaims with his arms crossed. His eyes then flicker to you in the rearview mirror, deciding to attack you for no reason like every older sibling does. “You couldn’t even go out without getting lost."

“I’m an adult Mydei.” You protest with an eyeroll as your brother embarrasses you (though he really is just a worrywart).

“Debatable.” Mydei scoffs.

“Mydei!” You yell. Phainon chuckles watching your short banter, then cuts in himself.

“She can handle herself.” Phainon gives Mydei a reassuring smile. There it was again- just a small little boost of confidence, that stupid faith he had in you that casually made you lose it. Not this again.

Still, even as the car pulls next to the curb and you’re ready to flop on your bed and gossip with your friend all night and more importantly brush off these feelings-

“Bye!” Phainon rolls his window down, waving at you. “Don’t stay up too late!”

Your feel that tingle at the back of your neck as you’re stunned at how Phainon said that phrase, though you barely have time to process it. 

“Oh my god…” Your friend latches onto your arm, startling you for a second. She hunches over as she walks to your shared dorm together, looking at you with a knowing smile. “Are you gonna address the elephant in the room, or should I just say it?” 

“What are you talking about?” You ask in a monotone voice as you unlock your door. You were hoping it wasn’t about-

“Uh hello? This Phainon guy, obviously.” Your friend says with an eye roll as if the topic was plain as day. “You didn’t tell me you guys were a thing.”

“We’re not,” you sputter. “He’s just a friend. My brother’s friend to be exact.”

“Yeah? Well this friend looks pretty happy to see you.” She hums, clearly not convinced. You both walk over to your her bedroom where you sit to talk. You roll your eyes, though you couldn’t stop how your body unconsciously tried turning away from her to hide your face. “He literally turned around to talk to you every five minutes. Did you even know he was gonna come to your orientation to flirt with you?”

You sputter at her bluntness, also not liking the way you got flustered so easily by her observations. But now that you think of it, why did Phainon even come along just to join Mydei to pick you up after your orientation?

“That wasn’t flirting.” You argue, cutting the conversation short and not willing to entertain any more questions. “Anyway- are you gonna tell me about the drama that happened at prom or what?”

You and your friend end up chatting into the late hours. More importantly, you end up skillfully avoiding and not responding to that statement she made. Truthfully, your own thoughts terrify you. 

Deep down, a part of you knows that if Phainon was gonna keep talking to you like that- like he was teasing you, being all confident, and smiling and implying he wanted your company, you’re not going to be able to pretend it means nothing. 

You remember yourself one year ago, when you confessed to that boy in your school and how embarrassed you felt when he laughed and scoffed. You remember how dumb you felt for misreading things, and believing that it was something more. You can’t let yourself do those things anymore. 

Unfortunately for you, confidence looked really good on Phainon. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 18 (a few months later)

You think you settled into your classes and university life pretty well. Looking back at your orientation day, it felt a little ridiculous how much you spent worrying about Phainon’s perception of you. You were convinced that after you pushed him away that night when you were seventeen, that you had ruined everything. Or at least, that’s what you expected. You knew Phainon wasn’t the type to hold grudges or lie, but with the way he looked and talked to you that day, it was if he was entirely unaffected. 

As the semester goes by, you realized you were in your head too much after all. You were lingering outside with your friends, already complaining about a group project that was assigned when suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“Hey, found you.” 

It’s Phainon.

“Oh, hey.” Your eyes widen when you realize it’s him. Your eyes trail up to finally meet his gaze, which looked a little too pleased with himself. Was he even aware of how he somehow just became unfairly attractive over one summer? Meanwhile, your friends’ jaws drop at the same time when they notice him spawn out of nowhere, and immediately interpret this as a signal to move two meters away.

“How are classes going?” He asks with a calm smile. You suddenly get a sense of scale of how much taller he got, now that you were with him standing up and not in a car. It was slightly embarrassing to you, how he was hunched over slightly to talk to you better.

“Okay I guess,” You say, shrugging. “Getting busy.”

Your friends watch, half in awe and half-deadpanned as you give Phainon a boring answer. And still, he smiles, remaining engaged as he talks to you.

“Good, good… Do you already have plans for the break?” Phainon asks, almost sheepishly. 

“I dunno, probably staying home with Mydei…” You reply. Phainon seems to inhale a little deeper before speaking again.

“I know finals are coming up soon… but I wanted to revive an old tradition, if you’re game?” Phainon asks. You cock your head to the side, unsure of what he meant. “The winter market, back near your home.”

Ah, right. You do remember the winter market- one you went with Mydei and Phainon when you guys were younger. You guys were barely teenagers, insisting you could go out by yourselves, and end up spending a majority of it listening to your brother whine about the cold. Still, it was a much simpler and nostalgic time you considered a core memory. 

“Do they still do it?” You ask, your eyes widening at Phainon bringing up something so nostalgic out of the blue. “I don’t know if I could convince Mydei to go… At his grown age I think he’d still complain about the snow.”

“He would do that.” Phainon chuckles breathily, knowing Mydei’s behaviour as well as you. “But I already convinced him to go.”

“You did?” You ask, your eyes widening. You truly underestimated Phainon’s power.

“Well, he did grumble about it for a good five minutes…” Phainon admits, scratching the back of his neck. “But he said he wanted to bring some of our friends, if we were going.”

Mydei has friends?

“Oh… your other friends…” A part of your confidence crumbles at the mention of your brother’s and Phainon’s other friends. You want to go- though you hadn’t really thought of why your heart was urging you to. At the same time, you’re not sure if you’d want to be in a group with randoms you didn’t know. For all you know, they could be just as stinky as your brother! Your response turns slightly dismissive. “I don’t know… I’ll check with Mydei if he’s going first.”

“He will. And if he says no I’ll make him go.” Phainon gives a devious grin and a thumbs up. Your uncomfortable posture turns more relaxed and you smile, seeing exactly what this was- the same game you’ve been playing for years. He was trying to invite you again.

“I’ll think about it.” You say finally. Phainon smiles wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he subtly won you over. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” He leans closer with a wink, and you think your brain stops functioning for a good second. He then straightens, giving you a casual wave before walking off. “See you then.”

You watch as his figure walks away, spotting one of his friend groups nearby and jogging to them. And-

“Oh. My. God.” Oh yeah, you almost forgot that your friends are still standing there.

They squealed and whispered animatedly, all nosy about your ties with this hot guy and theorizing on whether you’ve been dating or if the flirting was normal. The bombardment of questions and exclamations obviously pointing out Phainon’s… Phainon-ness made it hard to conceal your nerves. Wait- why were you nervous again?

“You guys-” You attempt to compose yourself, but your stammer already gives out your subconscious feelings. “You guys are delusional. Just because some attractive guy happens to be talking to me doesn’t mean anything romantic.”

“So you think he’s hot.” One of your friends chides, completely ignoring your argument and latching on a random detail. You pause for a moment, your mouth agape as you realize the small slip you made. You shake your head dramatically to dismiss any other thoughts, but your roommate beats you to answering that.

“That’s (Y/N)’s friend, Phainon.” Your roommate so graciously corrects with air quotes around the word friend. You have no idea why your cheeks start to burn up when your roommate sarcastically addresses Phainon as your friend. Or was it just an intrusive thought that you seemed like more than friends? Either way, you hope your flustered expression is not seen by your friend group. “And I’ve been saying the exact same things to her, but she’s denying the… well- whatever’s going on between them.”

“He’s literally my brother’s friend.” You roll your eyes as you correct her, emphasizing the involvement of Mydei in this whole ordeal. “As in he’s known me since I was like thirteen?”

“Uh-oh, that’s dangerous~” One friend sing-songs with a smug grin. “That means he’s already got a leg up in the game. And judging by what I just saw, men like him are hard to find. Y’know- kind, hot, knows all your habits?”

You want to roll your eyes again and ready to deny all these claims your friends are making, but you find yourself replaying that whole conversation with Phainon just now. Knows all your habits? It was certainly dangerous but not in the same way your friend stated. It was more like dangerous in the way that you didn't want Phainon remembering every embarrassing thing you did in front of him and being close enough that he would bring it up. You think back to how he kept trying to include you and ask you questions about yourself, and when you realize the exact same thing just happened-

“Sooo, what did he talk to you about?” Your friend interrupts your spiralling, and the rest of the group turns their heads to you expectantly. 

“He asked if I wanted to go to a winter market thingy we have back home.” You say casually. Your friends squeal- making you groan at their overreaction. 

“And? What did you say?”

“I said I’d think about it.” You shrug. Your friends dramatically sigh with disappointment, their hands sliding down their faces. 

“Okay- why did you say you’ll think about it? This is like… textbook winter arc in a shoujo manga where the leads go on a date and share hot chocolate.” Your roommate says incredulously. You roll your eyes, ignoring her obvious teasing as prepare to explain.

“It’s not a date.” You protest with an exhausted sigh. “Mydei and a few of their friends are going too.”

“Damn, that’s a lot of wheels.” She scoffs. The rest of your friends giggle. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You deadpan, the joke going over your head.

“Nothing.” She beams. “Anyway, what’s wrong with other people going?”

“It’s gonna be awkward as hell…” You groan, gritting your teeth as you drag out the words. Being as introverted as you are, situations like this felt iffy for you. You really don’t want to seem difficult, but if he was inviting other people you didn’t know, you felt like the odd one out. 

“So?” She scoffs, grabbing you by the shoulders lazily. “He’s going. He wants you there. He basically just asked you out. Isn’t that enough reason?”

You pause for a moment, your roommate’s argument surprisingly getting to you. 

“...That doesn’t mean anything.” You finally utter. Your friends groan in unison.

“Oh shut up, he’s cute! Just let yourself like him!” 

Your eyes widen at the bold command. Your friends burst out laughing, enjoying your embarrassed reactions from this so called gossip. It really sucks how now you couldn’t contain the tiny smile that creeps onto your face. 

Before you knew it, your thoughts spiralled and you couldn’t stop thinking about how Phainon smiled at you, or how easily he was able to spot you here on campus. Your gaze flickers briefly to Phainon’s direction again, where he was talking with his friend group. You end up staring for too long because Phainon seems to feel your eyes burning into him, and he turns his head to look at you. You awkwardly look away, not knowing whether to play it off or keep looking- either way it was gonna make you suspicious. But Phainon doesn’t seem to think so, because he sends you a small smile and a wave before going back to speaking with his friends. 

And now, with your friends observations combining with your own buried feelings, you’re realizing how hard it’s getting to believe that he was just a friend. You thought you’ve convinced yourself that you saw him as strictly a friend of your brother’s that you just happened to get to know. You thought you weren’t going to make another silly mistake about a boy. But… you’d be lying if you said you never thought he was… kinda…-

“Also- don’t you think (Y/N)’s brother is kinda cute?~”

Ew. Your friends continue giggling, not caring that they just called your brother hot in front of you. Yup, daydream-y thoughts gone. 

Nothing else needs to be said when a guttural scream tears from your throat.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 18 (Winter break)

A couple weeks after stressing over exams, you find yourself standing in the middle of the winter market. For some reason, you felt like being here in and of itself was another way of admitting the real reason you were going- another way for your friends to tease you about you-know-who.

Speaking of friends, you realized something about Mydei’s friends.

You stuck to Mydei that night as you waited for the rest of the group to arrive. The market was glowing with the same warm lights and cold air, festive music drifting through the crowd. When they arrived, you greeted them all politely, offering a small smile. But you notice something-

All of Mydei’s friends were gorgeous.

What the fuck? As if it couldn’t make you any more anxious than you already were, they had to be stunning too. Even in the cold winter weather they dressed like they came out of a shoot for Vogue. You look at your own attire and feel hyperaware of how your coat makes you look like a puffball, and you tuck your hands in your pockets.

You see a girl with whitish hair that bleeds into a light purple, a cheerful girl with pink hair tied in two pigtails, a group of four that- wait… were those the twins? Stelle and Caelus? Oh god- you didn’t know they were a part of this hang out. Okay, it was probably dramatic to have this intrusive thought of hiding right now- but you couldn’t help it. They were well known across campus, and you couldn’t fathom them having connections to your brother of all people.

“Hey,” You feel somebody tap your shoulder and you turn around quickly- it’s Phainon. “You came.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You nod, breathing out. Your heart does that stupid flip again as you see Phainon- cheeks rosy already from the coldness, and flashing a toothy grin like it meant a lot to him. 

“He’s just a friend. My brother’s friend to be exact.” “That’s (Y/N)’s friend, Phainon.” You remember yours and your friends’ phrases being thrown around when Phainon was being introduced. You tell yourself again the same thing- that he’s just a friend, and this didn’t mean anything. That Phainon was just being friendly like he always was, and that whatever fluttering feeling you’re getting in your chest was just some naive hope that needed to be buried away again. 

The group moves slowly through the market, a safe distance enough to explore the booths and keeping sight of each other. You mostly stay near the back, hands tucked in your coat pockets as you listen to the group more than talking.

Before you could take notice of it, one of the girls falls into step with you.

“Hi! I don’t think we’ve met.” It’s the pink haired girl. “I’m Hyacine. You’re Mydei’s little sister, (Y/N), right?”

“Oh- hi. Nice to meet you.” You reply, adjusting your scarf to try and not seem anti-social. She then taps Mydei on the shoulder, who was walking in front of you two.

“Mydei, you’re sister is way cuter than you!” Hyacine clasps her hands theatrically and beams.

“Um… thanks?” Mydei blinks, then turns back. Hyacine laughs, and even you manage a small giggle. You kind of appreciate her humour (and jab at Mydei) and hope you didn’t come off as a stranger anymore. 

Before you could overthink it, Hyacine tugs you over to one of the booths, asking if you liked cute things. You stumble a little as the girl drags you to who knows where, though you reply saying you do. You notice the little unicorn plushie on her bag, and felt that it was on brand for her.

“Over here!” Hyacine giggles, not caring that you both were obviously straying from the group. There was no time to protest as you both weaving through the crowds until you both stop at one of the artist booths. You look around at what Hyacine wanted you to see, and see various keychains, stickers, and cute little handmade plushies lining the table. They were soft, mismatched coloured little creatures, sitting as if waiting for someone to adopt them.

“These are so cute!” Hyacine’s eyes light up, flickering from plush to plush. She silently hoped you felt enjoyment from this too. “Oh- and this one too.”

“They are.” You blink, picking one of the plushies up. It was a small pastel coloured star with a crooked smile. You thoughtfully turn it in your hands as you admire it. You wouldn’t lie if you said it didn’t intrigue you…

“Oh (Y/N)- that one matches your jacket!” Hyacine exclaims, pointing at the similarity.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it does.” You glance down at your attire and the coincidence that the plush you grabbed was the same colour. You didn’t even realize, but it was as if it was a subconscious gesture.

You stare down at the little star’s cute face and dangly legs. It was cute, and you certainly appreciate the maker’s craftsmanship. But you sigh, putting it down. “Mydei would probably scold me if I bought another one.”

“Aw, really? But he’s gonna be lonely. He even matches you!” Hyacine pouts, then shows you her unicorn plush. “You could match like me!”

You’re about to give an apologetic smile, but you think about the giant horde of stuffed toys you have at home and in your dorm and you feel like-

“What are we looking at?” Phainon’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn your head a bit too fast to where he was peering between you guys. Phainon bends slightly to take a closer look, snow dusting the shoulders of his coat. You get a whiff of his cologne and you have to look away. He looks relaxed in that unfairly easy way of his, even for doing something as basic as looking at stuff.

“We’re looking at stuffies!” Hyacine says joyfully. You shrink into your scarf a little, hoping Phainon doesn’t find it childish that you’re looking at plushies. “(Y/n) likes the star.”

“Hyacine-”

“The one with the little legs?” Phainon says simply. His eyes then flicker down to the one in your hand. “Were you gonna buy that one?”

“Oh-” You’re almost startled at how quickly Phainon noticed the plush in your hand, and you set it back down on the table. “Yeah- I mean… it’s cute, but I already have a lot of plushies at home.”

Phainon seems to be deep in thought as he stares between you and the star plush, but doesn’t say a word. You’re hoping he accepts your excuse and moves on. 

“Where were you? And everyone else?” Hyacine pipes up, tilting her head at Phainon.

“I was looking at the ceramics. I lost everyone else a while ago, but- oh, Cyrene said to regroup at the seats near the hot chocolate stand.” Phainon explains. A shiver runs through your spine as you briefly remember what your roommate said about this hangout being straight out of a shoujo manga. “You ladies can head back there when you’re finished. I’m gonna try looking for the others.”

“Okay, see you in a bit!” Hyacine waves to Phainon, then turns back to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy anything?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You say with a bittersweet smile. “I’ll probably forget about it in a few days.”

Hyacine nods, not wanting to pressure you. You turn away from the booth and walk with her towards the designated meeting place within the food vendor area. It was getting later, but from the way you were bumping shoulders with people, it felt like the amount of people were increasing. You both eventually find a few of the others at one of the picnic benches and join them to wait for the rest to arrive. You sigh, as you finally get a chance to sit down. Simply walking around a marketplace somehow exhausted you more than you thought.

For a moment, you close your eyes to rest from the clamour. Suddenly, you hear a little jingle coming from near you and you open them at the soft sound. 

“Hey.” Phainon stands in front of you, one hand holding a small fabric gift bag tied with sparkly string and tiny metal ornaments. From the lighting of this area, you could finally see the snowflakes clinging to his hair- even though they were the same colour. He sits down beside you, looking almost amused at your startled expression. 

“Hey, did you find everyone?” Hyacine leans over from the other side of the picnic table. 

“Most of them. I think Cyrene found the others I didn’t.” Phainon replies. On cue, Mydei and a few others walk past and take their own seats at the table. Phainon’s attention shifts back to you, still holding out the bag.

“What’s this?” You ask suspiciously taking the bag. You felt your heart beating faster, not believing it was what you thought it was. 

“For you.” Phainon replies simply, waiting to see your reaction.

“What did you get her?” Hyacine gasps with glee, leaning closer in anticipation. The curiosity overwhelms you too, and you freeze as you peek into the bag. 

The little star plushie stares back at you.

“You- You bought it?” You ask softly, though your eyes going wide gave away that you were surprised. Phainon watches your expression carefully, and tries not to smile too much. “Phainon, you didn’t have to.”

“You liked it, didn’t you?” He counters, leaning his elbows on the surface of the table. And oh, how you hated how his casual response mirrored what your friends said to you a few weeks before- about something as simple as this being reason enough. Phainon never seemed to stop, like helping you was the easiest thing in the world. 

You stare down at the plushie, then between him and Hyacine. “I told Hyacine I’d forget about it eventually.”

Phainon tilts his head slightly. “Would you have?”

You idly look at Phainon, whose eyes seem to burn into yours with intensity, turning the question into a challenge. It makes you more flustered.

“I-” You stammer, your jaw going slack, not being able to form an answer. You end up sighing with a smile, realizing any excuse you might make would be null in the end. You clutch the plush a little tighter in your hands. “...I guess I wouldn’t have.”

Phainon grins softly at your surrender, the market lights reflecting off his face beautifully. 

By this time, the entire group had finally come together and decided to chill out here. You continued talking to Phainon, and for a while, you forget that you were here as a group- like it was just you two.

“Are you doing okay?” He asks you. “You seemed a little distant earlier.”

“I’m fine.” You say automatically. Phainon hums, not convinced. Somehow the tiny pout he sports makes you want to be vulnerable and tell him the truth, so you continue. “I just- it’s hard keeping up with everyone.”

Your reason sounded strange, but Phainon understood what you meant. He nods, but doesn’t push you, giving a reassuring grin. “You can just hang with me.”

The offer is casual, yet it makes you feel warm in the cold weather. And once again it’s like deja vu- where you felt like there was absolutely no reason for him to include you or make you feel comfortable in any way or for any reason. Yet he does. He always does.

“How did first semester treat you?” He says, changing the subject as he bumps his knee lightly against yours. 

“It was pretty normal.” You shrug. “I made a few friends, complained about professors and group projects a little. Exams were stressful, but nothing too out of the blue.”

“Complained enough to write a bad review on them?” He asks, clearly instigating. You watch as Phainon’s eyes twinkle mischievously, and you knew the website he was referring to. You snort before you could stop yourself, and Phainon grins faintly at the sound, visibly pleased he was able to pull it from you. 

“How else do you think I’m gonna spend my break?” You ask with a bit of sass. He laughs, nodding with approval. Phainon then shifts closer to you a little, his posture becoming more upright. It was subtle, but enough that he was creating a space where his attention felt undivided now. 

“You know…” He starts lightly. “We used to hang out more before university started.”

You’re caught off guard by his sudden observation. You didn’t expect him to speak up about the weird distance between you guys, but he was right. The last time you properly saw him was… before that day you bawled your eyes out and then shoved him away when he tried to comfort you. You cringe at the memory. God, you hope he forgot about that and remembered a different day when the two of you and Mydei were happy and playing games or something.

“I- have we…? What about… orientation?” Your grip on the plush tightens a little out of nervousness. You knew damn well orientation didn’t count for shit. Still, you attempt to feign obliviousness to ease some of the discomfort you felt inside, but Phainon chuckles, catching on immediately. 

“Yeah? And you probably saw the mascot more than me.” He pouts jokingly.

“No I didn’t-” You stammer, but suddenly stop yourself when you realize he could be right. You internally beat yourself up at the thought. 

“I’m just teasing.” Phainon laughs softly, then continues in a quieter tone. “Still… I kinda miss talking to you.”

And there it was. For once your heart wants to remember what it feels like to be wanted like this. You watch as Phainon straightens and closes his eyes for a second too long before continuing, as if he was trying to gather some confidence to prove the intention behind it.

“So,” His smile returns, charming as you’ve always known. “Do you wanna hang out sometime? Just us.”

Just as you thought your heartbeat could slow down, Phainon always seems to do something to prove that it was alive- that something inside was existing. Despite your shock and silence, Phainon doesn’t corner you with his proposal.

“We could go to a cafe, and I could buy you dessert… Or we can play video games over the break… Anything that doesn’t involve that stupid mascot.” He adds easily. Phainon gets another laugh out of you, and you somehow feel lighter. A beat of silence goes by again, and you watch as Phainon looks at you in anticipation.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You say breathily, a smile escaping you. Phainon exhales, looking strangely relieved, like he-

“Phainon-” Another voice suddenly interrupts, and you both whip your head to the source from across the picnic bench. It was another pink haired girl- albeit a slightly deeper shade of pink than Hyacine’s. Her name was Cyrene, if you remembered correctly. “Wait, are you blushing?” The girl tilts her head at Phainon, and you almost choke on air. Phainon bursts out laughing. 

“I’m not.” He turns to Cyrene, insisting with a charming smile, putting his hands up in mock surrender. You take a closer look at his cheeks now that his face was turned more to the side. You swear you saw a bit of pink… was he- no, surely this was just the cold getting to his skin.

“Well you sure blush like you were just caught flirting.” Cyrene snaps back with a bit of attitude. You’re not really sure what to do in this situation, and seemingly neither does Phainon as he looks like he’s being teased by his friend. Cyrene then turns towards you with a soft smile.

“My name is Cyrene. You’re (Y/n), right?~” Cyrene asks, and you nod in response. You found it peculiar how everything she said sounded both playful and sweet- like a song. She looks at you with her eyes bright and cheerful. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”

“I-I am…?” Your cheeks go warm as you short circuit at the sudden compliment. Hyacine who had been off engaging with the others returns to insert herself in this conversation, and nods along, agreeing. Wait, Hyacine- she was supposed to be on your side! 

“Mhm~ So…” Cyrene drags out her words with a devious smile, wagging a threatening finger at Phainon. “If you are flirting, you do know Mydei would beat you up, right?”

“I would.” Mydei lazily chimes in from a few seats down, diagonal to you. You almost forgot he was here. Phainon’s skill at isolating you guys was certainly effective. Your brother’s two little words give you mixed thoughts: one making note of how little hesitation or humour there was in his tone, and another where you seriously have concerns of your brother threatening to beat someone up again. Perhaps a trip to a rage room was due soon. 

“See? He just said he would kill you.” Cyrene enunciates, clearly understanding that her friend didn’t seem to register the what she was implying. Oddly enough, Phainon just chuckles.

“And, I wouldn’t blame him.” 

The rest of the conversation becomes a blur. You start losing track of what they were saying after Cyrene groaned at Phainon for being an oblivious puppy in knowing the consequences. What a bizarre answer… …Consequences of what?

You think back to the compliments Hyacine and Cyrene paid you, saying you were cute and pretty. You thought it was just girls hyping another girl up- as girls do. But then you think of Cyrene calling out Phainon for blushing and threats for him potentially flirting, and wonder if she was teasing him… or if she actually meant it. There was a part of you that was in disbelief, inching closer to the fact that… you might actually have a chance.

On top of all that, there was Phainon’s own reply, confirming that he’d take a beating from your brother if he actually did cross a line. You tell yourself you were reading too much into it again. 

“So… I’ll see you soon, right (Y/n)?”

That night after everyone bid their farewells, and you and Mydei returned home in your childhood home, you quickly crash into the warmth of your bed and whip out your phone. You contemplate whether calling your roommate was gonna lead to her lovingly bullying you again, but you end up telling her everything anyway.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, girl.” Your roommate sighs endearingly at you through the phone. “He made an effort to invite you, he looked for you, bought you a present... I don’t think you’re imagining things… so what do you have to lose?”

You notice that you’ve gotten too excited from how high your heart rate must be. Your smile falters (not realizing that you were even smiling this whole time in the first place), and you remember your own consequences. 

“...That’s just the problem.” You sigh back, sitting up properly now. “I don’t want to be delusional again. I can’t just launch myself into… whatever this is and make up assumptions that aren’t real.” You grab your little star plush Phainon got you from your bag. You glance down at your star plushie again, fiddling with its stupid little legs, thinking- why does a star even need to have legs? 

Your roommate’s voice softens. “But it feels different, doesn’t it?”

You don’t end up answering her.

“I’m not expecting anything.” You say finally. Despite these months of your stubbornness with the topic of Phainon, your roommate doesn’t argue. She just smiles knowingly on the other side of the line, and lets it go.

You conclude the call by telling her the rest of the whole marketplace experience, and her own winter break shenanigans. Later, when your room is quiet, you lie back on your bed, holding the star plush up to the ceiling. 

You look at its silly dangly legs, finding something so out of place cute that makes it different from the rest. Stars were supposed to stay high above everyone else, beautiful from a distance. 

But perhaps this star had been made to reach people anyway.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 19, second semester

Winter break came and went pretty fast. You and Mydei spend it mostly at home, spending time with your mom. Phainon went back to his hometown for the break as well. Like you said yourself, you weren’t expecting anything to happen during this time.

That is, until, a week after your second semester started, you started receiving texts from Phainon already. You remember your eyes widening at your phone screen when Phainon asked you if you wanted to do something during the weekends. From something as small as asking to join him in playing video games, to him insisting on accompanying you to a bookstore for your manga series, you said yes. Some small part inside you craved spending time with him, and you realized you did miss him a lot all this time. You felt like you reconnected with Phainon- just like when you were kids.

At the end of the semester, one of your peers decided to host a mixer and invited everyone in the class. The invitation sat in your messages for a while before you accepted it. A mixer… Just the thought alone of being invited sent a quiet thrill in your spine. 

Now, standing in front of the mirror, there was a brief moment where you wondered if you looked like you were trying too hard with your outfit… or too little. You wore something that showed a little more skin- a little more mature and confident, something you didn’t usually wear. Still, you decide not to dwell on the issue for long and head out. 

By the time you reached the location, there was already music and familiar people from your class there. People were clustered up, animatedly talking, hopefully having fun after the stress of final exams. A girl from your class waves you over, and passes a light drink to you. Soon enough, you overcame the initial anxiety and it felt freeing to mix in with the group.

Well, only for the first ten minutes.

You were going to excuse yourself to say hi to another acquaintance when a white-haired mass suddenly came into view- a particularly tall and handsome white-haired mass. 

Phainon? Here of all places?

Your stomach drops and you quickly duck near a corner, careful not to spill your drink or look crazy sneaking around. You peek over and see Phainon with his back turned, leaning against the kitchen island as he engages in conversation with other people. 

Your pulse was getting frantic, but you take a deep breath to try and calm yourself. Oh, but who were you kidding? If Phainon saw you here, you were sure that he would report you to Mydei within the minute. 

Phainon walks away from the kitchen counter, going off somewhere else, and you go the same direction as him to not cross paths with him. Could it be possible to avoid him this whole time? God, it was stupid when you thought about it. You basically just got here, and it shouldn’t even be scary to see Phainon here. But you weren’t really in the mood to see his smug grin or get lectured by your brother. Maybe you could hang with someone else and hide-

“That’s an interesting strategy.” A voice murmurs in your ear.

Phainon was already standing behind you, bending down to your height and way too close as amusement curls at the edge of his lips.

“Ah- Phainon! You scared me!” You hiss, your face going warm with embarrassment as you jolt backwards. Phainon only grins wider at your startled reaction. You become defensive, eyeing him up suspiciously. “What- why are you here?”

“I know the host.” Phainon says easily, then cheekily fires the same question to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.” You grit. Phainon chuckles and shakes his head at your answer, and you internally smack your forehead. Out of all excuses, you had to say the most suspicious one? 

“Nothing but drinking, you mean?” Phainon inquires, pointing at your cup and clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Mydei won’t be happy to hear this.”

Your face freezes at the mention of Mydei potentially knowing you were here. “I-It’s only five percent alcohol!”

“Ooh, how scandalous.” Phainon laughs, and you puff your cheeks in frustration of him teasing you.

“Oh shut up. I came here by myself so I’m not here to get drunk.” You say, rolling your eyes. 

“Even more scandalous.” He says with a whistle, and you groan. Phainon’s eyes soften, sensing he’s teased you enough. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mydei.”

Phainon’s words surprise you a little. Oddly enough, he let's you have fun and doesn't report you like you thought he would.

As the night went on, you were pulled into conversations and stupid debates, laughing at some of your peers’ weird dance moves. Every now and then, you’d catch sight of Phainon somewhere across the house- sometimes talking to other people, sometimes smiling at you, and sometimes bumping your hip beside you as he indulges the conversation with you. 

The buzz of the music gets louder as the night goes on. You participate in the fun, but eventually you start feeling tired. Phainon notices and he taps your shoulder, leaning down, telling you something… but you don’t hear anything. Because he was so close, you suddenly realize the golden sun tattoo on the side of his neck- when did he get that? As Phainon spoke, you felt a little rush inside you, making you space out. You tried making sense of your surroundings but you soon realize that he was taking over all your senses. What you could see, what you could smell… muting all of them into one: him. Was he experiencing the same buzzing feeling? You watched as his lips curved up into a grin, whispering something to you. You stare at his lips- a faint blush colour, soft and plump… you wondered what it would feel like if you…

You nod plainly in response to him, though his words clearly weren’t getting through to you. Phainon realizes you were spacing out and he chuckles lightly and stands back up, holding his hand out. You blankly take it and he guides you out of the party. Also, did you just think of-

“You okay? I asked if you were getting tired.” Phainon breathes out, his voice finally reaching your ears.

“Hm- oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You perk up as you snap out of your daze. “I am a little tired…”

“I’ll drive you back then.” He says, already taking his car keys out. He phrases it not even as a question, like he would do it for you regardless. “Do you have everything?” 

You nod, and you both get into his car. The drive back to your dorm was strangely quiet. It was slightly awkward since your peer’s house wasn’t even that far from your residence, so the ride was gonna be short. However, it felt like there was something else underneath. It was something heavy, but not an uncomfortable-pit-in-your-stomach type of heavy. It was something more charged.

The blinker clicks lightly while the streetlights gradually slide across Phainon’s face in fleeting moments. His jaw, his mouth, the curve of his hands gripping the steering wheel. You looked away before you could get caught staring. God, you were going crazy for sure, you think. 

Your pulse still hasn’t settled. Was it adrenaline from the party? Maybe so, but even then it shouldn’t make you think of kis- 

“We’re here.” Phainon softly sing-songs. You get out of the car, and Phainon decides to walk you to your door. Again, not a question. 

When you both walk into the building together, you realized it was sort of awkward with the both of you being silent this whole time. Even more so as you arrived in the narrow hallway just outside your door. Phainon walks behind you, close enough that his presence alone fills your space. As you stop at your door, you decide to say something, though he’s closer than you expect when you turn to him. You clear your throat, your hand fumbling inside your purse to find your keys to regulate yourself. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You say, looking up at him gratefully. “And… thanks for not snitching on me.”

Phainon huffs a quiet laugh. “Anytime.”

You smiled despite yourself, like it was a subconscious thing- maybe it even a contagious thing, knowing Phainon was here. Even as you briefly look down to take your keys out, Phainon was already looking at you, like he had something to say, but he doesn’t. 

You were about to unlock your door and say goodbye, but somehow your body doesn’t want to listen. You don’t feel like doing it. Your dreamy daze continues, your eyes dipping over Phainon’s outfit. You suddenly felt aware of how good he looked in a white skin-tight shirt and jeans- did he always wear things like this? You catch a glimpse of the sun tattoo you saw earlier beneath the collar of his shirt, and you even swear you see a broad gold ring on his chest- another hidden one beneath his shirt. It makes you even more curious- but more than that, it made you want him. 

Before you knew it, your body had a mind of its own, leaning in without shame with your hands shyly but certainly reaching for him- to be closer to him. Your fingers brush his, and your breath hitches, the sparks making you second guess if you should even be doing this. But when you finally bring yourself to look up at him, his gaze was already looking down to your mouth.

“(Y/n)...” HIs voice drops, barely louder than a breath. His expression softens, yet his pupils were blown wide, as if there was something unguarded slipping through. He leans in, slow and careful, giving you time to pull away. Your breathing and your heart beats faster than ever. This definitely wasn’t just the adrenaline from the party.

Suddenly, a small click is heard and Phainon mutters a curse and pulls away quickly.

Wait…

You were stunned for a few seconds, watching as he pulled back. Before you could think of how to react, your door swings open to reveal Mydei looking sleepy yet confused. Oh yeah, your roommate already went home for the summer, so now you had a giant cat invading your space. You told Mydei you were gonna go out with some friends and then go back home with him after- you forgot you left him lounging here for a while. 

“Where were you?” Mydei quirks an eyebrow at you, and gives an even more skeptical look at Phainon. “And what are you doing here?”

“I was just dropping her off.” Phainon says lightly, though you could tell he was trying his best to not sound shaky. You weren’t sure how it was possible for him to reply and make up something so calmly.  Especially since the skin of your hand was still buzzing where you touched his just seconds ago. “She just got caught up saying bye to some friends.” Mydei gives him a weird look, but doesn’t question you both, and you give a sigh of relief.

Your brother and Phainon make small talk, both asking if they were heading home for the summer. Meanwhile, you remained silent, in your own little bubble unable to calm your racing heart.

“Get some rest.” Phainon addresses you with a simple wave, and just like that, he was gone. God, you wanted to… you wish you could…

“Why is he even still here on campus?” Mydei interrupts your train of thought as he holds your door open for you.

“O-Oh… I dunno. I bumped into him on the way back.” You say casually, walking into your dorm. Lies. “Why are you here so early…?”

“It’s night time.” Mydei retorts back. “Anyway, are you done packing your stuff?”

You nod, and quickly grab your bags and head back home with Mydei. 

The drive was silent, but for you it wasn’t. Even though you were exhausted after the mixer, you couldn’t seem to be able to rest during the long drive home. You look out the window, a small smile plastered on your face as you replay that brief yet charged moment in your head. The way he leaned in, the way you could feel his breath on your lips as he whispered your name…

You almost kissed him.

Was it always like this? Your heart was beating fast as it always did, but for once you didn’t feel surprised. It felt more like… you were finally letting yourself do something you always wanted to do. Like you’ve been waiting and wanting something, and that it was okay to want things. 

Maybe it was just the realization that Phainon was always perfectly within your grasp. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Age: 19, Summer Break

Phainon: Good morning. Phainon: I’m sorry about last night. 

It’s been a good twelve hours since you and Phainon almost kissed. At first you thought you had hallucinated it, and that you became delusional for real. Just as you had believed that this was just a figment of your imagination, Phainon never texted you- until this morning. 

(Y/n): Phainon, I don’t understand. (Y/n): Was it something I did…? Phainon: No, god no. Never. (Y/n): Then why are you apologizing?

You felt your smile drop, the warmth from last night following suit, slowly leaking away. 

Phainon: Because I'm sorry if I crossed a line. Phainon: You didn’t do anything wrong. I just didn’t want things to be awkward between us.

And it’s just so funny, isn’t it? How you’ve kept yourself safe on your own little island, with walls built so high and an army to guard your heart. And the one time you decide to let them down and embrace the sunlight, it hurts so much more. 

Confusion seems to consume you, making you anxious. The thought that you might have been too forward and was reading it all wrong feel like deja vu, specifically the same bitter feeling that you were so used to. The mere thought that Phainon didn’t want this to happen, makes your stomach coil. However, underneath the dreadful feeling was something else- because this wasn’t about you. Although you had this uncomfortable twinge of fear you refused to admit out loud, it wasn’t for yourself, but for Phainon. You stay rigid in your bed, staring at your phone. What exactly was Phainon thinking of that you weren’t?

A week later, you start getting antsy because you realize how quiet your summer vacation began. You continue to get nothing from Phainon. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he was probably busy with things back home. But as your phone sits on your desk, the screen continuing to be dark and empty, you find yourself constantly checking it, and it didn’t take long for your mind to spiral.

It’s ironic how noticeable an absence can be. 

Later, just past noon, you start to smell food being prepared, so you go down to investigate. You realized your mom was going all out for some reason, seasoning steaks and cutting vegetables as your kitchen became a room with groceries stacked high. There seemed to be something in the oven already as well. You get curious and decide to ask Mydei what your mother was preparing for.

“Hey.” You ask as you walk into his room, seeing him lounging and playing a video game lazily.

“Hey.” He responds. Mydei eyes you a little for a second then goes back to focusing on his game. “You’ve been in your room for a while.”

“Yeah…” You sigh a little sheepishly as Mydei points it out, straightforward as always. “Do you know what mom is preparing all that food for?”

“We’re barbecuing tonight, remember?” Mydei replies smoothly without looking up from his game. “I’ve got a honeycake in the oven too.”

Mydei was in charge of the cake apparently, and already had it in baking in the oven. You soften at the thought. And then you don’t because he might have put boogers in there. 

“Oh… that’s a lot of food.” You remark. Something feels off for some reason, ironically like an emptiness despite the feast being prepared. 

When you walked into his room, you considered asking your brother what he would do if he was hypothetically faced with the situation you were- with Phainon that is. But then you already think of his response and- “I dunno, they both sound like idiots to me.” Yep, no help at all. To think you almost considered bucking up the courage to ask your brother for advice, when it should be better to question his reliability. 

Instead, you ask him a more direct question-

“...Is Phainon coming?” You ask. Your cheeks get a little warm, but satisfying your curiosity was more important.

The mention of Phainon seems to get Mydei’s attention a little more. “...No?”

It’s ironic how one little word could get you to frown so easily. But it simply didn’t sound right to you. Ever since you were teenagers, Phainon has came over consistently to your house, showing up to practically everything. Barbecues, birthdays, movie nights… or even the simple weekends where nothing special was happening, he ended up staying longer than expected. And when you all became older and busier, he always made the effort to show up at least once. There had never been a question of whether he was coming. 

“Oh…” The disappointed response tumbles out of your mouth before you even thought about it. You tell yourself that Phainon wasn’t obligated to come over, that he had his own life and responsibilities. Heck, he wasn’t even your friend first- he was technically Mydei’s but…

Still…

“Why do you ask?” Mydei asks, pausing his video game, sensing that you were concerned about something deeper.

It still felt wrong to you. 

“Because… I thought he’d be coming. He always comes over during the summer…” You reply cautiously. 

“So?” 

“So... he’s your best friend.”

“Isn’t he also yours?” Mydei retorts back skeptically. 

“Well yeah… but usually you invite him over.” You say meekly. 

“I asked him already.” Mydei sighs.  “Said he was busy.”

A lump forms in your throat. God, what were you supposed to do now? There were too many things unsaid, and even more things you wanted to ask. A part of you felt like Phainon’s response was an excuse- that if you didn’t get him now, that he’d just get farther from you. Were you going to have to wait until who knows when to talk to Phainon again? 

As your hand idly trails along your brother’s bedroom wall, it was like you’ve experienced this before. You, at thirteen years old, gathering all the courage you had (none) to nervously enter in your brother’s room to get your charger back- all at the expense of meeting Phainon. You remember how shy you were when Phainon tried talking to you that time, how weirded out you were when he tried to include you out of the blue. You were at the same place you were then- at the threshold of Mydei's doorway until Phainon stole the last word, calling out one last thing.

"Maybe next time then."

Before you could overthink it, you push yourself off the wall and face Mydei again.

“Can you ask him again?” You ask, and Mydei gives you a weird look.

“Why would I- he’s gonna say no again.” Mydei says. Now, why would his dear sister actively request Phainon’s presence? Even you, the sister, do not know. 

“Tell him I want him there.” You reply. The quiet determination in your eyes almost shocks Mydei. 

He blinks at you for a split second, like he understood the meaning behind it. Your brother doesn’t question you for once. He doesn’t get suspicious, or feel the need to protect you.

“...Fine.” Mydei sighs and picks up his phone again, and you watch as his fingers tap the screen to send the new text to Phainon. You stand there biting your lip, not even sure if this would work. You can’t even believe that Mydei actually agreed to do it. 

You thank your brother, and finally walk out of his bedroom, knowing the response might take time. But not even a second after you step into your own room, a buzz comes from your phone.

Phainon: Hey, I’m on my way. I’ll be there around 5.

Phainon: Thanks for inviting me 

A glimmer of hope finally starts to exist within your mind. Phainon was coming, simply because you asked. And maybe you were right about him- maybe he was just waiting for you, just like he always has. 

A few hours later, your doorbell rings. Your mom is the first to dash to the door, dropping everything to greet Phainon with a bone-crushing hug. Of course, Phainon’s used to it so it does little to affect him. 

“Phainon! Oh my goodness, look at you!” Your mother coos, the same endearments making Phainon chuckle. She continues gushing about Phainon as if he was family already- which in a sense he was. “You’ve grown so much- and so handsome too! Mydei, can you believe it?” 

You can smell your brother’s eyeroll from here. Meanwhile, Phainon smiles easily, nodding and murmuring something polite and charming. You haven’t even gone down to greet him yet, but little does anyone else know, hearing his voice- the mere existence and knowledge that he was here sent a thrill through you.

You hear your mother tell the boys that the barbecue will start soon, and they should wash up. The boys insist on helping your mom and they argue in a good-natured way. They split up and start preparing different things, with Mydei helping your mom prepare the grill. You hesitate for a moment, but take this as a cue to finally talk to Phainon.

You walk out from your bedroom, and as you linger at the top of the stairs looking down, Phainon seems to subconsciously pause mid-motion. Your heart still skipped when he looked at you- hands tucked into his pockets and white messy hair catching the sunlight from outside your backyard’s door. He subtly turns his head to you, and his smile was still there- soft, slightly hopeless, and nervous, like he was bracing himself for this moment just as you have.

“Hey…” He says lightly. It’s only been one week since you last saw him, yet it feels like it’s been a year. He even greets you like it’s been a year, and you knew he was feeling the same thing you were. You step closer, and you watch as his eyes attempt to hide the tension. 

“Hi…” You take a deep breath, the feeling of determination not helping you steady your nerves. But truthfully, you cared more that he was just here with you. His hopeless smile seems to be contagious as you start to sport the same one as you sigh with relief. “You made it.”

“Yeah…” Phainon breathes out. Oddly, his smile gets wider, like he was happy to end up coming to your home.

“...Can we talk?” You ask hesitantly. As always, Phainon surprises you, as he willingly walks closer to you, as if to follow you wherever. 

“Of course.” He replies smoothly. You give him a nod and slowly lead to towards your bedroom for a more private conversation. 

You close your door after Phainon walks in. He seems to curiously look around your room, noticing the little trinkets and photos that have changed over the years. He hasn’t been here for a while.

“Can I sit?” Phainon asks, patting your bed. You nod and say yes, and you both sit on the edge. You didn’t know where to start- diving straight into the obvious thing seemed too heavy.

“Mydei told me you were busy…” You remark. “I thought you weren’t gonna come.”

“I know.” He admits sheepishly. You felt the honesty beneath his words as he tries to ease any negative feelings you might harbour towards him for his initial excuse.  “I just thought that… I had crossed a line.”

“Crossed a line?” You repeat. Phainon pauses, then sighs endearingly. Your question was innocent, yet posed a different meaning for Phainon. For the first time in weeks, he feels the weight of what he’s kept inside.

“Remember what happened after the mixer?” Phainon asks. You nod, and he continues. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?” 

“You know what.” He says with a light chuckle and nudge to your arm to ease the tension and awkwardness. “I… I almost kissed you.”

“But I almost kissed you too.” You remark guilelessly. Your gaze was unwavering, and you can feel him register the resolve behind it. You weren’t going to drop this were you? Of course you weren’t. So Phainon exhales slowly, giving a small awkward smile as he lowers his guard a little.

“...And that’s the problem. You’re Mydei’s sister. You’re not just anyone to me (Y/n)- you’re important. I can’t risk ruining what I have with you and Mydei.” Phainon sighs, rubbing his forehead like this was making him sweat. With how he was behaving, you get the feeling that he likely felt guilty- like a bastard who shouldn’t be liking his best friend’s sister, making it equivalent to a sin. Phainon seems to know something you don’t. Phainon sputters a little as he’s stuck between going off on a nervous rant and being gentle. Then he finally brings himself to explain further. “I-I mean… what would you have done if we really leaned in? Do you even know how to kiss?” 

“No…” You admit. “But you seem like you’d be good at it.”

“You really think so?” Phainon laughs softly, seeming curious at your remark. Oddly enough, his tone gets softer like a whisper as he presses you for another question. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re… you know…” You stammer, trying to latch onto something specific, but truthfully you could say anything. You take a good look at him and he’s still perfection incarnate. Phainon laughs softly again.

“I think you think way too highly of me.” He smiles, his tone slightly teasing like he found your answer amusing. You might even go as far as to say that he might’ve sounded a bit shy when he said that. Phainon’s hand lays on the bed, his pinky millimeters away from yours. He leans back a bit, as if to get a better look at you too. “How would you know if I’ve kissed anyone?”

You think again for a moment, except this time you didn’t have an answer. Phainon looks back at you patiently.

“I don’t know.” You admit quietly, but determination lingers in your eyes. Did you really know? No, of course not. No matter how perfect you thought he was, there was no way you could know if he had that kind of experience. So there was only one way to.

“But I want to know.”

Phainon’s breath catches in his throat, genuinely speechless for a moment at your response. He simply looks at you, the noises of the evening starting to disappear. His blue eyes seem strangely brighter than usual, like they were seeing every past version of yourself. And now here you were, your present self saying words that mirrored his own when he first met you, yearning to know more about each other. Just a girl standing in the hallway, waiting for someone to notice her, and a kind boy simply smiling back at her, who always has. He suddenly lets out a chuckle, small and breathless as he finally surrenders his noble front.

“Come here then.” He coaxes softly, his lashes seemingly fluttering in slow motion as his eyes open. You blink in surprise.

“What?”

“Come here.” Phainon repeats, his expression softening. His smile doesn’t falter, in fact- only getting wider and making the corners of his eyes crinkle in that boyish way you’ve always known. Somehow, you understood, and you start to surrender your own noble front as you move closer to him, unashamedly smiling just as bright as him. 

Phainon’s eyes trail your own as your thigh touches his. His hand comes up carefully to cup your cheek. There was no more hesitation in either of your movements. No more almosts and no more waiting- only the split second pause where you both realize this was the closest you’ve ever been, breaths mingling and eyes hazy as if you both couldn’t believe this was happening. You lean in even more, just the same as you did that night, and Phainon does too, just like you always knew he would. 

He leans down, and presses his lips to yours, letting his restraint crack just to taste what he’s been waiting so long for. You both close your eyes, savouring soft warmth of each other’s lips. Even the little smiles and chuckles, and now your hands softly laying on his chest were enjoyable. 

You pull away for a brief moment, yours and Phainon’s lips leaving with a soft smooch sound. There was a flicker of disbelief in your eyes, with Phainon’s looking equally as stunned. But the easy smiles that come after make you realize how it came so effortlessly for Phainon- nothing but affection. 

You both stare at each other, a little breathless and a little shy as if it was a way to come back down to Earth. But neither of you seem to want to let go. Phainon’s hand remains near your cheek, while yours remains loosely gripping onto the hem of his shirt. 

“I’m glad you wanted to know.” Phainon says softly with an awkward but loving smile. He gets a laugh out of you too, and even now he finds himself craving the sound more. He’d like to make you laugh like that more in the future. Now if only… “Shit- your brother’s gonna kill me.”

You watch as Phainon looks away slightly, his face going pale except for a sheepish blush. The consequence dawns on you as well, but in this moment as you’re still high on dopamine, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it. 

“He’s gonna kill me too.” You shrug, trying to make him feel better. “And you say it as if you’re not one of his favourite people.”

“You’re his sister, he can’t be mad at you. Not for long at least.” Phainon says while sighing. Even though this guilt eats him up, he can’t help but smile. “Me though… I might need to pay in my next life.”

“But he’s never threatened to disown you.” You challenge. Phainon lets out a hearty laugh at your honesty, knowing his best friend could get quite creative with insults.

“Maybe not, but I feel like I’m about to find out.” Still, even if you both were about to be disowned by Mydei, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Phainon look this happy to be disowned. 

“We should head down now.” Phainon says softly, as the laughter dies down. You nod, though neither of you really move, both still sitting on your bed, smiling like dopes. You both laugh again, until Phainon stands and offers you his hand to stand up as well.

You take it without hesitation, and he pulls you up gently. And he doesn’t let go- neither of you do actually.

His fingers fit between yours easily, like it was meant to be this way. You and Phainon begin to walk towards your bedroom door to exit, though he seems a little hesitant.

“(Y/n)- how exactly are we going to explain to Mydei about this…?” He asks nervously, looking mildly embarrassed. You shrug, still not really caring.

“He’s just gonna have to deal with it.” You say casually, reaching for the doorknob. “Also, maybe don’t mention my brother within five minutes after we kiss.” 

A cheeky grin spreads on Phainon's face, finding your response utterly defiant yet endearing. He chuckles, shaking his head while smiling helplessly. A thousand teasing responses are circling within his head, though he opts to sprinkle a little sarcasm in there. “My bad. I’ll try to do better next time then.”

“Oh? There will be a next time?” 

A guttural scream tears through your throat (again?). MYDEI?!

Your’s and Phainon’s jaws both go slack, speechless as you both remain frozen in the threshold of your doorway. There stood your brother, deadpan with his arms crossed… wearing an apron and oven mitts. 

“Wh- MYDEI!!” You scream, mortified. You want to throw something at him, but the only thing beside you was a Phainon. “How long have you been standing there?!”

“How long have I been standing here? I think the better question is why you both aren’t downstairs.” Mydei’s tone reeks of sarcasm, very much not in the mood to take any bullshit from either of you. 

You realize Mydei was right- the entire house smelled delicious with the smells of good food was wafting everywhere. 

“There are steaks being grilled outside. I made honeycake...” Mydei lists, looking genuinely perplexed. Then his eyes look between you and Phainon, looking absolutely disgusted. “And yet here you both are… …kissing?”

You think you see Mydei shiver and gag slightly when he says the k-word, which should have been funny but right now you feel too defensive to think about that.

“MYDEI!!” 

Mydei barely has time to react when you suddenly decide to launch yourself at him.

“Hey-” Mydei sputters, grunting as you smack his arm, and then his shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What is wrong with you?!” You snap back and hit your brother more though it doesn’t really affect him since he was holding you back. 

Meanwhile, Phainon watches the petty catfight of a sibling argument with a fond smile on his face. With Mydei looking disgusted while wearing an apron and oven mitts, fighting against you who was aggressively clawing at your brother like a cat, Phainon internally declares that he has never seen a more stupid thing in his life. Goodness, was this the glory that Kremnoans were known for? Somehow, it endeared him even more. 

“I don’t get why you’d be busy kissing when there’s good food downstairs.”

“STOP SAYING IT!”

“I made you a honeycake… for this?”

“I know you made honeycake! You mentioned it fifty times in the past two minutes! Is this seriously your priority?!” 

“My priority?- Look at yours!”

Was there really any point to this argument anymore?

After a few more lovely seconds of arguing, Phainon sighs fondly and clasps his hands, one of yours and the other on your brother’s shoulder. You and Mydei oddly stop bickering, both looking at Phainon’s expression which could only be described as fond disbelief. This entire scene was ridiculous, but somehow also his favourite.

“Alright alright, let’s just go down now. Hm?” Phainon smiles, hoping to ease the playful bullying. Mydei continues to glare at him. Right message, wrong messenger…

“...I’m gonna kill that guy.” Mydei seethes, looking straight at Phainon yet addressing you.

You want to start fighting your brother again, but to your surprise, Phainon laughs harder before you could react. Then, with the same gentle amusement from years ago, he reaches over and lightly pats Mydei’s shoulder. 

“I’ll hold you to it.”

The words feel familiar, because they are. You look at him now- his eyes crinkling with mirth as he said nearly the same thing months ago. For some reason, as you watch Mydei glare at Phainon- the bastard you just kissed had the audacity to smile at him, the silent look they gave each other somehow explained something you were secretly worrying about this whole time but never had to. 

Mydei probably knew, you think. You’re not sure how long he’s been suspecting it, though when you look back at your own antics it was probably obvious anyway. You cringe internally, not wanting to think about your brother knowing about this thing with Phainon for who knows how long. 

“Now- can we go eat before someone gets murdered?” Phainon asks tenderly, interrupting the chaos. It’s ironic how Phainon seems the happiest here, while you and Mydei both grumble and surrender. He’s still smiling, still patient with you and your brother. Phainon laughs again, and you all head downstairs together- though this time, Phainon doesn’t let go of your hand. 

And naturally, you don’t think to let go either. 

Your porch lights seem to glow with the same warmth that you’ve felt over the years. Your mother lovingly scolds Mydei for disappearing, and Mydei only grumbles saying nobody appreciates his cooking. 

You feel thirteen again as your memories overlap with reality. The smell of home cooking, summer air drifting through the windows, your brother being broody… And Phainon- a boy who started out a mystery, a teenage boy who simply sat at your table smiling like he already belonged there. You come to realize something: Phainon had never been a guest at this house. 

All those years, while you were busy mourning things you thought weren’t meant for you, something else was growing beside you the whole time. He became so much more to you, simply because he wanted to be, and because you finally let him.

And for Phainon? Of course it was easy for him. He had always been reaching for home in the first place.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Notes:

For reference, this fic is called Seventeen :)

Anyway thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed <3

Edit: THERE ARE SO MANY ERRORS I'M CRINGING SO BAD

[rhenuvee]

This is so random but to my fellow mutuals:

I have an art fight account😶 I was questioning whether I should reveal it. I wanted to give priorities to any mutuals so if you are on art fight, feel free to let me know if you would like for me to draw your ocs <3

[rhenuvee]

Hiii rhen rhen I lowkey have disappeared because of school…. BUT OMG HII I hope you are doing amazing. I came here to say I finally e6 my phainon!!

And seeing the new summer sps for robin and aven and I started thinking about what a beach date with phai would look like. And he would 100% would have this cute little permanent blush because he would be so enthralled by his s/o beach wear no matter what it is. I can also definitely see him wanting to be the one to put sunscreen on you, no if’s and our buts about it. OH and if you’re on the shorter side? He’d be willing to carry you around on the deeper ends of the water. You’d have a picnic on the beach and he’d be snuggled into you, head on your lap like a puppy. He will compliment you in everything, how you look, smile, the way the sun cascades onto your skin. All of it.

And by the end of the day if you’re tired he’s picking up everything, and also carry you back to the car to go home.

This was super random but I love phainon.. and we all deserve puppy phainon at the beach!!

Stay healthy and happy!! c:

HI Jasleen!! I hope you've been well! I'm guessing school is finally over or close to being over for you then? I'm doing pretty well <3 Glad to hear that you e6-ed your Phainon, I'm jealous!

Omg beach date with Phai- sign me up. Yes yes I agree, I think he'd be all responsible at first with packing and making sure we're protected from the sun. (What he doesn't know is that we have to protect ourselves from the other sun lol). After that, he's gonna be so excited like those big dogs who run and splash in the water with a big smile on his face. I'd love to be carried then snuggled by Phai <3

But also... the way I wouldn't be able to keep eye contact with him because he's also gorgeous in the sun being all sweaty and shirtless and also w e t a b s 🤤 Imagine Phainon sharing an ice cream with us and it accidentally drips on his chest... He would pout so cutely not even knowing that I wanna lick it and he looks so hot.

I love the thought of Phainon just admiring us the whole beach trip :( like I want a hot girl summer! I want to feel hot and desired?? So AMEN- we do deserve puppy phainon at the beach!!!!!!

Thank you for these lovely summer thoughts with Phai! Wishing you a hot girl summer <33

[rhenuvee]

I really need to update my rules and stuff…

[rhenuvee]

i know i already congratulated you but i’ll CONGRATULATE YOU AGAIN!! happy grad ❤️

now think of your blorbos wanting a copy of your graduation picture so they can keep it in their wallet. so they can stick it on their corkboard in the office or in their study. or behind your phone because they use a transparent phone case 🤍

stuff like these just make me melt! and this is most definitely inspired by the notion that recently, my irl closest friends gave me graduation photocards of themselves with dedication letters behind it. it’s a really sweet thing to do & i feel like our blorbos would want to do something like that too

definitely not crying as i imagine my dearest flins keeping my own graduation photocard safe with a soft, tender smile. him just holding it like a precious little thing with such a soft soft smile, or or phainon, late into the night, at his own desk, looking every now and then at the skyline while writing his own letter behind the photocard. he cannot wait to give his own grad photocard to me ACKKKK

holding your hand very tightly. i am coping v hard rhen

Butter this is so sweet, THANK YOU!! 🥹💜

Aaaaa I love the thought of my blorbos keeping a copy of my graduation picture! You and your friends giving each other grad photos + dedication letters is so nice!

Thinking of Diluc keeping my photo in his wallet... and also bringing flowers for my graduation (I'm still not forgetting the windrest flowers he gave us on his birthday) <3 And then Phai keeping a photo on his desk and buying matching grad plushies (imagine graduation chimera plushies??? insert vigethos + our own chimera) <3 Just the thought of my faves in general being proud of me on a special day like this heals me 💜💜

YOUR DEAREST FLINS AND PHAI DEFINITELY WOULD!! I feel like Flins might keep a copy in a little photo album and look at your pictures from time to time with a fond smile. It looks like he's reading a book but he's not lol. And ofc Phai would write something on the back of the photo since he's so sentimental.

Thank you for giving me these lovely thoughts Butter!!

[rhenuvee]

But why fix’s name is Seventeen?

Hello! Good question☝️ (gonna ramble so bear with me):

The original title was “Could Never Tell You What Happened the day I Turned…” which are lyrics from Marina’s song Seventeen. At the time I thought this title was fitting because I was spinning the lyric to fit MC’s story of growing up with Phainon and having these conflicting emotions. The title was so long so I shortened it to Seventeen because that’s what the comes after that line.

However, as I continued to write, I felt like Seventeen (the song) was not really reflecting the underlying message.

Right now the new title is technically “Took my Bitterness and Made it Sweet” (from Soft to be Strong) but tbh Im still kind of unsatisfied with that title even though the message is better… and it’s also kinda long 😭

A part of me is still attached to the title Seventeen, so I stuck with both.

[rhenuvee]

Oh my god... (Transcendence Trailer):

#WEALLGETGUNS!!

A ballerina character!! I've been waiting for one since I used to do ballet

The fairy (Druzhna) girl is so cute <3 even though they're technically the feds lol

Oh shit another redhead... things are not looking good for me

He's got the wuwa symbol on his neck ^

Bear guy is handsome too 🤤 I wish they showed more of him properly but nonetheless I love my men in uniform

The little boy with the Tsaritsa has Khaenri'ah eyes...

Does the cold bother the Tsaritsa anyway?

[butteronabun]

(cw: suggestive, reader is implied to be smaller than phainon)

It must be the stress, for you to be pinned down to the couch by a lovely man who’s bigger than you. 

How did you end up like this again? You can’t quite recall. All your mind ever supplies are the feelings of frustrations when things did not go your way throughout the week—there was the stupidity from your team that you can’t quite grasp that led to the delays; a friend of yours owing you a favor who then went MIA for some reason, and the snuffed out flame within you that was supposed to be fueled by your preferred beverage, or else you wouldn’t get any work done this week. 

Spoiler alert: there was little to no progress, despite the indulgence of your drink, and it’s already Friday. Normally, you would be having a panic attack ( because gods, you are way behind schedule! ), but even your soul is too tired for something like that. Unfortunately, you do not have the time to trek a mountain and scream your lungs out.

When you arrived home—to the small, comforting apartment you share with Phainon—it was the only moment the universe gave you for some needed reprieve. And said reprieve was a super hot boyfriend in all his endearing glory. 

Phainon already changed into his baggy clothes, and had his glasses resting on his nose bridge. Gone were the smart casual fits and contacts he usually wore, but then again, he was still super hot. When he saw you from the couch, Phainon paused some movie he was watching. In real time, his mouth opened wide into a huge grin and he immediately ran towards you with arms already open.

“Honey, you’re here!”

You allowed yourself to be shadowed and crushed into a tight embrace by the enthusiastic man, who for sure was aware of how strong his grip was. You also allowed Phainon to yap your ears off, despite wishing all day for a semblance of peace. Though to be quite frank, Phainon’s voice was hella soothing to the ears and you were hella in love with him you really couldn’t quite bring yourself to zip his lips. 

Though, you did have a plan on how to do that, just not the rude way.

Pulling away from the hug, Phainon was still smiling—overjoyed to see you. He still had one arm curled around your waist, and then, oh, his large, warm hand cupping your cheek. You didn’t know why, but at that one touch, your eyes stung. Phainon did not seem to notice yet how you blinked once, then twice, and you weren’t sure of what he was saying next.

Your ears only picked up the: “I made some soup that you liked so much. Of course, I needed some assistance from Mydei, because well, you know. He’s a better cook than all of us, but, but, rest assured that I did all the work!” Yeah, you still weren’t sure why your eyes stung and your vision seems to blur, but you blink it again. Once. And twice. “After eating dinner, what would you like to do next, honey? It’s Friday, so that means we can stay up all night, if that’s what you wish. We could get started on watching that series you’ve been eyeing for a while—”

“H–hey, Phainon?” Oh. Fuck. Your voice cracked. Great.

And the thing was, Phainon was perceptive. This was one aspect that some folks missed. The elation in his face disappeared—and it was replaced by furrowed brows and lips curving downwards. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Is there something wrong, hon—”

And also, if there was one thing to distract him with, you could always use yourself. 

“Do you wanna make out?”

5 minutes later there are two lips smacking passionately on the couch. 

Right, so that’s what happened. Yes, you’re stressed. Super stressed. And very very tired, and you do not want to burden your boyfriend who’ll also get stressed over you once he learns that you haven’t been feeling so good. You don’t want to add ‘Reassure Phainon That There’s Nothing to Worry About’ on your list, so you pull Phainon closer to yourself. Letting yourself enveloped by none other than Phainon of Aedes Elysiae. 

The kiss deepens, and your tongue meets his. Phainon releases a groan, before melting right into you. Yes. This is it. At least distracting Phainon is going according to plan—

“—Hah, honey, you’re doing this again, mmph—” You yank him again to prevent him from talking, and you wonder if he’s talking about you taking the lead in kissing, not until he pries himself from you again ( though he looks so pained from doing that ). “The-there’s something wrong, isn’t it? Hey—”

You tug him by the choker, and he elicits a sound that’s only reserved for your ears. You smooch him again, and there’s no doubt that Phainon is delighted by this, with him kissing you back once more with a contented moan, not until he whimpers, and shakily grabs your wrist. Again, he detaches himself, though it looked like he didn’t want to, so his face is still inches closer to yours. 

Breaths are intermingled, and you do everything in your power to seduce him by pecking him again, but he whines, “Honey.”

You open your eyes, and there it is. The expression of concern plastered on his face. He’s still so hot, despite it all.

Yeah, this is not the time to admire your boyfriend.

A heavy sigh escapes you, “Can’t you just shove your tongue down my throat or vice versa until dawn?”  

Phainon suppresses a snort. He caresses your face. “Tempting, but no. Not now. Honey, you clearly have something on your mind.” 

You pout, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But you’re not feeling like yourself, and that breaks my heart,” he admits. His thumb slowly rubs your skin. “For the past few days or so, you haven’t acting like you usually do. I apologize that I only took action now in spite of me already realizing what was happening that early, but you were always gone and I assumed that these were just mere inconveniences that would easily go away, but clearly it did not. Now that we’re free, I—”

Already aware of where he is heading to, you sigh again, “Don’t feel guilty. These are my issues, Phainon.”

“I know.” Phainon dips his head down, refusing to meet your gaze, and the organ in your chest sinks at the sight. “But I can’t really help it.”

Your boyfriend is wonderful. Yes, this is now the time to admire your boyfriend, because he’s just so kind, so wonderful, so thoughtful—and this may be an exaggeration, but he honestly deserves the world. He deserves all the good things from all the shit he has gone through. You’ve seen how he shattered and how he picked himself back up, and a part of you doesn’t really want him to bear the challenges you face, especially when he had been through so much that was perhaps a hundred times worse.

But he’s stubborn. Very much so. He huffs, “We’re not kissing again, not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

You stare at him, with wide eyes and parted lips. Did he just- oh. He’s serious. Determination emanates from him, and by the way, it’s still so hot, yet you can’t believe what you’ve just heard. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Phainon says, and a bit of anguish reveals itself. “And this pains me more as much as it pains you because you look so beautiful underneath me I really want to ravish you until dawn. But taking care of you comes first, and I want to remind you that I’m your boyfriend, and you can tell me everything.”

“Phainon, you ravishing me until dawn is already taking care of me, to be honest.”

He gasps, “Not today, you deceiver! That won’t work on me! Now, open up!”

Your mouth quirks up. Okay. You should have a little fun with this, then. “My mouth so I can suc—”

“Noooo! Honey, come on! Don’t do this!!”

As Phainon continues to whine from above you, you can’t help but snicker. Oh. Your stupid tears are welling up again, and sooner or later, you would break your own rule of not wanting to burden Phainon.

But is it really so bad?

He is your boyfriend, after all. And if he had problems of his own, you'd want to know, too.

His arms cage on both sides of your head, and man, he really is so hot. You definitely did not zoom in on his biceps.

Going back, what is happening now? Ah, yes. Phainon’s currently admonishing you about your strategy of sweeping him by the feet ( metaphorically, because you physically cannot carry him or else you’d get squashed — though that seems like a fortunate way to ascend to the heavens to be honest ), before claiming that it will be futile starting this second since he has caught on.

“Do you really not want to share it with me?” He asks, with his lips pursed. And with a small voice, he asks again, “Do. . . do you not trust me?”

You pinch the side of his eye glasses, before taking it off.  “That’s not it.” He makes no sound, and merely waits for your next move. “That’s not it at all, Phainon.”

“Then, help me understand?” Phainon shortens the distance between the two of you. His hold on you tightens, and you sense his anxiety. And this is really what you had want to avoid all along. “Please?”

“Phainon.”

“. . .”

He does not say anything anymore, and you just know that he really is serious. Wanting to calm his nerves, you give him a soft smile. “Okay. Though you have to promise me that once I let it out, you’ll have to commit to what you just said earlier.”

Phainon tilts his head. “Which is?” “You ravishing me until dawn.”

He explodes in a darker red. The white-haired man on top of you sputters, “You’re still onto that!? Honey!”

“Are you not?” “Well, yes, I am–but—mmph!”

You just kiss him again.

Maybe it really is not so bad to share your troubles with Phainon. This is just how it works, doesn’t it? It’s better to be honest now instead of keeping it all in.

When you pull away, Phainon’s a bit dazed, and you chuckle.

“We have a deal, then.”

( You do make a mental note to not overshare everything though. You just hope Phainon won't delve too much into the inconsistencies and holes in your story.

However, spoiler alert: Phainon is really perceptive for your own good, so consider this a failure. )