An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: General Audiences
Category: F/M
Relationships: Gale & OC Tav
Words: A LOT (7261)
Tags/Warnings: OC Backstory No One Else Cares About, Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Flirting, Nudity, Skinny Dipping, Sensuality, Kisses, Minor Blood and Injury, Introspection, Gale Gets A Darcy Moment, NOT A BOT I JUST LOVE EM DASHES OKAY JESUS
Contains non-explicit physical intimacy and light references to past suicidal thoughts. A celebration of ripped Gale, silver fox Gale, heterochromatic Gale
And typos, probably. I always see them too late.
Summary:
As Tavania reckons with her past and the idea of moving on from her intense loss, a chance midnight encounter with Gale leads them to a place of honest discussion and unguarded closeness-of the physical and emotional variety. As they stand at the brink of becoming something far more, Tav finds herself falling--but Gale still harbours dark secrets that threaten to tear it all apart.
AKA non-Origin Gale gets to touch an Act 1 boob maybe?
I'm posting it here in its entirety for people who might prefer to read on Tumblr, BUT IT'S LONG Y'ALL. UNFURL THE POST AT YOUR PERIL.
and she never wrote anything ever again.
For the third night in a row, Tavania could not sleep.
Every rock beneath her flimsy bedroll might as well have been a boulder—every blade of grass a longsword, piercing her through. Even her skin felt irritated—not exactly feverish, but hot and tingly, like when she was little and her brother used to amuse himself by grabbing her arm and twisting her skin in both directions until she cried out. Given the circumstances, it was hard not to think back on Gale's graphic descriptions of ceremorphosis, all splitting skin and elongation, and wonder if this was finally it.
You're being ridiculous, she told herself. If she was changing, Lae'zel would already be upon her, knife at the ready, boot on her neck. No; this agitation was wholly her own.
She glanced at Gale's tent. The flap was open so she could see him inside, seemingly fast asleep, an occasional soft snore and unintelligible murmur rising from him. A pang of longing precipitated a mad urge to join him. She pictured herself pressed up against his back, arms around his middle as she buried her face into his hair to drown in the sweet, smoky musk of him… How swiftly rest would find her there, she thought. How happily.
Sighing, Tav rolled onto her back to stare up at the cloudless sky. By the hang of the bright, full moon, she guessed that dawn was still several hours away—too many to spend wallowing in her various frustrations. A walk, she decided, kicking out of the thin blanket tangled about her knees; a quick stroll would burn off some nervous energy and help clear her head.
If only it were that easy.
She slipped from camp, crossed the stream and followed its winding shore, skirting the denser parts of the forest. Ever since she was little, the very idea of the woods had terrified her. Too many storybooks full of bandits and goblins, ravenous wolves and child-eating hags, she supposed. Having faced down all those things and more in the last tenday alone, it seemed a silly thing to be afraid of now. Besides, if life had taught her anything, it was that the worst things that could happen to a person often occurred in places they thought themselves most safe: their homes, their beds—inside their own hearts and minds. What was a common hag next to those, most intimate of betrayals?
Still—one could never be too careful.
The stream eventually widened into a small lake that spilled in a misty froth over a crag into the wild river several dozen feet below. Not yet ready to return, Tav followed the cliff edge up out of the forest hollow to a desolate granite bluff high above the treeline. The climb turned out to be much steeper than it had looked from the ground, and the humid night air was as tepid as a cup of forgotten tea, so by the time she reached the ledge she was panting, dripping with sweat, and her legs had gone to jelly.
Tav stood at the edge of the bluff while she caught her breath and was surprised to see how far she had come. All she could make out of the camp from here was a few errant slivers of orange glow, flickering through the forest shroud. On the livid horizon several leagues beyond, the twisted hulk of the rotting nautiloid loomed, its cursed bowels still smouldering more than a tenday after the crash. As they headed up into the mountains in search of Lae'zel's fabled creche—a lead Tav had little reason to believe would bear fruit—she wondered grimly if they would ever escape the wretched thing's monstrous shadow.
She closed her eyes, putting it out of her mind.
Midnight stillness pressed in around her. The silence was uncanny—so thick, even the rush of the river could not penetrate it. A feeling of unease crept along her spine, of trespass, as if in her rush to escape her troubles she had accidentally slipped somewhere she should not be. A place between worlds, not meant for anyone.
Not the living, anyway.
It was not an altogether new sensation. Time and again over the years, at the lowest points of her life, she had found herself here: poised precariously on the edge of some great precipice or another, gazing deep into the face of grim oblivion. One foot in the warm, pulsing present. The other—
The breeze pushed against her back. Tav stretched out her arms and began to unconsciously lean forward. A dizzying sense of lightness swept over her. Calm; pleasant, almost. One good gust and she would be gone.
There was a time, not so very long ago, she would have welcomed it. Not out of despair, exactly, but something more like fatigue—need of a decisive push from some power greater than herself, toward a freedom she did not have the strength to reach for on her own.
The difference was that now, she knew how it felt to fall. It was not what she had always imagined—a wild, liberating plunge into nothingness. No; it was horror, and helplessness. A grand unravelling, time stretched thin to reveal its insides, which contained only regret. Not a single, clean moment of it but a turbulent flood seething with life’s debris. Every chance not taken, every song unsung. No absolution waited at flight’s end—only a bloody exclamation point, rammed violently into the middle of a sentence not yet finished.
The impulse was no longer there. In its place, she found the blunt ache of something far more terrifying:
Hope.
Tav’s eyes snapped open. As she took a gasping leap back from the rocky edge, another realisation hit her, a bolt of the most exquisite agony exploding beneath her ribs: she had not thought of her sister in days. Not since the assault on the goblin camp, their first dashed hopes for a cure, the party, and—
Gale.
So consumed with the business of living, she had had no time for the dead.
All her life, no matter where she was, how much time or distance or twist of circumstance separated them, Tav had never gone a day without thinking of her twin. Long before she was a wound, Lavinia was a lifeline, the pair of them so deeply tangled up in one another, it was impossible to tease them apart. The end, when it came—sudden, brutal, final—left a gaping hole; a hollow space where Tav’s second heart used to beat.
She had tried to fill that space with her sister's memory, holding on to whatever she could like a cherished song, stitching the tatters of her own life around the rhythm of the loss.
But Tav should have known better. She should have known that a song could not be caged, any more than a memory could be made to endure, and both could eventually turn sour.
But what if she kept forgetting?
What if the days she did not think of Lavinia began to outweigh the ones she did?
What would be left of her?
What if she dared to let herself feel something other than her grief?
What if she already had?
You're allowed to have a life, some other, treacherous part of her mind interjected. Haven't you punished yourself enough?
Tav sucked in a wet, trembling breath. Guilt was a difficult lesson to unlearn; moving on was just a different kind of loss.
She remained a while longer, watching the spill of Selune's Tears turn overhead in a sleepy echo of her own. When she finally set off for home, sorrow and slumber dragged on her limbs, leaving her leaden and off-balance. Halfway down the craggy slope, her foot struck loose granite, shifting and giving way beneath her. Tav fell hard on her left side and slid, jerking to an eventual stop at the brink of the sheer drop into the roiling river below.
It took a moment to register that she had stopped sliding. That she was still alive. She lay a there, breathing in ragged gasps, until the pain caught up with her, dull crimson waves rushing up her left side.
Groaning, she pushed herself upright, held her arm toward the moonlight and peeled away her tattered sleeve with a trembling hand to reveal a raw graze that stretched all the way from wrist to elbow. Blood oozed to the surface in bright, wet jewels.
“Shit,” she whimpered.
As she struggled to her feet, the hazy throb sharpened into searing white blades that stabbed her in the hip and knee with every step. Involuntary sobs slipped from her throat as she limped on, wishing even one of her friends were here with her.
Shadowheart, with a timely healing spell.
Wyll, with a sturdy shoulder to lean on.
Karlach, with a rousing 'C'mon, soldier! Knees up!' for encouragement.
Gale, with a tender touch, that charming smile, a story spun in golden tones to help her forget her pain…
Oh, Gale…
You don't need them, she told herself, wiping her wet cheeks with a filthy hand.
No. She didn’t need them. She could make it on her own, as she always had.
But wouldn't it be nice? To not have to fight so hard for every inch? To have someone to laugh or commiserate with? Someone to catch her when she inevitably fell again? Just because she could manage on her own did not mean she needed to.
The contrarian within made no reply.
Back on level ground, Tavania hobbled to the lake’s edge and lowered herself with a grimace, her swelling knee protesting every inch of the way. She dipped her arm, hissing at the sting, but once the initial shock subsided, found the water was pleasantly warm and soothing. Inviting, even.
It was late.
She should get back, take a potion, get some rest.
Instead, she began tugging off her boots. Peeled off her bloodied blouse. Trousers next. With her hands poised at her hips, she hesitated, scanning the tree line, half-expecting a bugbear to come charging out of the shadows—her luck would run that way. But the woods remained still and so, with a laugh, she slipped her underwear down and left the whole lot in a heap upon the shore, wading out until she was hip-deep. There, she sank, stretching out her legs to let the water carry their weight, and leaned back on her elbows. She dipped below the glossy surface, washing the dirt and sweat from her hair in a single breath.
Relief was immediate and complete.
Moments of calm like this had become such a rarity. She was not made for all this…adventure, as the others so frivolously called it; horror was the word she would choose. The things she had seen this week; the things she had done. The things she feared she would need to do if she was to survive this…
It was little wonder she could not sleep.
Each night when she sat down to the evening meal, all she could taste was blood and brimstone. She would chew and swallow in silence, forcing it down without betraying her distaste to the others, all the while wondering: Why her?
What was she next to a fierce githyanki warrior; the Blade of Frontiers; a veteran of the Hells; or the archmage of Waterdeep?
Just a stray witch and musician long without a vital muse. A scrap of worthless by-catch tangled in a net full of far more valuable prizes. Every time she was forced to raise her hands and reach for that murky well of untamed power inside of her, it felt like reciting a prayer in a foreign tongue to a god whose name she did not know, hoping that her graceless fumbling would not be mistaken for blasphemy.
Admittedly, Gale's instruction had been helping. The somatic gestures he had her practice as they walked provided her with much-needed focus, and she could feel them beginning to settle into her bones. In some ways, it was like breaking in a new instrument: painful and stilted for the first while, but then one day, the hands simply knew what to do.
Tav winced, that uncomfortable tightness from earlier returning, twisting its way inside of her thoughts as they gathered predictably around him, and more specifically, their would-be kiss.
A ripe piece of stupidity on her part. Impulsive. Destructive. So like her. Tav wished she could take it back, forget the feel of his satiny lips and breathless need, the roughness of his beard and the hungry fumble of phantom hands… Gods. It had not even happened, yet it haunted her more vividly than some of her actual memories. Even now, as she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was his thumb tracing slow, yearning circles along her hip and not her own.
That night, he had left her without any real explanation—only half-mumbled apologies. Things had felt…different since, in a way that transcended simple embarrassment. Outwardly, they had carried on as if it never happened—which it technically hadn’t, no matter how lurid her daydreaming—but subtle cracks had sprung up between them. The way his eyes often avoided meeting hers, and the distance in them when they did, as if his mind were miles away. The careful stiffness of his speech, as if he had wound himself back to the day they met, that polished version of himself—polite, but not completely honest.
A guardedness she knew all too well.
“Cheer up, old girl,” she said, lifting a hand to watch the water rain down her arm. “Could be dead tomorrow, and all this fretting will be for nothing.”
A sound tore through the stillness: the snapping of a twig in the woods somewhere behind her.
Heart hammering, Tav surged to her feet. White-hot pain lanced up her leg, but she barely registered it, her body operating on instinct. With no blade and no armour, she turned instead to flame. Magic surged through her, fierce and primal, but she caught it on her fingertips, dancing through movements Gale had taught her, graceful and sure. The fire burst to life, bright, ready. As was she, drawing back her arm on a held her breath, poised to strike.
A flicker of silver at the treeline caught her eye. A figure, tall and slender, ducking behind the trunk of an ancient cedar.
“Astarion!” she called, instantly vexed by his intrusion. “I see you!”
A hand shot out from behind the oak, the long, elegant fingers gilded in familiar rings. A voice followed, yelling, “Easy! It’s only—” He paused. “Wait—Astarion?”
“Gale?”
Tav’s stomach dropped. What in the hells was he doing here? Had she…summoned him, somehow? In her mindless yearning, had she perhaps accidentally whispered his name too loudly into the Weave? Was that…could that even happen? Gods—what if she had projected something? Again.
“Yes, Gale! You were expecting Astarion?” he cried, his voice pitching high and then cracking apart like skim ice beneath the heel of the other man's name.
“I wasn't expecting anyone,” she snapped. The fireball flared, casting wild shadows across the trees as the heat licked down her arm. “But if anyone was going to be skulking about at this hour like a woodlands pervert—”
“Not skulking! Approaching! Very cautiously, I might add! Speaking of which, would you mind, terribly, putting that out? I would do it myself, but fear that would be awfully nude—rude! I meant rude!”
Tavania blinked.
“Oh, gods!” she yelped, dropping like a stone into the water with a splash, a sizzle and a grey curl of steam.
“Much obliged!” Gale waved again. “I’ll just—turn around and be on my way!”
“Wait—!” She arranged herself into a modest crouch, arms folded over her naked breasts and released a resigned sigh. “You might as well come over here.”
Crickets chirped. An owl hooted. Water burbled apathetically over the rocks.
“…Are you certain?”
“No,” Tav barked, her cheeks burning, “but you’re already here, and I’m already mortified, so—yes. Unless you'd rather summon the entire Sword Coast with our shouting?”
“No! No…” Gale poked his head out from behind the tree—only far enough to reappraise the situation. “Very well. I'm coming over—I shall avert my eyes!” he announced, then extended one long leg from his hiding place. “Here I come, ready or—well, just ready, I hope!”
She dipped her head, snorting a laugh into the crook of her elbow and muttered, with glowing affection, “Idiot.”
True to his word, Gale kept his eyes fixed with studious intent on the ground for the entirety of his theatrical passage, coming to an eventual halt beside her pile of clothing. Her underwear sat on top like a flag of surrender—practically waving at him. Tav bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a sound—half laugh, half whimper; altogether a nightmare.
Gale rocked stiffly on his heels, arms folded so tightly across his chest, he looked as though he might vanish into himself.
“What are you doing here, Gale?”
“Looking for you, of course,” he replied, brows twitching together as if he did not understand the question—why it needed asking.
He drew a short breath before elaborating.
“I woke and saw your bedroll was empty. At first, I presumed you'd gone to relieve yourself, or some such. When you didn't return in a timely fashion, I…well.” Gale hesitated. When he spoke again, his voice bore all the weight and frailty of a grave confession. “I was worried.”
Tav looked away.
Of course he was worried. From the moment they’d met, just a fortnight ago—though it felt like far longer—he had been watching out for her. Not always in loud or obnoxious ways, but with a simple and steady presence he wove around her like a magical armour. A healing potion, pushed into her hand before she could ask; a soft word to bind her together when her nerves or temper threatened to fray her all apart. Always hot on her heels whenever she hurled herself into danger, his concern for her safety often eclipsing any thought for his own. Always loitering at her side after a fight, helping her to her feet when she needed it, steadying her, making sure she was still whole.
Kindness like his had always made her wary; in her experience, it never came without cost. Gale’s did. Not once had he demanded anything from her. When he had asked for help, it was with open heart and open hands, without guile or expectation; she had been all too happy to give him what he needed.
She was willing to give him a great deal, as it turned out.
Now here he was, trembling nervously in the dark because she had gone missing, and he had noticed. And she had nearly set him on fire for his troubles.
“I couldn’t sleep. Decided to take a walk,” she said, guilt twisting keenly in her gut. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long, I’m sorry. For worrying you—and for almost fireballing you.”
“I'm merely relieved you're all right.” He glanced up, smiling so warmly it made her shiver.
“It was an impressive fireball, by the way,” he added as an aside. “A little…enthusiastic, toward the end, but you held onto it expertly and your form was—well. Exquisite.” He paused. “Not that I was admiring your…form, or…” He trailed off into a timid, almost silent whine.
A smirk tugged at her lip, more delight than embarrassment; she knew he would not offer such praise lightly. Whatever else he may or may not have noticed in the course, she opted not to address.
“You're an excellent teacher.”
“I know,” he murmured, absently prodding the sand with the toe of his boot. Then, almost to himself: “Though you’re the first to say so.”
An easy hush fell over them. Tav’s knee began to ache again, and she was about to say something when Gale lifted his head and glanced around.
“Lovely spot, this.”
“Yes.”
“How is the water? I must say, it looks…”
He turned back, his gaze locking onto hers—sharp, steady. In the moonlight, she caught the quick bob of his throat as he swallowed.
“…rather enticing.”
Heat flushed through her, from her scalp down to her toes. The way he looked at her now, clear and unflinching, was precisely how she had hoped he might after their magical kiss. The look of a man who knew exactly what he wanted: to be here. With her.
If only she would ask.
The words slipped from her lips, barely louder than a whisper. “Come see for yourself.”
A slow smile spread across his face as he raised a hand to his shoulder and the three toggles that secured the front of his robe. His eyes never left hers as he painstakingly worked the first two loose. At the third, he faltered. “Forgive me, but would you mind…?” With his free hand, he made a small circle.
“Hardly seems fair,” Tav said with a mock pout, “but fine—I'll even close my eyes.”
A chuckle followed her as she turned awkwardly in place—more of a waddle, really—though she was not sure why she was still concerned with her own modesty when it was clear he had seen…well, enough.
From behind her came the rustle of falling fabrics, the unsnapping of boot buckles. A muttered 'Bollocks!' and then the crunch of gravelly sand.
“Stuck, wizard?” she teased. ”Need a hand?”
“Hah! Never living that down, am I?” he replied. “I think I've quite enough, thank you…for now.”
Tavania smiled and shook her head, a rosy fondness unfolding within her. This was what she had missed these past days of fracture—his lopsided charm, playfulness, his endearing fumbling. The way things were when it was just the two of them, without pretense or pressure to perform.
Her smile faltered—maybe that was the thing that most unsettled her, keeping her awake at night: how easy it was to miss him.
A splash at the shore broke her meditation, followed by a subtle pull in her blood, like the tugging of a loose thread, and a tingling at the nape of her neck. Magic; he was casting something. Curious, Tav cracked one eye open in time to see a handful of pale blue lights scatter like marbles across the bed of the lake, illuminating the depths in a fuzzy, dreamlike glow. Then Gale, diving into the water after them. The light clung to him, shimmering over his bare skin like a divine blessing as his body cut through the water with effortless grace, muscles rippling in a symphony of strength and radiance. For just a moment, she did not see a mortal man, but a godly being stitched together from ancient threads, older and more elemental than time itself. Every line, every muscle, every glorious inch of him woven out of raw, living magic—awe and power incarnate.
Tav forgot how to breathe.
She had never seen a more beautiful man in all her life.
He surfaced with a gasp in the inky heart of the lake, then rolled onto his back with a satisfied sigh, arms flung wide. There he drifted, his hair fanned out around him in a silver crown. As he stared serenely up at the starry sky, moonlight caressed his face with the delicate reverence of a lover’s hand, and Tav felt another pang, her longing this time envious, wishing she were the moon.
She smiled, unable to help herself; he looked so utterly content.
That was the puzzle of Gale of Waterdeep. He was all charm and warmth, quick with a quip to ease the tension or cast light on an otherwise dim moment—but his levity rarely tarried. Over his carefully curated exterior lay an untold sorrow, worn like a threadbare cloak. It suited him, in a way—the thoughtful furrow etched permanently between his brows lent him a sort of scholarly gravitas—but it made her heart ache. Tav did not know yet the exact shape of his burdens, only that it resonated deeply within her. On her coldest days, she selfishly wanted nothing more than to lift the corner of his grey shawl, crawl inside and hold him so that they might find some warmth together.
“You look quite in your element,” she called to him, grimacing as she finally relented, unfolding her limbs and easing back into a comfortable recline. “I didn't realise the ‘of Waterdeep’ was so literal.”
Gale laughed. “A mere stroke of serendipity. Though I do love to swim. It's the closest thing in this mortal plane to experiencing the freedom and lightness of true ethereal delight.”
He stilled as he said this, his tone shifting into wistful lament, as if floating in bleak pool of memory. The moment passed swiftly as the blinking away of a tear. With a splash, he rolled over onto his side and began to swim toward her.
“My tower in Waterdeep overlooks the sea, which is terribly convenient,” he continued, stopping to tread water at the edge of the shallows. “No better way to begin the day than with a cold plunge, in my estimation. Thoroughly invigorating—for body and mind.”
Tav tried to picture it. Gale, rising with the dawn, the salt breeze tugging through his hair as he dove from his tower steps—but her own memories of that city, blurred by time and shrouded in youthful regret, muddied the waters. She backed away.
“Sounds lovely,” she said, a bittersweet taste remaining on her tongue.
“Perhaps, someday, I can show you what I mean.”
Their eyes met briefly. There was something so fragile about it, hopeful and hurting all at once. Possibility cobbled together from wisps of nothing: vivid enough to almost be convincing, but ephemeral and formless. Another well-crafted illusion.
Gale shattered it with an abrupt clearing of his throat. “What about you? Do you swim?”
“I grew up a ways inland—more than day’s walk east of Baldur’s Gate,” she said, now watching her fingers make swirls across the surface of the water. “There was the river nearby, but we were forbidden from going near it; three children were swept away in a storm surge the summer Lavinia and I turned two.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. “My—how awful.”
Tavania nodded. “Two of them were our closest neighbours; the older boy was friends with my brother. He could easily have gone with them that day had my father not needed help fixing fences. I think that made it worse for my mother—that pervasive nag of might-have-been made her a little crazy, which I suppose in turn instilled a lasting fear in me. That’s the way of things in a village as small as ours was. Even a small incident resonates. A tragedy like that, it…alters the rhythm of everything irrevocably.” She stilled her fingers, watched the last of the ripples ebb. “Can feel almost like…like a curse…”
Gale said nothing, and she was grateful for his restraint. The churn of falling water filled the silence.
“I do love the sea, though—from a distance,” she continued, more brightly. “I could sit beside it for hours and just watch the colours shift, squall clouds gather...There’s a certain romance to it, don’t you agree?”
“Completely.”
“And seafaring tales are some of my favourites,” Tav went on. “Gandorra Burr’s Fifty Years at Sea—have you read it?”
“The second volume only,” Gale replied, almost apologetic. “Ironically, I found it a little dry.”
She snorted. “Fair. Though the sparseness of the text added to the experience for me, compounding the dread and desolation. Her description of the Whalebones, for instance: there’s something innately chilling about a natural graveyard, and the matter-of-fact way she described those monstrous bleached ribs jutting up out of the black sand was just so…doleful. Haunting. I think that’s the true appeal for me. Romance, yes, but there is an inherent sense of tragedy about the sea. The loneliness and enormity of it feels quite…otherworldly.”
This time when he did not speak, she risked a sidelong glance and found him simply watching her, smiling dreamily, his eyes shining with a doting interest that was completely disarming.
Dangerous, indeed.
“Perhaps I need to revisit it,” he ventured, scratching his beard. “Or better yet—hear it read aloud by a talented bard with a gift for finding the poetry in bones.”
Tavania laughed. “If we stumble on a copy, I’ll happily read you to sleep, wizard.”
“I’ll begin the search at once.”
She bit down on her lip, blushing. “To answer your actual question…” Tav lifted one leg out of the water and wiggled her dripping toes. “This is as deep as I go.”
Gale’s expression shifted—a certain tilt of his head, a new glint in his eye that fell just shy of mischief. The spark of an idea. He planted his feet and rose in the chest-deep water, holding out a hand.
“Come here.”
Tav blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“Come here,” he repeated, beckoning her this time with his spellbinding fingers, his many rings of gold and silver playing in the moonlight. Then, as if remembering himself, he lifted his other hand to shield his eyes. “Ah—apologies!”
“I think we’re a little beyond that, don’t you?”
He hummed, his smile turning luminous and sly. “True. One can’t always be a gentleman.”
Gale let his hand fall away and he watched her, keenly, as she stood and made her measured way to him. If he noticed the faint limp in her stride, he gave no sign. Merely waited, mute, his hand outstretched and lips slightly parted as he drank her in with something close to wonder, studying her as if she were some rare beauty he could not grasp the meaning of—but would gladly spend the rest of his life in the rigorous pursuit.
By the time she reached him, every inch of her was aflame, and when she slid her hand into his, she felt the same spark she had the very first time they touched, the day she pulled him from that rock. Then, she had dismissed it as magical interference; now, there was nothing else between them but a few scant inches of cold lake, and something far deeper as well. Undefinable. Inevitable.
“Exquisite,” he murmured—so absently, she was not sure he was aware he said anything.
The heat in his gaze was suddenly too much to bear. With a nervous laugh, Tavania looked away—down, to his chest, its vital rise and fall, and the ominous circle of flame branded into the flesh over his heart. The black tendrils that curled up his throat had long intrigued her; she suspected them connected to his mysterious affliction, but the rest he had always kept carefully concealed. Seeing it now, a thing of uncommon elegance laid bare by moonlight, a storm gathered inside her. Sympathy, curiosity, desire…
A bloom of quiet dread.
“Is this”—a breath quivered from him—“all right?”
Tav glanced up, catching his eyes. One, a rich and velvety brown a person could get lost in forever; the other, silver as a frost-laden sky. Dusky tear stains tattooed the cheek below as if he once had wept all the colour out of it.
She was not sure if his question was meant for her, or for himself.
Summoning her most charming smile, flush with rosy light, she asked, “Are you going to teach me to swim, professor?”
With a snort, he said, “In good time,” as if time was a luxury they had in abundance. “For now, I offer merely a taste.”
“Of drowning?”
Gale frowned. “You wound me, my dear.” He sought her other hand beneath the water; his fingers were warm despite the chill. “I hope you know I’d never allow that to happen.”
That quiet ‘my dear’… A slip that sounded so natural, she suspected it was not the first time the words had occurred to him, even if he had never spoken them aloud. Her chest constricted. All she could say was, “I do.”
He smiled. “Are you ready?”
Without knowing precisely what he intended, she nodded; a stark realisation of trust. “Yes.”
“Any time you want to stop, you need only say the word,” he assured her as he began to walk slowly backward, the pull of their joined hands coaxing her deeper with him. “Be aware, there is a sudden drop.”
She nodded again, only half-listening, focused instead the water rising up her arms, her chest, floating her nerves with it. It was far colder here than it had been by the shore; Tav shivered as it lapped up to her collar bones. She her felt herself becoming more buoyant as it breached her shoulders, her footfalls feeling far less grounded in reality. Around them, Gale’s magical lights had dimmed into soft, pulsing pinpricks, drifting constellations that mirrored the stars. Suddenly, they were nothing more than two small, fragile bodies adrift in an ethereal sea of cosmic dark.
And then, on her next dizzying step, the ground vanished entirely.
Water surged up her neck, into her ears, her nose. She gasped in alarm and swallowed a mouthful. Coughed. Choked. Somehow in her flailing panic, she slipped free of Gale’s grip, losing him in a thrash of bubbles as she tried to claw her way back to the surface, but there was nothing to grab on to. Nothing above, nothing below. Only cold, uncaring darkness.
Instead of floating, she was falling.
Her thoughts splintered, half of her back aboard the burning nautiloid, its sinewy walls quivering in the hot rush of wind as it tore apart around her. The tadpole squirmed in her skull. She could not breathe. She was going to die. She was—
And then he was there. His arms wrapping tightly around her waist, lifting her up, his voice cutting through the roil of terror.
“I have you.”
Coughing, she threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him, shaking.
“I have you,” he said again, lips closer against her ear. “I have you.” Again. And again. Until she believed him.
“Don’t let go,” she rasped.
“I wouldn't dream of it.”
She believed him.
Safe in his arms, Tav let her body slacken. Shivering, sputtering, she breathed, matching the steady rise and fall of his chest, finding his rhythm to anchor herself. The cold and the dark remained, but soon she hardly noticed. All she felt was Gale: the warm glide of his bare skin against hers, the subtle shifting of his muscles and the push-pull of the water around her feet as he kicked gently to keep them both afloat.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, squeezing his arms around her. “This was a terrible idea. I’ll take us in.”
“Wait—” she said in a rush, clinging harder, desperate to hold on to this, to him, this precious moment.
He stilled beneath her.
“It wasn’t terrible. I don't know what happened, I just—” Tav exhaled. “Can we just…stay?”
Gale skated a hand up her back to cradle her neck, a warm and solid comfort. “Whatever you wish.”
The river current split and flowed on around them, and they drifted a little in its gentle course, Gale ever kicking to keep them steady. They began to turn in aimless circles, as if caught in the stream of a silent waltz. As the last vestiges of fear receded, Tav began to see the music in her mind: pretty waves of indigo tangled up in midnight blue, threaded through with silver strands against a canvas of star-soaked black. The song made its needful way to her throat, and without meaning to, she began to faintly hum.
“What is that?” he asked after a time. “I don’t recognise it.”
“No, it's…” Not know how else to describe it, she said simply, “Us.”
Gale let out a blissful sigh, resting her head against her temple.
Tav shifted her weight, a sudden sting breaking the spell; the music slipped away from her, leaving only a sharp yellow hiss of pain in its wake.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Tavania Starling,” Gale said sternly.
Rolling her eyes, she lifted her wounded arm from his shoulder for him to see.
“Hells, Tav!” he exclaimed at a glance. “That’s hardly nothing—it’s your whole bloody arm!”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted, an edge of irritation cutting in. “A graze, that’s all. Skin-deep.”
“Skin-deep! You’ve hardly any skin left at all! What happened?”
“I slipped like a clumsy fool coming down the bluff, that's all. Honestly—this”—Tav shook her arm at him—”hurts far less than you calling me by my full name in your grumpy wizard voice.”
“I don't have a—” He huffed, a splinter amusement in it, the rest pure exasperation. At least a little of it with himself for taking her bait.
“I may have also sprained my knee.”
“Mystra give me strength…” he grumbled, taking hold of her wrist for a closer look. He was careful, methodical. She suppressed a cringe as his thumb barely brushed the bitter edges of her wound.
“What’s the prognosis?”
“Quite dire, I’m afraid,” he said, solemn in tone if not in spirit. “And we once again find ourselves confronted with the glaring void in my otherwise formidable repertoire of expertise: the restorative arts.“
“Well, I had a good run,” she said with a shrug.
Gale tutted. “Not so fast, madam. I do happen to know of one very old technique, proven to help ease pain and hasten recovery, popular to this very day among certain wise practitioners of the gentler arts. If you would permit me to try it.”
She raised one eyebrow. “By all means, if you think it might help.”
Gale gently lifted her arm above the waterline, droplets trailing from her elbow as he leaned in, squinting in an exaggerated show of scrutiny. “Yes, I think—”
A soft kiss, just above her elbow.
“Any better?” he whispered, barely lifting his lips from her skin.
Tav swallowed a lump. “Still hurts…”
“I see.”
Another kiss, a touch higher than the last, lingering this time.
“Now?”
She did not answer. Couldn’t.
Gale continued, tracing a deliberate path up her arm with unbearable restraint. Each tender kiss sent a jolt through her—hot, electric, winding her up from the inside out. The fingers of her other hand flexed, digging into the taut muscle of his shoulder, eliciting from him a soft, aching sound; she was not sure if it was pain or pleasure—or both.
At last, he arrived at her wrist. There, he paused, just long enough for anticipation to coil itself around her throat, leaving her breathless. Gale turned her hand, pressing one final kiss into the centre of her palm. Longer. Deeper. His lips warm, his beard soft, his tongue a sweet whisper of heat falling into her heart line. As he moaned again, this one distinctly rapturous, she blearily wondered if he could still taste the scorch of magic on her skin.
He sighed her name, and she cupped his cheek to draw him closer; Gale obeyed, coming back to rest his forehead against hers.
“About the other night…”
Tav winced. “You don’t have to—”
“I have thought of little else for days,” he blurted, undeterred. “Only you. But I acquitted myself poorly—then and since. For that, I must apologise. I was…startled. It’s been a very long time since I was…close…to anyone…in that way,” he said, struggling even to say it, and she could feel his brows pulling into a frown. “In any way, really. Or for that matter, wanted to be.”
“Same,” she confessed in a small voice.
Gale pulled back to look at her, offered a smile that seemed to comfort them both. “To be perfectly clear—I do want to be close to you, Tavania. Very much so.”
A giddy laugh teased the back of her tongue. “We could scarcely be any closer.”
“Oh, I can think of a way or two.” His eyes narrowed, turning his smile wryly suggestive, and Tav felt herself flush again.
A familiar shadow fell over him, his shoulders drooping beneath its weight.
“But, I am…afraid…well, of many things,” he admitted. “A great many things, indeed. Chief among them: the sudden contraction of time.”
Gale barked out a humourless laugh.
“If someone had told me two weeks ago that I would find myself here—dumped unceremoniously in the wilds of southern Faerun, with a deadly parasite squirming in my skull, harried by deranged cultists hailing the coming of a new god”—he paused, his harsh tone softening into molten gold—”with the most magnificent, extraordinary woman I have ever met wrapped my arms…”
Tav nudged his shoulder lightly. “Charmer.”
He flashed a quick grin. “Suffice it to say, I would have declared it the ramblings of a madman—or the stuff of an overwrought, implausible bodice-ripper, replete with gross misrepresentations of my character.”
“True,” she agreed. “To my knowledge, you’re yet to rip a single bodice.”
“Yet…” Gale emphasised. “When it happens, you shall be the first to know.” He sighed then. “The timing of all of this, however, is—”
“I know.”
“—inopportune. To say the very least.”
What neither of them said loomed loud in the ensuing silence: This might be all the time we have.
Tav’s gaze was drawn again to the grim brand above his heart. Her hand slipped from his cheek, fingertips tracing the searing circle’s edge with a feather-light touch. Gale held perfectly still, failing even to breathe, and she thought she felt something stir beneath his skin—a faint pulse that did not belong to him. Something other. Something wrong. In her own blood, her magic thrummed like a struck chord and then…recoiled. As if even her wild and untamed power feared what lay within him.
Gale caught her fingers in a sudden vice grip and wrenched her hand away—too rough to be intentional. Guilt followed instantly; he brought her hand to his lips, kissing the backs of her fingers in trembling apology.
Tav gaped at him, a chill creeping through her that had nothing to do with the icy water.
The terror in his eyes just now…
“We should head back,” he said hoarsely.
She nodded.
With one arm still around her waist, Gale turned and swam them back toward the shallows from which they had drifted. Tav clung to him, numb, barely kicking her trailing feet. At last he slowed to a stop in the shallower water and set her down, making sure she had her feet fully beneath her before letting go.
They looked at one another. Tav saw the distance gathering, tendrils of creeping fog come to pull him away. She was losing him again.
Without thinking, she brought her hands to his face, pulled him closer as she leaned in, and kissed him. Softly. Briefly. Nothing at all like desperate, hungry the thing she had imagined nights ago.
But it was real.
And it was perfect.
Left as waypoint for him to find her by when he was ready. If he ever was.
Then she let him go, limping the rest of the way to the shore on her own.
It's our HC - mine and my friends watching me drawing those - that Odysseus composed Most of Epic the musical while he was in Calypso Island (seven years are a lot), and the "All I hear are screams" he said to Calypso that day was because he was struggling for it.
Sorry. Needed to be done.
Sorry, it's something silly but i hope you like it anyway.
Remember that Penelope, Poseidon and Ody designs are from @neal-illustrator!
and that ofc Epic the musical is from Jorge Rivera-Herrans.
Genre: Exes to lovers, second chance love, fluff, smut
Summary: Even a year after your divorce, you can't get over Chris. You keep seeing him all the time because you're co parenting your daughter, and you see that he's still the same man you fell in love with. And you both haven't moved on at all.
It’s late. Your apartment is silent except for the hum of the refrigerator, as you sit on the sofa, nursing a glass of wine when you hear the doorbell.
You find Chris on your doorstep, punctual as usual, holding your toddler, Mia, against his chest, her small body curled into him like she’s still a newborn.
Your heart does a funny little lurch. It must be the wine. Definitely the wine.
“She fell asleep in the car,” he whispers, stepping inside. He is still dressed in his formals, and your traitorous eyes drink him in.
“Rough day?” he asks softly, noting the wine and the way your shoulders sag.
“Something like that,” you mutter, gesturing to Mia’s room. “You can put her to bed.”
Chris nods, carrying her toward her bedroom. He emerges moments later, quietly shutting her door behind him. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and a little too comforting.
“What happened?” he asks, folding his arms against his chest.
“It’s nothing,” you say, but Chris raises an eyebrow.
“Bullshit,” he counters smoothly, sitting next to you on the sofa. “You know you can't lie to me.”
You roll your eyes but relent and say, “Work politics. Same old garbage.”
Chris winces, before he leans forward and says, “You’re too good for them, you know that, right?”
Those are simple words, but they hit harder than they should. You glance at him, something raw flickering in your chest.
“Oh please,” you murmur, looking away.
“What?” He asks. “It’s true.”
You don’t answer, reaching instead for the bottle of wine. Chris doesn’t stop you as you pour a second glass.
“Here, celebrate my failures with me,” you tease, trying to ease your own heart. “I don't feel like wallowing in self pity alone tonight.”
He snorts, shaking his head, but takes the glass.
“You're so dramatic,”
“And yet, you were married to me for five years,” you quip, with a grin.
The wine loosen you both faster than it should. Soon, you’re reminiscing about Mia’s first words, and the road trip to Busan where the car broke down, and you ended up making out in the car till Minho came to rescue you both.
“I miss this,” you admit quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Talking...and everything,”
You and Chris had been good friends before you both fell in love. It had been the most beautiful years of your life before things started falling apart.
He doesn’t say anything, but reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. It’s subtle, but it sets your heart racing. Like always. Even a year after your divorce, you clearly haven't moved on.
“I miss it too,” he finally says, his voice low. “All the time.”
“Please don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” you mumble.
He leans in, closer than he’s been in a more than year, his dark eyes locked onto yours.
“You think I don’t mean it? You think I ever stopped wanting you?”
Your breath catches as he closes the distance between you. His lips hover inches from yours as he says, “I never stopped…”
It’s reckless, stupid, maybe even a mistake - but you don’t care. You let him close the gap, his lips crashing into yours, and everything you’ve been holding back spills over.
The kiss is messy and heated - all the pent-up frustration and longing coming crashing down. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you melt against him, your arms circling his neck. His lips move against yours desperately, like he is afraid to let go.
When you finally break apart, breathless and a little lost, Chris brushes a thumb over your cheek.
“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whisper.
“No. But it’s a start.”
It’s intoxicating - the feel of him, the heat radiating off his body. You both pull each other close again, his lips moving down your neck, leaving soft kisses.
But somewhere in between, reality raises its nagging head and you falter.
“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back slightly.
Chris freezes, his breathing ragged, as he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“This is… reckless,” you whisper, though your heart won't allow you to let go of him.
He exhales sharply, leaning back just enough to meet your gaze. “Y/N, I -”
“Don’t,” you interrupt, your voice trembling. “I don't want us to mess up again.”
He gives you a look and you think he might argue. But then he sighs. He looks exhausted and a little heart broken. But he stands up and says, “You’re right. We can’t… not like this.”
“You have to go.” You swallow hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you.
He stares at you for a long moment, then he nods.
“Right. I’ll… I’ll call tomorrow to check on Mia.” he says, clearing his throat.
You nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. Because this feels even harder than the first time.
“Goodnight, Chris.” you whisper.
“Goodnight,” he says, his voice rough.
As soon as he’s gone, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over. You sink onto the couch, your face in your hands, and you cry until your throat is raw. You missed him. And you still hate yourself for letting this happen.
It starts with a look. It always does.
The next time Chris comes by, it’s late again, Mia’s tiny backpack slung over his shoulder, and her hand clutching his tightly as they walk to your door. You try to play it cool, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed and a polite smile fixed on your face.
But then he looks at you and the air shifts.
“Hi,” he says, his voice lower than it needs to be, his gaze lingering on your mouth.
“Hi,” your voice shakes but it's soft.
Mia is already running into her room, way too excited to get to her new playset, and Chris watches her for a moment, before his gaze settles on you.
And then there are no words exchanged as his hands grab you towards him and he's pushing you against the kitchen counter, kissing you.
You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand slips down your back, cupping your butt before pulling you flush against himself.
“Is this going to keep happening?” you ask breathlessly, as he kisses down your neck. Past your collarbone. Down your chest. His face is buried in your breasts, before he kisses them over your t-shirt.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him, and you gasp as he bites your nipple over the fabric and a dull pleasure courses through your body.
“What?” he murmurs, his lips back on yours again.
“This,” you say between kisses.
He kisses you again, rougher than before and says,
“Tell me to stop,” he says, and his hands cup your cheeks, gazing into your eyes.
You don’t. You can’t. Instead, you pull him closer, your bodies so familiar with each other.
It becomes a pattern after that. Anytime he comes over - whether he’s dropping off Mia or picking her up - it happens.
Sometimes it’s rushed and frantic, like the time he cornered you in the kitchen, your lips colliding as the coffee maker sputtered in the background. And other times, it’s slow and sweet. Especially when he knows you're a bit down or you're having a bad day.
You don’t talk about it. It’s easier to pretend this is just an outlet, a way to scratch the itch that never seems to fade.
You tell yourself this is only because he's the only man you've been with for so damn long. You two had married so young. You hate thinking about it.
So you don't. But deep down, you know it’s more than just sex. But you’re not ready to acknowledge it. Neither is he.
Friday evenings with Minho are sacred. He's your best friend, your big brother, your pillar of support. The one person who held you up during your separation from Chris. The only person who knows that you still loved him with everything in you.
Minho brings take out, you both talk, watch a movie, sometimes two. And fall asleep on each other because obviously, you both were the laziest besties in the world.
You've been trying to tell Chris to leave, but he is busy pounding into you. You stand with your hands grips the kitchen counter as he thrust into you from the back, his hands holding onto your hips tightly.
“He's gonna be here any minute!” You hiss, and Chris moves faster, and more rough. You try not to moan as waves of pleasure hit you, and you clench so hard around him, he's shuddering with his release.
“Fuck-” He groans, pressing his face against the back of your neck before slowly pulling out of you.
You both clean up and look somewhat presentable when the doorbell rings. You sigh because Minho will see right through you.
And he won't let you live this down. Ever.
You glance at Chris before opening the door. And Minho steps in already ranting about his day and he stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Chris.
Well that's a first - Minho being at a loss of words.
You freeze, your cheeks burning, while Chris awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Hi, Minho,” Chris says, giving him a quick nod.
Minho doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looks between the two of you, his lips twitching in amusement, before slowly smirking.
“Hey, Chris.” Then, he strolls further inside saying, “Don’t mind me. I'm just here for my niece.”
He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Chris standing there like a couple of teenagers caught doing something bad.
“I should, uh, get going,” he says, though he doesn’t move.
“Right, yeah,” you stammer, smoothing your hands over your skirt nervously.
“See you on Sunday,” he says, opening the door.
“See you,” you manage, your heart racing again, and Chris flashes you a smile before leaving.
The moment the door shuts, Minho reappears, a wicked grin plastered across his face.
“Soooo…”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting,” he says, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re clearly fucking Chris freaking Bang and you want me to not start?”
“Minho,” you warn, making a beeline for the living room, and he follows you with that menacing grin still in place.
“So, when exactly did this ‘we’re just co-parents’ arrangement turn into ‘we’re fuck buddies again’?”
“It’s not like that!” you protest, though your face feels like it’s on fire.
“Uh-huh.” He says, starting to plate up the food. “You two were totally not flushed and guilty. Try again.”
You bury your face in a throw pillow.
“Linooooo stopppp!! It’s complicated.” you whine.
“It always is with you two,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re like Ross and Rachel, except somehow more frustrating.”
You peek out from behind the pillow, glaring at him.
“We’re not -”
“Don’t even think about saying you’re not into him,” Minho interrupts, pointing his chopsticks at you. “I know you, Y/N.”
You open your mouth to argue but immediately close it, because he's stating the obvious and there is no real use of denying it.
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to jump your ex-husband, at least warn me so I can avoid walking into it.” Minho smirks, leaning back smugly.
You groan, throwing the pillow at him. He dodges it easily, laughing as you sink further into the couch, hands covering your face.
“Seriously, though,” he says after a moment, his tone softening. “Are you okay? I mean, this whole Chris thing… are you sure about this?”
You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know. I love him, Minho, and I swear I tried to move on…but, everytime I look at him…he's the same person I fell in love with. He's not a monster. He's a great father. He's a good friend. And.. and I don't even know why…” Your voice cracks a bit as you struggle with your thoughts. “Then we talked, and it’s like… like nothing’s changed. But everything has changed, and it’s so… messy.”
“Messy’s okay. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. Whether that’s with Chris or someone else.” he says softly. “If you're sure, then go for it.”
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to be honest with Chris. To let go of the pride and the fear and just… try again. Because God, you really want to.
Sunday arrives, and Mia is up early, ready for her day with her daddy. She even picks out her favorite toy to take along with her and insists on wearing the sparkly dress she knows Chris loves.
When Chris texts, you think it's to let you know that he's on his way. But it wasn't.
Chris: Hey, something came up. Can we reschedule Mia’s time for today?
You blink at it for a moment, heart sinking slightly. You don’t question it - life happens, after all. But Mia doesn’t take it as well.
“Daddy’s not coming?” she asks, her lower lip trembling and her little shoulders slump in disappointment.
You kneel down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
“No, sweetheart. He’s just busy today, but we’ll see him soon. How about we have a girls' day instead?”
She looks up at you with big tear filled eyes.
“Girls' day? With Mommy?” she asks, and you nod, pulling her into a tight hug.
“That’s right. Just you and me. Let’s make it special.” You say, kissing her cheek and getting on with it.
You spend the afternoon indulging in ice cream, shopping for new art supplies, and of course, toys. You also take her to an indoor play area that she loves, and by the time you get home, Mia is falling asleep in your arms.
You carry her to her room, tuck her into bed, and she’s out within minutes. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you step out of her room.
The apartment falls into a quiet, peaceful lull. You wash up quickly and sit in front of the TV, hoping to watch an episode of that show you've been trying to watch for a while now. It's not exactly easy with a toddler around.
But around fifteen minutes into the show, you hear the sound of the doorbell. You open the door, and there stands Chris, holding a small box in his hand.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low, as he meets your gaze. “I'm sorry about today. I brought her favorite cupcakes.”
Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him.
“That’s sweet of you.” you say, “But she's already asleep.”
“Oh…I was hoping to see her before....ah,” Chris says with a little sigh.
You give him a small, sympathetic shrug.
“It's okay, she can eat them tomorrow,” You say with a smile and step aside to let him in.
He nods, stepping inside and setting the box of cupcakes on the kitchen counter. There’s disappointment in his eyes and it stirs something deep inside you.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he says, and it feels like he’s apologizing for more than just missing his day with Mia.
“It’s really okay. Mia missed you, but we still had a good day. She was really happy.” you tell him.
Chris’s gaze lingers on you a moment too long before he says,“I feel like I keep letting you both down.”
“Chris, please don't say that,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “We know you’re doing your best. I know you’re trying.”
He nods, though he doesn't look completely convinced.
“So,” you say, trying to keep it light, “I’m about to have dinner… want to join me?”
It’s an innocent enough invitation. Casual. Polite. But the way he looks at you gives you an idea of what's about to happen next.
Chris takes a step forward, his hand gently cupping your cheek, and then his lips are on yours. The kiss deepens almost instantly and he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together.
You stifle a sob, and Chris is quickly pulling back to look at you, tipping your chin up to see you better.
“Baby, please don't-”
“I love you-”
There is a moment of silence - Chris's eyes soften as he watches the tears fall. You can't believe you just said that. But this whole thing was getting more and more difficult to manage. The constant need to be close to him. Waiting for the days he spent with Mia, just so you could see him.
And then he's kissing you again, mumbling a hundred ‘I love yous’ you against your lips, and the next thing you know, he's scooping you up in his arms and carrying you towards your bedroom.
He closes the door gently (so that it doesn't wake Mia), and places you on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you on the floor.
“Baby, I never stopped loving you. And there isn't a day where I don't regret letting you walk out of my life… we could've handled things better…and everytime I came here for Mia, I wished you would just ask me to stay. I selfishly wished that you wouldn't move on.” he says, his voice soft and his touch even softer as he placed his hands on your knees.
“I don't think I can ever love anyone like I love you. If you give me another chance, I promise I'll not let you down. I'll spend every day of the rest of my life proving to you that you're my everything… and I will be here for you, always.”
You nod and tears falling more rapidly now, and throw your arms around Chris's neck, and he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing against your neck as he holds you close.
“I love you, baby I'm sorry-” You cry, your arms tightening around him. “I didn't know what to do…the baby, the job, there was so much noise, and I wasn't well…I'm sorry I didn't see that you were suffering too-” you hiccup through your tears.
You feel his hand moving up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you.
“I know baby, I'm not mad. We were both suffering. We were both hurt. But we're here now.” Chris whispers.
“I love you, I want you back. Please don't leave me again-”
Chris kisses you again, stealing your breath away.
“No more crying over me ok?” He says with a soft smile. “I'm not going anywhere…I love you and Mia so much, I am going to be here-”
More kisses follow and you move back into the bed, and he follows, both of you pulling at each other's clothes.
He trails his lips down your neck, and it feels like the world outside your bedroom might as well not exist. His hands glide over your skin, gentle, but just as desperate.
You can feel the way he trembles against you, the way his breath catches as your hands move down his chest. And then when he slips inside, as gentle as ever, you can't help but cry, because as beautiful as the moment feels, you realize just how miserable you have been without him.
Chris moves slowly at first, and you close your eyes as the pleasure builds. He peppers so many kisses on your lips and neck, like he can't kiss you enough.
His fingers work on your clit as he moves, and soon your body shudders as your orgasm ripples through you. You moan softly, and it obviously has him crashing down too.
You don't let go, because truth be told, you're afraid he's going to leave. And tonight? You don't want him to. Actually, you don't want to see him walk out that door ever again.
And Chris isn't planning to, because he holds you just as tight, promising softly that he'll be here when you wake up in the morning. And you let your eyes fall shut, trusting him.
You both decide to take it slow, for Mia's sake.
Chris doesn’t officially move in, yet, but his presence is…undeniable. There are more of his things around the house, and more than anything else, it's the way Mia’s laughter grows louder every time he walks through the door. You’ve caught yourself smiling more too - wide, genuine smiles you hadn’t worn in ages.
You love watching him help Mia with her bedtime routine, fixing squeaky hinges around the house you’ve ignored for months, and finding every excuse to stay a bit longer.
And Minho? Well, he’s having the time of his life.
---
One Friday evening, you’re all gathered in the living room. Chris is helping Mia build a tower with her blocks while you sip wine and half-listen to Minho’s dramatic story about his latest “date gone wrong.”
“And then she said she didn’t like cats. Cats, Y/N. Can you imagine the nerve?” Minho says, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks as he digs into the takeout he insisted on bringing.
“Oh my God” you say, laughing as Chris adds, “Sounds horrible, but maybe try not to bring home every stray you find?”
“Don’t think I don’t see you trying to steal my best friend away. Again.” Minho narrows his eyes, pointing at Chris.
“Jealous, Minho?” Chris quips, and Minho scoffs, leaning back dramatically.
“Of you? Please.” Minho says. “But whatever this setup is, it's sure looks promising.”
You freeze mid-sip of your wine, while Chris raises an eyebrow.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.
“I’m just saying, for exes, you two sure look cozy.” Minho grins, and your cheeks burn, as you try not to look at Chris.
“Minho…” you warn.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m rooting for you,” Minho says, winking before turning back to Mia. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll adopt Mia. Because you two are idiots. And we're done dealing with you. Sorry, not sorry.”
Mia giggles at the mention of her name before getting back to her game.
---
Later that night, after Minho has left (eyeing you mischievously because Chris was still there) and Mia is asleep, you and Chris are clearing up the kitchen.
“You know,” he says, his voice low, “Minho isn’t wrong.”
“About what?” You ask, glancing at him, wiping your hands on a dish towel.
“About us. About this.” Chris says, leaning against the counter and folding his arms.
Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at him, watching him push off the counter and walk towards you.
The towel slips from your hands as his fingers brush against your cheek, and his lips land on yours.
It’s slow at first, warm and tender, but it doesn’t take long for it to snap and you're both pulling each other closer. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your body responding to his touch like it always has.
He pauses, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath.
“I love you,” he says, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.
“I love you too,” you admit, and he smiles, his dimples making an appearance and your heart races as you reach up to run your fingers over it.
He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second of it. And at that moment, this doesn't really feel like a second chance.
It’s the beginning of everything you’ve ever wanted.
The smell of pancakes fills the house as sunlight filters through the kitchen windows. Chris stands at the stove, a spatula in one hand, flipping golden-brown pancakes onto a plate. He’s wearing his usual gray shorts and a fitted black T-shirt. His hair is messy, a sign that he’s only been up for about twenty minutes, and he’s humming softly to himself as he works.
Mia sits at the table, still in her pajamas, happily coloring into a giant coloring book. This is such a dream. You lean against the counter, sipping your coffee, watching Chris with a faint smile that you haven’t been able to shake since he stayed over last night.
For the first time… in a very long time.
And then, the doorbell rings. You frown, setting down your coffee.
“Expecting someone?” He asks and you shake your head, walking to the door and opening it to find your mum standing there, a purse slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face.
“Mum?” you say, blinking in surprise.
“Surprise, sweetheart!” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Wanted to see my girls, and I brought muffins!”
She holds up a bakery bag, grinning, then stops dead in her tracks.
Her gaze falls on Chris, who’s just turned around from the stove, spatula still in hand, his expression frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
“Oh,” your mom says.
There's silence for a second before Mia screeches, “Grandmaaaaaaaa!!!”
Your mum picks Mia up, pressing a kiss to her cheek before asking if she could play in her room for sometime. Mia pouts, but runs off with a muffin.
Her eyes narrow slightly, taking in how casual Chris looks, his messy hair, and the way he just seems to be part of the scene.
“Good morning, mum,” Chris says smoothly, recovering faster than you could've thought.
He smiles, dimples flashing, as he asks, “Pancakes?”
Your mum raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying his innocent act. She folds her arms, looking at you.
“Y/N… what’s going on here?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” you start, suddenly feeling like a child again.
“Mhm.” She gives you a look that says she doesn’t believe you for a second. “You’re telling me it’s normal for your ex-husband to be in your kitchen, making pancakes, looking like he just rolled out of bed?”
“Technically, I did just roll out of bed,” Chris says, unable to resist.
You shoot him a glare, but he has already turned back to the stove, hiding a smirk.
“Y/N?” Your mom’s eyes narrow further.
“It’s… kind of...,” you say finally, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Yes?” she prompts, looking from you to Chris and then back at you. You think she's going to give you a nice big lecture about responsibility. But she lets out a sigh, her posture softening.
“You know,” she says, her tone gentler now, “I always thought the two of you were good for each other. When you got divorced, I was shocked and devastated - for you, for Mia.” She pauses, her eyes locking with yours. “But if you’re giving this another try… I just want to make sure you’re happy, sweetheart. That you’re doing this for the right reasons.”
“I know I messed up before. I know I hurt your daughter. But I love her. I always have, and I’m doing everything I can to show her - and Mia - that I’m here to stay. I realize that I need them more than they need me…so yeah,”
Your mum’s gaze softens as she studies him, and then she looks at you.
“And you, Y/N? Are you happy?”
You glance at Chris, who’s watching you with that steady loving gaze that’s always made you feel safe and sure, and you nod.
“Yeah, Mum. I am.”
Your mom smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Well, then. I suppose I’ll have to stick around for breakfast. Those pancakes smell amazing.”
Chris grins and gets back to work, and your mum nods, making her way in to properly greet her granddaughter again.
Just as she disappears, Chris slides up beside you, his hand brushing yours as you start setting the table for breakfast.
“That went better than expected,” he murmurs, his voice low.
“You’ve always been her favorite, you know.” You glance at him, your lips twitching into a smile.
He smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip a beat.
“Good to know I still am.” He pecks your lips quickly before getting back to work.
You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as your mum comes back with Mia in her arms. And you all sit around the table and enjoy breakfast.
It’s chaotic and imperfect, but it's home. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like everything is exactly where it’s meant to be. All the scattered pieces of you finally fit.
—(🎧)—> when your silly husband gets a little too festive for Christmas (but you love him though)
pairing - husband!dad!changbin ♥︎ fem!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1.4k
warnings: they have 3 kids. Somi - 9, Do-won - 7, and Nari, 5. unedited & fluffy asf!
series note : hello !! welcome to part three of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “ I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus!” by The Jackson 5. enjoy !!
If daddy had only seen, mommy kissing Santa Claus last night!
“You look ridiculous, baby.”
“What! I look fabulous.”
What were you taking about? The silly Santa costume that your husband, Changbin had randomly decided to buy on impulse while shopping.
The white, dusty beard was connected to his face by a single strap, the red felt of his outfit mixing well with his complexion. He looked so ridiculous, but so adorable at the same time.
“Nari is going to freak out when she sees you.” You giggle, walking closer to him and stroking his silky, faux beard. “Are you going to put the presents under the tree like this?”
He laughs at your question, bringing one of his warm hands over the one you have stroking his beard, placing it into his hand and kissing the back. “And what if I do?”
“Then Nari will really freak out.” You chuckle, removing you hand from his grasp you you can pick up the purse laying on your shared bag. “Cmon, let’s go get the rest of those presents.”
“W-Wait, let me change first.” He stutters, tips of ears turning red. “Why? I thought you wanted to wear it.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He blushes, moving to take the fake beard off. You smile at him, finding his reaction utterly adorable. It makes the marriage band he has around his ring even more valuable to you.
You can’t even put in into words how much of a great father he is.
He’s so caring, attentive, and so much more. Caring for your 5 year old, Nari, and coaxing her back to bed when she has nightmares, helping your middle child, Do-Won with his 2nd grade homework, giving advice to your eldest daughter, Somi. He did it all.
He takes amazing care of you too, cooking meals regularly, taking you out on a date every week, offering to pay for you to take a trip to the spa while he takes care of the kids. Even while working so hard as an idol, he always took the best care of you and your kids, and you love it.
◂—♥︎—▸
“Feels like we’ve been shopping forever.” You groan, sloppily following behind Changbin as he pushes along the full and heavy shopping cart, leading you with a lot more energy in his body than you have in yours.
“We’re almost finished, sugar. I just want to find a few more things for the kids.” He explains, peering down the doll aisle before turning in.
“Baby, I love you. But the cart is so full, people are going you’re shoplifting.” You rest your hands on your hips, pouting your lips out slightly as Changbin looks at you.
You can be pretty stubborn when you want to, but seeing the stupidly adorable pout on your husband’s face was doing things to you.
“But babyyyy,” he starts, whining. “I want to Christmas tree to be full underneath.”
You could positively melt at the look of his face, and he notices the falter of your stance, sighing defeatedly. “Finee.”
“Wait no, sorry. We can continue shopping, baby. I see it’s making you happy. I just don’t want them to spoiled.” He smiles at your defeat, looking back at the row of various doll clothes and accessories.
“They’re not going to be spoiled, honey. Trust me. Now which one of these glasses looks better with the dolls dress.”
◂—♥︎—▸
Your house couldn’t have been any more Christmas themed if you tried.
Lights all over the house, Christmas tree decorated to the brim with red and green ornaments (with assistance from 3 little helpers), holly and tinsel littered throughout. It was “Christmasified” to the brim, and you loved it.
Christmas held a special place in your heart, it was the day he had proposed to you after all.
It was a snow blizzard, just his luck. He had plans to take you out and propose to you somewhere on the water. A place where you can watch the snowflakes fall delicately on the surface like ballerinas on tippy toes.
Ever since then, the bitter cold season has always had a warm place in your heart, meaning things that the prickly hot of summer could never.
It means home, and you love that.
“We’re going to have to hide these until Christmas.” Changbin sighs as he looks around for an area to hide the colorfully decorated boxes bags from the kids view. “Jagi? Do you think under the bed will do?”
You take a peek underneath, seeing enough space to put all the presents under. “Yup! Should be good.”
He nodded, taking the love wrapped present and shoved them underneath the frame of the bed. You watched him with a warm smile, taking in the sight even though it’s one you’ve seen time and time before.
Nothing would beat the feeling though, the feeling of the domestic tranquility that he brought you.
Nothing could.
◂—♥︎—▸
A noise loud noise coming from downstairs and 3 am is certainly not a welcoming one.
It startles you out of your sleep, instinctively causing you to turn to the other side of the bed where your husband lays, but it’s cold and empty.
Getting out of bed, your heart beating fast and strong, you work your way out of the bedroom and downstairs, not failing to check on the kids before doing so just to make sure they were safe.
Practically tiptoeing to avoid creaking, you make your way downstairs, peering your head around a convenient corner.
Then, there you see it.
It’s your husband, clad in his silly Santa Claus costume he had brought not to long ago.
He looked utterly adorable as he carefully placed the presents underneath the sparkling lit up tree, not forgetting to sign each kids name upon their respective gifts before so.
You also notice a plate littered with cookie crumbs, broken carrots, and an empty milk cup to the left of him.
Oh how you love this man.
“Hey, Santa.” And he jumps at the sudden noise, whipping his head around to find you leering behind the wall.
“You scared me, sugar. I’m almost done placing these under the tree, if you want to help?”
You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his strong body and squeezing tight.
“I love you, Changbin.” Voice and tone softening, pressing your head into his chest. “You’re seriously the best thing I could ask for.”
“I love you too, my baby.” He places his hand on head, stroking the soft strands softly as you stand there, absorbed in each-other and the sound of fire cracking in the distance.
You lift your head up and place your lips on his, feeling the hand he had placed on your hair moving to your waist.
It’s sweet and daunting, something that’s been the one of your favorite parts of your marriage. The soft, tender, and sweet.
The feeling of being warm and fuzzy, wrapped in a blanket woven with love and comfort is what you felt whenever he kissed you.
It could be an intimate moment or a somber one, but it always gave you the same kind of warmth inside, and you loved it.
A creak of wood mixed with a small gasp takes you out of both your thoughts and the kiss, turning your head around towards the stairs.
There stood Nari, holding her hand over her mouth with the most shocked look in her eyes.
“Daddy! Daddy! Mom’s kissing Santa Claus!” She shouted, pointing towards him and attempting to scream once more, but you run up to her in time to stop her.
“Shhh! Somi and Do-Won are still asleep!” You shush, sighing as you crouch back up from where you were silencing her with the palm of your hand.
Changbin stands frozen, a blush and awkwardness written all over his face. You giggle, seeing as Nami’s eyes drift from Changbin to the glittering stack of presents underneath the tree.
“Ooh! Can I open them now? Mommy pleaseee.” She whines, and she looks positively adorable. “Not without your siblings, Nari. It’s time to go to bed.”
She groans and whines as you pick her up, cradling her in your arms.
“Uhm. I’ll see you later, ba— I mean Santa!” You stammer, walking up the stairs and sighing once more.
He watches as you make your way up the stairs, feeling his heart swell at the cute moment of you with Nari.
His little family, the same family that woke up the next morning, eyes filled with amazement and joy as they opened up their various gifts.
The comfort and joy it brought his heart is incomparable, not matching with pretty much any joy he’s experienced.
It felt like pure, indescribable love, and he couldn’t get over it.
seo changbin x female!reader | fwb, angst, fluff, suggestive, one small smut scene | wc: 3.6k | notes: he’s an oblivious idiot, she’s aware of that; dialogue heavy; i like it by skz meets read your mind by sabrina carpenter
~~~~~~
“so you’re saying we don’t have a relationship similar to valentines, did i get it right?”
“yeah, i mean– we do some stuff they do, but it’s just the difference between a dotted line and a solid line, you know?” he explained, still naked on your bed while you got ready to work. “i like what we have, no need to go that deep.”
you stared him down, trying not to laugh.
“then you won’t be upset if we can’t see each other for a while?”
“what would be the reason?”
“i don’t know, i might be too busy or overwhelmed to meet up and have sex.”
“we’ve spent time together with no sex before, so give me another reason.”
“now you see, that’s valentines behavior right there,” you pointed out. “since we’re not friends to avoid deeper intimacy, why should we spend time together doing things other than sex?”
changbin narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
“are you trying to end what we have, is that it?”
finally, you broke out laughing.
“no! i just find it funny that you give me all these goofy punch lines while doing the exact opposite,” you cleared, walking closer to the bed. “i’ll give you some time to read the patterns, but if you refuse to accept them, i’ll have to change our dynamics for the type of relationship you really want.”
when changbin tried to pull you back to bed, you were quicker to escape, going for your bag over your desk.
“can’t be late today, bin,” you warned. “you can sleep longer, but don’t forget to wash your dishes and make the bed before you leave.”
“why are you telling me what to do? did i ever forget?” he whined.
“no, you didn’t, exactly. that’s pattern number one.” you threw him a wink and left the room.
changbin whined your name again, making you hold a smile. you pressed the elevator button with thoughts wandering around your non-established relationship with the man on your bed. you were well aware of his bad experiences with dating before, that’s what gave you the patience to deal with his detachment speeches. the thing was that changbin was the clingiest friend with benefits to ever exist– the sex is amazing, of course, but what made you stay was his attentive demeanor, his dedication to make you feel the best in bed, to prioritize your pleasure, to make you want to come back.
since you lived quite far from each other, both agreed to spend the night and just leave in the morning for safety reasons. changbin was the one to pitch the idea, to be honest– on your third night together.
“i don’t believe it’s safe for you to go home right now, so just stay the night,” he said, head buried on the curve of your neck, pressing slow lazy kisses on your skin.
“oh, so you’re making up an excuse to cuddle me?” you asked, eyes closed, enjoying the aftercare way too much.
“i mean, i won’t be rude and tell you to leave. i’m thinking of your safety, if you’re safe while cuddling me, what can i do?”
you gave a light slap on his thigh resting over your waist.
“yeah, alright. is cooking included in the package? ‘cause i’m getting hungry.”
changbin raised his head, you could visualize a cartoon light bulb right in the air.
“i can cook in the morning, but my favorite diner is open until late,” he announced. “your feedback might affect your next orgarms for the night.”
you frowned at his choice of words, but couldn’t help an endearing laugh.
“is it that important to you?”
“oh, you have no idea.”
“then call them, i’m gonna shower while you’re at it.”
changbin giggled and jumped off the bed to reach for his phone.
the food was actually amazing, so he made you come at least three times before you blacked out on his arms. the breakfast didn’t happen, though, you had to leave as soon as you woke up for a work meeting. the tiredness of the night before almost made you late, but you went through it even with your focus far away from your apartment.
changbin’s excuse to stay the night at your place was that the streets weren’t safe for anyone to drive that late.
“that’s when drunk people go out there and mess up everything. do you mind me staying?”
“to cuddle as well?”
“that’s non-negotiable.”
in fact, these late night hook ups weren’t usual. the first time was after a daytime party for your friends engagement, two months ago, the first time you really met changbin in person. you knew him from pictures with your friend's fiance, but never crossed paths until that very day. lots of talking, dancing, laughing and flirting later, you ended up at his apartment with no clothes on and a pretty fun afternoon.
you decided to leave in the evening, since you also weren’t looking for attachment – even though changbin’s number was already saved with a promise of another good time soon. your hookups were planned to be whenever one of you needed a release, so the first rule was to respect each other's free periods on the day.
“i have no fixed hours, so you might not get lucky sometimes,” you warned.
“guess i’ll just have to sadly handle it myself.” he shrugged.
you took the opportunity to bring up another topic.
“do you plan on doing it with other people?” your eyes didn’t leave his.
“i don’t think so, it’s not easy to match the chemistry these days,” he answered honestly. “but i can’t give you the hopes of a deeper commitment, i’m not available for that.”
you turned your body to lay over his, pressing a peck on his lips, “don’t worry about it. this is fun as it is.”
“they say the trailer is always the most fun part, anyway.” he cocks a brow, smirking.
“oh, so you got some punch lines? nice to know what i’m getting into.”
changbin laughed, pulling you closer to kiss you properly. the rest was history.
~~~~~~
“bin,” you whispered in the darkness of your room.
he was sleeping right beside you. it took one more grind of your ass over his crotch to take a hum out of him.
“need me, baby?”
“please, put it in me, this wet dream won't let me go back to sleep.”
with one hand, you took off your panties, with the other, you played with his cock over his pajama shorts. his left arm goes under to hug you by the waist, keeping you close enough to still allow you to roll back onto him. he left kisses all over your shoulder, aware that you were in the mood to be his pillow princess. which was okay with him — changbin loved being your service top.
“oh, i’m so lucky… having the best pussy just for me,” he moaned, trusting slowly from behind. he holds your right knee up to your stomach so he could have more access to your creamy hole. “is it okay, baby? want me to go harder? talk to me.”
“i'm so tired and sensitive, just want to go back to sleep,” you whine, playing with your nipples and pressing harder against him.
he gets the message and speeds it up, pounding harder, making your whines go louder.
~~~~~~
things started to get weird when changbin got teased by your friends in common. during a dinner hang out in dan and aeri’s apartment, changbin got comfortable enough to have you sitting on his lap while everyone was around in the living room. no one was drinking, to be fair, everyone had work and classes the following day, so a hangover wasn’t an option. changbin was holding a cup of juice on the hand that wasn’t around your waist, you were holding a small plate of snacks to share with him.
later that night, the line was dropped:
“oh, but it’s so nice to see changbin being as married as aeri and dan!”, jun cheered.
“right? thought it would take longer to see our bin this happy again,” yujin agreed, the biggest smile on her face.
you could feel him tense slightly under you.
“thank you, everybody. glad to know you were paying that much attention to me, i feel very loved,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.
being too busy chewing on your food, you just smiled at the interaction. everyone was aware of changbin’s issues with commitment, everyone was aware that he wouldn’t be the one to admit that the joke wasn’t that much of a joke, after all.
when they changed the target to another friend, you thought it would be fun to keep on teasing him by yourself.
“guess i gotta take our marriage off my vision board now?” you whispered, putting a snack on his mouth to shut him up and make him think first.
changbin narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. he licked his lips, then left a small kiss on your arm.
“you better hide this hypothetical vision board when i’m around, or else i’ll have to take two steps back.”
he said that with such a cute smile that your reaction must have been what he expected for his comeback teasing. your smile wavered instantly, so you averted your gaze to the conversation happening outside your bubble. your body that felt so comfortable against his, started to feel itchy to get out of there as soon as possible– but you didn’t, you didn’t want to make a scene for something you knew was bound to happen.
“hey, i didn’t mean i don’t want to know about your plans, of course i do.” he squeezed your thigh softly to get your attention back.
“no, you’re right. honestly, i think we’re doing everything wrong at this point,” you mumbled, trying to be discreet. the mood obviously changed, but you hoped that you two were invisible in the room.
“what do you mean by that?” changbin asked, confused.
“aeri, where did you find these goodies? they don’t sell this flavor in my area.”
your friend got up excited, as if willing to share her newest discovery. she took you to the kitchen the showed you the pile of snacks she stocked for a week. aeri gave you two packs – for you and changbin, but you immediately let her know that those would be just for you.
“how are things in paradise?” she asked, leaning against the counter.
“been good, but i realized changbin has a twisted idea of a friends with benefits dynamic, so i’ll have to remind him of how it’s done.”
aeri watched you carefully, letting silence take the room. she didn’t have to search for disappointment on your features, it was pretty evident.
“yeah, it’s time he gets shaken up,” she agrees. “he’ll be a real loser if he lets you go.”
you gave her a faint smile, nodding. before sad thoughts took over your brain, you decided to leave, it was getting late– of course aeri didn’t believe it one bit, but she hugged you goodbye anyways. on the other hand, changbin was alert when you returned to the living room. he got ready to leave as well, hugging everybody while pretending he wasn’t the reason for your sudden change of mood.
the silence remained in the elevator and all the way to his car. changbin’s brain was overworking to come up with a solution for his mistake. unlike him, you looked oddly calm.
“y/n,” he decided to break the wall. “i’m really sorry for what i said. i didn’t mean to be insensitive about your plans.”
you shook your head, eyes on the street. “that’s not what upset me, actually,” you admited, changbin frowned. “i just realized i already told you about all of them, and i shouldn’t have done that.”
“what? why wouldn’t you?”
“because this isn’t what a sex-based relationship is about.”
“alright, no need to be rude,” he couldn’t help but scold you. “i never said i wasn’t interested in your life, i never said it was all about sex.”
“didn’t i tell you to read the patterns? did you even try?"
changbin paused, being able to look at you properly after stopping at the red light.
“i thought you were joking. i know i have crossed some lines, but–”
“you have crossed all of them, bin, that’s what i want you to realize.” he went silent. “i’m not ending things, i’m just acting differently from now on, like it’s supposed to be.”
a few minutes later, changbin parked in front of your building. he waited for your invitation, not sure if he was still welcome.
“you can come up, if you want,” you say, grinning when his face brightened a bit. “but there won’t be cuddles nor staying the night.”
his face fell again.
“but, baby, look at the time…”
“you can risk it tonight, that’s your call. we can give up the nightly hookups too.”
“stop teasing me, i’m warning you,” he said, his voice lower.
changbin took the car to your building’s parking lot, then you waited for the elevator together. you could feel his hand restless near yours, so you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling him relax. he didn’t stop looking at you once you got inside. for the both of you, it was not a thing to make out in public, but changbin hadn’t kissed you in what seemed like hours, so it was freaking difficult to stay sane in that moment.
as soon as you locked your door, changbin grabbed your waist to pull you closer, but you turned away when he tried to kiss you.
“we won’t get freaky tonight, okay? don’t want you too tired to drive back home later.”
changbin let out a frustrated goan locked his fingers on the back of your neck, tearing a moan out of you.
“baby, please, just shut the fuck up and let me give you what you deserve.”
~~~~~~
in the following days, changbin got busy with a project and you got overworked by your boss, so you couldn’t meet even once. the pent up stress joined the sadness of not being able to talk about it with changbin. you were aware that it was probably immature to just let him out like that, but you couldn’t give him all of yourself if he wouldn’t do something about it. changbin was the proud one in the situation, you were so tired and fragile to give him an ultimatum.
“is he fucking dumb, aeri?” you cried once. “how can he act that way and not actually be with me as a boyfriend? am i the only one fucking loving? didn’t i prove enough that i’m not his ex?”
aeri hugged you while dan prepared a cup of tea in the kitchen.
“i’m being honest when i say yes, he might be fucking dumb,” dan uttered from afar. “changbin is contradicting himself with this detachment shit. he’s unable to not care about someone’s feelings.”
“darling, don’t be wordy,” aeri advised, which made you laugh a little.
“y/n, i felt really sorry for bin when his ex messed him up.” dan returned holding two cups, giving to you and aeri. he held a finger up as a sign to wait, then he came back with his own cup. “but it’s been over a year, that’s why everybody jokes about him being happier, it isn’t actually a joke.”
“yeah, it’s clear as day that you and bin make a pretty good match”, aeri added. “he might be scared, but these actions are starting to hurt you because it’s obvious you’re not just friends with benefits anymore.”
you sniffled, less tears falling. the warm cup on your palms helped grounding you, somehow.
“i’m so fucking overwhelmed, i just wanted to feel safe with him.”
~~~~~~
the next day, all of changbin’s texts to you stayed on read.
bini: good morning, baby
bini: day off today, uh? any plans?
bini: how did that project go?
bini: my friend took me to the cutest ice cream shop yesterday
bini: let me know whenever you’re craving for it
bini: they have your favorite order there
bini: hey, answer me when you wake up
bini: was thinking of taking you out to lunch
bini: you’re probably overworked as always
bini: please take care of yourself
in the afternoon, you looked over the blanket to see your phone vibrating. changbin was calling.
“hey,” you picked up, not even a bit of excitement in your tone.
“sleeping late today?”
“no, just rotting in bed, actually.”
“everything okay? do you need anything?”
“just an awful week at work. i’ll hang out with aeri later, see if i can cheer up.”
“did you check my texts? i can come over right now, if you want. i’m an amazing company, as you know.”
“not in the mood for sex today, bin.”
“what? didn’t even think of it!”
you sigh, no energy left to have that conversation.
“well, you should. that’s all we have in common. don’t try crossing the line you created yourself.”
“y/n, don’t be stubborn, i want to take care of you.”
“you don’t have to, it’s not part of your role.”
“is this some kind of sick punishment? why are you doing this? i am your friend.”
“no, you’re not. the only time i get to be vulnerable with you is when we’re horny in bed, that’s all. my struggles outside our rooms are none of your business because that would require a level of intimacy that you made sure i knew is forbidden,” you ramble without noticing. “so, no, changbin, you can’t take care of me because i’m just your fuck buddy. i’ll text you when i get better, when i feel like i can be a good partner to you again, alright?”
“yeah, sorry. i get it, i’ll wait for you.”
but you didn’t hang up, you waited for him to do it. far from that cheesy couple action of not wanting to hang up first, you heart hurt just to think of doing it– distancing yourself.
you only realized you’d started crying when you heard his voice again.
“i’ll be there in ten. can you leave the door open for me, baby?”
you sniffled, just mumbling a weak “yes”. you heard the sound of keys and changbin moving around.
“just wait for me, okay? i’ll be with you in a few.”
then he hung up, leaving you with your heart on your sleeve. you got up from the bed and went to the door, unlocking it. after drinking some water in the kitchen, you got back in your room, throwing yourself over the sheets. didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again, burnout messing up your sleep schedule for a couple days now.
changbin woke you up in the softest way possible. he patted your hair carefully to bring you out of your slumber– it was great to see his face again as you opened your eyes.
“hi, baby.”
“hi,” you said. wasting no time to cuddle him by the waist, forcing him to lay down and get comfortable with you.
changbin left a kiss on the top of your hair, feeling your heartbeat due to how close you were.
“i’m sorry for being such a stubborn dumbass,” he started. “thank you for being so patient, for waiting as long as you could. sorry i couldn’t wait for you like i said i would today– couldn’t handle the thought of having you crying by yourself.”
“so you came to cry with me?” your voice was muffled by his shirt.
“of course, that’s part of my role as your friend and your boyfriend.”
silence again.
“that’s not the best way to make it official.”
“probably, but the label’s been here for a while, we just had to voice it out.”
“yeah, that’s why we all agreed you’re fucking dumb sometimes.”
“don’t tell me ‘we all’ includes dan and aeri.”
“won’t tell you, then.”
changbin changed his position to put you on your back, facing him. he used his thumb to get rid of the tear paths on your face, then started pressing kisses all over.
“i wasn’t planning to fall in love, but loving you is the easiest thing in the world,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “the only thing making me scared was my own memory of a bad time, ‘cause you never got me triggered, ever.”
you nodded, biting your lower lip nervously.
“i’m terribly sorry for pushing you away with my words, i know i can be quite contradictory.”
“speak your truth, cuddle monster.”
changbin’s eyes widened, hands immediately going to tickle your ribs. he couldn’t even be offended, he actually felt relieved knowing that you read his patterns so well.
“you know i’m sorry for your past experiences, and i’m glad you didn’t change your ways of affection, that’s what made me fall in love,” you stated. “i didn’t believe your goofy lines once, but you had to get a reality shock for your own good.”
his smile got bigger before kissing you softly. his tongue touched yours with an electric wave that came from longing and loving each other so much.
“have you eaten? we can cry together about your work and then i can cook you something,” changbin offered, playing with your hair.
“can we cry while you cook, though? i’m feeling hungry right now.”
Genre(s): Harry Potter/hogwarts au!, ABSOLUTE FLUFF, one scene of angst but that’s it, acquaintances(?) to lovers (Reader has a crush on Changbin but they aren’t quite friends???), feat. the rest of skz (mainly Felix, Jisung, Bangchan, and Jeongin though…)
Warnings: swearing, mentions of self-doubt, but that’s about it :)
W.C: 12.9k
Summary: Seo Changbin was used to his friends having to turn down confessions left and right, seeing as their little friend group as one of the most popular in the school. He convinced himself he didn’t care if nobody ever had interest in him, as it seemed liked such a hassle. That is, until he receives finds a box of chocolates and a love note from his “secret admirer”
A/N: I originally had this idea for Chan, but I feel like Changbin doesn’t get enough love these days and I am such a big simp for Binnie, so here we are. I also love different AUs, and Hogwarts is by far one of my favourites. And with the recent controversy of the stupid game coming out, this is a better way to indulge in the HP universe without supporting Transphobia and Antisemitism, so I hope you enjoy!
pairing: officer changbin x femreader (korean native - several years older)
genre: angst, crime, s2l, eventual smut
word count: 4k
trigger warnings for this chapter only: some suggestion in dialogue and thoughts, toplessness, appearance of a gun in an almost threatening manner, consideration of using the other for ulterioir motives, still very tame methinks
rating: 18+/M
summary: Set a year after the events of Catalyst, officer seo visits Jeju to see old friends and get away from the city. He meets a local and finds out that someone can see everything he’s hiding.
a/n: sorry this has been so long without an update. the brain has been very reticent on finishing this chapter. hopefully that won't occur again (HA!). note at the bottom about physical descriptions
series masterlist ~ ch 1 ch2
Chapter Three
The morning after Changbin moves into the loft, you don’t sleep well. It’s restlessness. A particular kind of restlessness. You’re not so naive to deny that you find him attractive. You aren’t blind. Nor in the little that you know, is his character unappealing. The fact that he’s willing to try tea despite being skeptical makes him open-minded. And you will always appreciate an open-minded person. Especially in the little village you’ve grown up in.
You’re up stupidly early due to said restlessness. The morning chill is far sharper as you and Amadeus stroll to the shop. You need to go food shopping, but there’s always something more interesting at your store than at home, so breakfast will be at your place of commerce. Amadeus curls up in front of the small oven that you preheat. You look up at the ceiling, thinking about your new tenant and though you aren’t planning to set a precedent to serve him, perhaps a nice simple breakfast would be welcome.
It’s a compulsion for you. To consider your teas, your food options and try and tailor it to the individual not only based on what you know about them, but also the time of day, the weather, etc. The cold means a warm breakfast, but you have no idea when he’ll get up, so it needs to be something that can sit for awhile without going bad. You cut fruit, stealing (is it stealing if it’s yours?) pieces to pop into your mouth. The water in the kettle on the stove boils and whistles. You pour yourself a matcha, whipping the tea with a bamboo whisk. The first sip is always delightful.
You don’t think your tenant will necessarily enjoy the same. Nor is matcha as fantastic if it’s sat for minutes. You leave the kitchen to search your many jars on the wall. You grab the jar of assam and then another of licorice root to sweeten.
Several minutes later, your stomach full of matcha and toast, you carry a drift-wood tray up the stairs. The stairs creak a little, but you hope you don’t disturb whatever rest he’s getting. You bend down to set the tray of tea, toast and local marmalade, and cut fruit in front of his door.
The door whips open and as you look up you see bare skin and dark metal.
Oh, you think, that’s the barrel of a gun.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” the tip of the gun drops instantly and your eyes go back to the bare skin. Your tenant is very much awake and standing in the open doorway in just pajama pants.
No shirt.
It’s like your brain repeats that phrase because it cannot quite believe it.
Broad, muscular in the arms especially. When you force your gaze up to his face, you see pink cheeks and his lower lip tucked in his teeth.
“I heard footsteps and–” He backs up. “I’m so sorry.”
You are having a hard time finding your voice, honestly. You stand, tray back in your hands, desperately trying to keep your focus on his face, not the arms, or the soft stomach.
You might have satiated your hunger for food, but your teeth ache for a purely different reason.
“I…” How do you word again? “I was up and thought a welcome breakfast might be nice. I didn’t even think…”
He shakes his head. “Of course not,” he forces a laugh. “Who thinks that?” He steps back into the loft before seeming to realize his not-fully-dressed state. “I…Uh…” He drops the gun on the bed and grabs a discarded t-shirt, dragging it over his head quickly. “Sorry…” He comes back to where you stand (you haven’t moved a muscle in several minutes) and takes the tray from you.
Your restlessness is not helped by the minimal contact of hands with that transfer.
“I know it’s not coffee…but…” you seem to be finding your ability to put together a sentence again. “It’s–”
“Tea?” He fills in, his smile nearly mega-watt.
“It’s tea. I think you’ll like it.” You wish you still held the tray because now you can’t figure out what to do with your hands. Even though he’s covered now, all you can see is bare torso. “I’m so sorry I woke you up.”
“Consequences of the job.” He nods to his gun on the bed as he puts down the tray on the small writing desk at the window. “You don’t mind? That I have it?”
“No. I’m sorry that you feel you need it, but I can’t imagine what you’ve seen.”
He meets your gaze, the smile gone. “Yeah…”
“There’s licorice root in the tea, to sweeten it.”
He tilts his head at the change of subject, walking back to the open doorway as you feel odd to enter, so you don’t. “Sweeten it?”
“And it’s good for fatigue.”
He leans on the door frame, far more relaxed. “Really? You think I need that?”
“You don’t?”
He snorts. “Valid.” He crosses his arms. “You normally come to work this early?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Maybe you need the licorice.”
“I’m good.” You clasp your hands together, still awkward without something to occupy your fidgeting. “I’ll leave you to eat…Again, sorry for the wake up call.” You turn to head back down the stairs when you hear:
“Wasn’t all bad.”
–
You open your shop and spend most of the morning finding things to do as customers are few, and your mind is consumed with this morning’s events. Not only the free show of male beauty you got (though you are both grateful for and resentful of), but what kind of life provokes the thought process of creaking stairs to be something threatening enough to have a weapon on hand.
Also, you can mark ‘had a gun pointed at me’ off your bucket list (there is no list, but maybe you should have one).
When Sheon shows up to take the afternoon shift, you welcome the opportunity to change environments, and get out of the shop and away from your thoughts. Amadeus is more than ready for a walk, and you need to take several packages to the post office, shipping teas to farther places than you’ve been able to go.
And lunch. You should have lunch.
“Fish?” you ask your dog. “I could go for something freshly caught, what about you?”
He doesn’t look anti-fish or crustacean, so you plan on seeking a table for galchi jorim after your stop at the post office. The sun has come out today and your coat feels a bit heavy for the warm-ish weather. You lift your face to take in the chilly daylight when you stop at the crosswalk in the center of town.
Then you grumble under your breath because across the street as you wait for the light to turn is the police station and who is walking out of it?
Your tenant.
For all of two minutes or more, while you walked, you forgot about him; his nakedness and his story.
“Dammit.”
He sees you, almost stumbling in his walk toward the curb across from you. You’d wave, but your arms are full of packages, so you nod instead. The light turns and you walk, now toward him, Amadeus at your side.
“Can I…can I help?” he asks once you're within earshot. He gestures to the packages.
“I’m good and I’m just–” He takes several off the top despite. “Why ask if you were just going to do it anyway?”
He grins and takes another. “Social rules.”
“I’m a block away from the post office, I can handle it.”
“Sure you can,” he agrees, walking beside you. “But now I have an excuse to walk with you, and thank you for breakfast.”
You feel your face heat. “Oh. You’re welcome.”
“And to apologize again for the whole..gun pointed at you thing.”
“Yes, well, certainly not a typical morning in my life in Jeju.”
He chuckles. “Would hate to be typical.”
“Yes, agreed.” I pause at the curb waiting for a car to go by. “Why were you at the station? Reporting your landlady for early morning disturbance?”
He laughs fully before crossing the street to the post office before you, shifting the packages into one arm so he can open the door for you.
“Yes, but they won’t prosecute. Said her tea is too good.”
You hear your name as you walk in. You nod to the postal worker, walking up to the counter with your hoard. Changbin follows behind you, placing what he carried next to yours. You see the worker’s expression, the question on her lips, but you speak quickly about the packages, asking for them to send you the invoice (they always do, but reminding them verbally at this moment seems a good choice).
“You don’t need anything else from me, right?” you ask, already moving away from the counter.
The worker shakes her head, and you can see that she wants to ask, but will hold off since Changbin is there. You might get accosted by questions next time you run into her, but for now, you’re safe.
It isn’t until you’re both out the doors that he answers your original question.
“I find it’s always good to let the local force know there’s an officer around. In case they need another person, or find out that I have a weapon, etc. It just makes it less of a pissing match if there’s any confrontation in the future.”
“That makes sense.” You look over at him before rubbing Amadeus’s head as you both walk toward the restaurant. “How did you find our local constabulary? Small town hicks? Impressive yet tiny?”
He half-grins. “Typical. And nice enough.”
“Sounds about right.” You haven’t had a lot of interaction, though two deputies you went to school with, though that hardly recommends them for authority. “Amadeus and I are about to have lunch. Would you like to join us?”
Changbin looks at your dog. “Is he okay with company?”
“I thought we established that you aren’t a threat.”
He meets your gaze, and it’s brief, but the kiss; the most chaste kiss you’ve ever given or received flashes through your memory.
“We could again.”
Then he smiles and chuckles like his words don’t seize your heart in a way that you haven’t felt in a couple years. The teasing, the light flirting is pleasant and ridiculously cute from this man.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Amadeus doesn’t mind.” You continue leading the way. “I don’t either. Unless you have plans?”
“Just to check out the two local gyms.”
You make a face, unable to hold back your mild distaste for exercise. “You could jog on the beach. It’s much prettier.”
His smile doesn’t diminish as you both cross another street. “Not really in it for cardio.”
Your eyes fall to his arms, like his words just forced you to. “Ah. I guess I can’t help with that.”
–-
Changbin isn’t really interested in eating (okay, he is, but he had planned to work out first), but your invitation was too tempting to decline. He watches as you walk in and greet those who work there. Amadeus just stops at the front door and finds a spot to sit. The dog’s eyes watch Changbin as he enters.
Still not sure if the dog actually minds him or not.
“I’m getting the galchi jorim,” you tell him as he stands next to you. “What would you like? My treat.”
He shakes his head immediately. “You got breakfast, I can get lunch.” In the corner of his eyes he sees you look away at his mention of breakfast and he wonders if he might be too bold with you, especially in public where listening ears can interpret anything and everything. “Galchi jorim sounds good.” The menu is plastered above the counter, photos matching each dish. His stomach grumbles.
You huff. “You can’t get the same thing.”
“No?”
“No.” You’re firm about this. “Get abalone and razor clams. We’ll share.”
He doesn’t argue, nor questions the familiarity you assume with such a plan. He likes it. He likes that you know so little about who he is and seem comfortable with him anyway. That’s not usually his experience with people.
He pays as you go find a table, but not before getting a rib bone from one of the workers for Amadeus. He sees the workers eye him closely, then you, and it’s intriguing. He hasn’t dealt with small communities all that much in Busan.
When he sits across from you, sipping his water, he asks: “Is it because I’m a mainlander that they’re staring?”
You look over at the people working diligently then out the door to where Amadeus is chewing happily.
“Uh.” You shrug. “A bit. Probably.”
There’s more to be said. He just waits, enjoying seeing you not as cool and confident as usual. He won’t forget how almost agitated you were this morning. He’s sure his gun has to do with it. But maybe not all of it.
“It’s more seeing me with someone?” you continue. “Small town means everyone knows everyone.”
“You don’t do lunch with strange men?”
You chuckle. “No. Not in a lot of years.”
He’s not sure how that’s possible. The sun is out and the way it filters through the windows of the restaurant and falls on your hair is stunning. His friends rag on him that he falls easily, but they’re wrong. He admires easily. People can be beautiful, and he seems to see the beauty more easily than others. That’s all.
He observes, it’s part of his job and with a job that takes over his entire life, it’s become part of his personality. You wear a modern hanbok, male or female style, as comfortably as you wear jeans and a sweater. You are confident with your place in the world as far as he can tell, and he is more than impressed by it. And you.
“So, it’s likely that they’ll be thinking all kinds of things because we’re eating together,” you say in way of apology.
Being linked to you is nothing to apologize for. He wonders if the locals think he’s worthy. “Must be nice to have that kind of time.”
“Must be.”
“You know everyone then?”
You shake your head. “Not exactly. I couldn’t name every single person in the kitchen, but…” You ponder, looking off somewhere as though the words are just waiting to be seized by you.
He likes your eyes. Compassionate, very honest. He’s still a bit shaken at how well you seem to read him, but he can’t see not being around you. Not just as his landlady, to use your word, but you could be useful.
He mentally recoils from the thought. Useful. What a terrible way to look at a person.
“I know how everyone is connected,” you finish your sentence. “Like, I might not know the dishwasher’s name, but I know he’s cousin to one of the lawyers in town.”
The food arrives and you clap lightly in excitement. Seems you enjoy food like you enjoy tea. He doesn't say much as you explain why their galchi jorim is the best.
You grew up here. You know every person which means you know when someone isn’t from here.
That kind of knowledge would be extremely helpful.
“Here,” you serve several scoops of the stew into a separate bowl. “For you.”
“Thanks.”
Your smile is bright. He imagines that you haven’t lived your life without difficulty but it’s hard to see the remnants of struggle in how you speak and live your life.
It won’t hurt to get to know you more. To be close. If you ever noticed anyone that didn’t belong, you could tell him. He could ask, right? He doesn’t have to explain why he needs to know.
How close could he get? His eyes drift to your neck, bare as it isn’t as chilly today.
Hella appealing.
“How is it?” you ask.
He’s taken several bites, but not really paid attention. So he takes another, pondering.
“Pretty great.”
“I know, right?”
There’s only so much he can get out of Hwang and his partner without making them suspicious. He’d like to keep them ignorant the entire time if he can. Both of them have been through enough.
He can use you.
Again, his mind chastises him for thinking of a person, you, that way. But he can’t risk it.
And honey trapping you isn’t the worst thing. If he even can. That’s never been his role. His stature tends to be more intimidating than alluring.
“You’re thinking really hard about the abalone right now.”
He startles and meets your gaze. You look knowing and that scares him. How much can you read him?
Maybe getting close is risky. He wouldn’t want to put you in danger. The tea-lady in Jeju who serves him breakfast just because.
Fuck, he really doesn’t want screw your life up.
“Well, it’s really good,” he replies.
“Sure.” You prop your head up on your hands, watching him. “Was it a investigation that went bad?”
“Huh?”
“Why you’re using your time off now?”
“Oh.” The case was over a year ago. Does it still count?
“You don’t have to tell me, but I feel like you’d stop thinking so much if you just got it out.”
He snorts. “What if I’m not thinking at all? I’m just completely blank.”
You point at him, specifically at his forehead. “That is not your problem at all, Seo Changbin. I can see those gears turning. You’re on vacation. You can just be.”
“I’m not sure I know how to do that.”
You smile. “That’s okay. I can help.”
“Yeah?” He mimics your posture. “If it includes meditation, you’re fighting a losing battle.”
Your laugh is guileless, almost innocent in its freedom. “I don’t think I’ve ever even attempted meditation. I don’t know if I could ever empty my mind.”
The conversation slows as you both enjoy the food. Being from Busan means Changbin knows good seafood, and Jeju, or this restaurant at least, doesn’t fail to impress him.
“Thank you again for lunch, even though it wasn’t necessary.”
“I’m good for it,” he reassures you.
“You should be using your money on you, and your vacation.”
He smirks, holding back any flirty comment about taking you out. He’s already said a few things that surprise him, in just knowing you all of a few days. And if he makes you uncomfortable, it’ll make staying in your shop difficult; make seeking you out for the peace of your company tough.
“So,” you set your chopsticks down. “You’ve known her since middle school?”
Though his smile is fond, his brain sifts through the details of his teen years and beyond, working on how to present them for a civilian.
“Yeah. Hwang and I, and some others, worked for her dad. Both a boss and a mentor in some ways.”
“Oh yeah? Doing what?” You reach over and steal another clam.
“Errands mostly. The basic grunt work.” He’ll have to make something up if you want more specifics.
“See if you could hack it?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“And could you?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, thoughts spinning back to those years, the end of high school and Park-nim’s designations for him and his friends at that time. Lee and Hwang booked tattoo appointments that very day.
“He saw something very different for me.”
Your eyes lose a little of the happy spark. “How so?”
“He was the one who recommended the police university.” He sees your eyes fall to where his rubs his arm. He stops, not even realizing he had done so.
“And your friends?”
“All worked for him, until he passed away several years ago. One of them took over the business. Does a really good job.” Minho makes Changbin’s job extra difficult, but that’s to be expected.
You’re quiet for a few seconds. “That would be hard.”
“Huh?” He grabs another slice of cuttlefish so he doesn’t reveal any more.
“I mean, you were the only one doing something different. Feels like it’d be kind of isolating.”
He swallows, eyes darting away from yours. You really do have a way of seeing beyond the surface.
“I guess.”
“I mean, I’m sure you are great at it.”
“I could be terrible.”
“I don’t think you would allow yourself to be terrible at anything.” You answer so quickly, so sure of it that he goes silent. “But if all your friends are there, working for her dad. And you’re in cop college…. Not that you couldn’t make new friends,” you reassure, making him grin. “But…it’d feel like everyone got an invitation to the party, but you didn’t.”
A few moments of quiet again as he wraps his head around what you’ve just thrown out there. He’s never put it into words, but:
“It’s disconcerting,” he begins. “How you seem to read me so well. Even shit I haven’t thought of.”
You look embarrassed at his observation, your feet tapping the wood boards beneath your feet. “It really is a byproduct of the job. No one comes to a tea shop for just tea.” You look outside, possibly for Amadeus. “Sorry if it’s too much.”
He stares at you for several seconds. “No. Not at all.” It probably is too much, given his life and his work, but he can’t feel bothered by it. He supposes most people want to feel seen.
Even him.
You consider each other. He tries to keep things hidden even while making eye contact. The seriousness fades with the seconds passing.
“Was Hyunjin always annoyingly gorgeous?”
Changbin laughs. “Like…it was less obvious in those awkward puberty years, but yeah. We mocked him for being so pretty because what else could we humble him with?”
You giggle. “I actually understood the word ‘gobsmacked’ the first time I saw him.”
“He’s never let it die that he’s taller too.”
“Are you insecure about your height?”
He shakes his head.
“Good.”
That makes him look at you closely. Is your confidence sincere? Do you just say things with assurance that it’s fact?
More laughter, more eating; the conversation veering to more casual subjects: the types of tourists that visit, his silliest call to go investigate, how it’s more paperwork and deescalating than anything else.
You’ve both eaten your fill, and it’s time to part ways. Amadeus joins you when you head outside. You look past Changbin and half-grin.
“They really are going to gossip about me and you.”
He looks back and the workers busy themselves at his attention.
“I feel like I should do something really drastic just to mess with them.” When he looks back at you, there’s something in your eyes.
He really could get close to you if he wanted to. You seem more than open to him.
It burns in his stomach, a heat that tempts.
“Probably should keep that up your sleeve for now. At least until you decide on which gym to frequent. They might reject you if you cause public disturbances regularly.”
He laughs. “Right. Good point.” He reaches out to see if Amadeus will return the gesture. The wolf-dog eyes his hand for several seconds before affirming that he’s okay and moves to nose Changbin’s fingers.
You smile at the interaction.
“Where to for you? Back to hocking your wares?”
Your smile widens. “No. It’s nice to have an assistant for that very purpose. I’ll probably spend time at the greenhouse.”
He tilts his head to the side. “I didn’t see one?”
“It’s not near the shop. There wasn’t space.” You cross your arms, intrigued. “Did you walk the perimeter?”
“Of course.”
Your arms drop. “Of course. That’s how you live.”
You’re seeing too much again and he starts to walk backwards, back toward the center of town. “Have fun?”
“It’s usually fun. Maybe you might help me at some point?”
He makes a noncommittal sound. “I’m not sure I have a green thumb.”
You are also walking backwards, toward the shore. “Maybe you haven’t tried yet, Mr. Seo. I feel like you have no idea what you are capable of.” You speak to Amadeus to follow you before waving at him. He tries not to watch you go, but it’s hard.
He’s so damn intrigued.
--
a/n2: okay, so i wanted to describe changbin's torso well, and here's my thing: i don't know how to say that he doesn't have rock hard abs in a way that sounds flattering. because i mean it in the best possible way. he's healthy, he eats, he takes good care of himself, but he's not dehydrated or whatever to make himself have a six/eight-pack. AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM! anyway, i tried to present him as i think he might actually be and if that sounds at all insulting, i'm sorry. i did my best. i personally don't want a man who has the 'perfect' body. i want a human.
➮ tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader
summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret.
genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers; supernatural themes; non idol au, tattoo artist au, werewolf au, supernatural au
warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, established boyfriend!Joshua (please note this story does NOT include cheating)
If you don't see your name, I cannot tag your blog or you've been removed for either being a minor or not having your age listed on your blog.
MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.
AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: here we have chapter 3. I lost some steam for this after being so strong in the beginning but I finally finished it. There isn't much to say other than here it is. I finished it lmao it's a slow burn so it'll take some time before we see any Changbin action. I hope you like it and as always, I love feedback and pls consider reblogging if you liked this chapter!
A huge thank you to Sky ☁️ for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, this series wouldn’t even exist. Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟯 - 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁
wc: 16.1k
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Soft subtle jazz tones floated through the air as you worked, a soft but catchy beat causing you to bob your head as you tapped your foot.
You’d been working on this new set, a beautiful antique set from Japan. You had finished making the gold paste earlier and were currently applying it to the broken seams of the carafe while Mr. Serizawa worked in the woodshop.
An old couch had been brought into the shop in dire need of restoration. The foam was lumpy and lopsided, the upholstery was ripped and beyond salvaging, and one of the back legs was broken, having splintered off.
He’d spent most of the previous day stripping the loveseat down to its basics, tossing the old upholstery and foam cushion. You didn’t have much time to watch, having finished painting the details on the English tea set which was drying in the safety of your cabinet.
The whirr of the sander had been drowned out long ago as you listened to the music Mr. Serizawa put on instead. He did it as a courtesy to your ears but you’d learned a long time ago how to tune out the noise while you worked.
You held two pieces of ceramic together, joining them at their seam with glue and once it set, you placed them aside to finish drying before you could add the resin. It was tedious work but you loved it all the same. Your eyes wandered to the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost six pm.
You wiped your fingers on your apron as you stood up, grabbing a cloth from your table as you walked over to the door of the woodshop, covering your nose and mouth with the cloth.
You peered in where you saw your boss looking over his work, sanding the wooden surfaces of the couch smooth before applying the stain. You took his break in sanding to call out to him and get his attention.
“It’s almost six pm, Mr. Serizawa!”
He looked up and you had to fight the urge to laugh at his appearance. He had forgotten his goggles and was instead wearing a pair of black sports sunglasses with blue shift lenses and his respirator. He always wore a pair of coveralls when he worked on furniture to protect his clothes from dust, stain, paint, and resin. He looked quite silly.
“Is it really?” he asked, his voice muffled by the mask. You nodded as he lifted the sunglasses.
“You don’t need to stay to close up,” he said as he turned off and set aside the electric sander, stepping over the cord as he moved towards you. “I’ll close up tonight. Shinju is making pork belly for dinner so it will be ready by the time I close up shop,” he added. You smiled at the mention of his wife.
Ever since his call the other day, he reported her progress each day. It filled you with relief that Shinju was doing so well. “Are you sure?” you asked softly as he started to walk back over to the work desk. He nodded, waving you away. “Just make sure to put that finished set out for sale!” he said, pointing as you started to walk away.
You moved to your station and cleaned up your supplies and left the pieces to dry as you opened the cabinet housing the finished English set. Carefully, you gathered all the pieces before closing the door and heading to the front where you set the items on the counter and started to write up a description and figure out a price.
As you were placing the set on one of the shelves, the front door opened. You looked up, expecting a customer but were surprised to see your best friend entering, the soft jingle of the bell echoing around the shop.
“Be right with you!” you heard Mr. Serizawa’s voice from the back. “I’ve got it!” you called back and turned to Lilah who smiled at you as she shut the door. “Is it a bad time?” she asked which you shook your head as you turned back to the shelf and set up the description and price tag.
Lilah walked over to look at the newest addition, leaning in to see all the tiny details.
“You really have a knack for that,” she noted as you moved behind the counter to add the English set to the inventory roster, adding the price and date. “Thanks,” you replied as you set the book back under the counter and looked up at your best friend. She was dressed rather casually you noticed but there was something about her make up that had you second guessing your assumption.
“What’s up?” you asked as she looked at you expectantly. “Are you off?” she asked. You nodded, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter. “Good,” Lilah said leaning in as well. “Cause we’ve been invited to a house party.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes, stepping back and moving away from the counter. “Lilah,” you started.
She followed as you walked out from behind the counter and towards the curtain that blocked off the back of the shop. Lilah followed you, pushing the green curtain aside as she stepped into the backroom. “Come on, Y/N!” she whined. You turned to her and noticed Mr. Serizawa peering out from the woodshop door. “Is that Lilah?” he called.
Lilah turned to look over her shoulder. “Hi Mr. Serizawa,” she said politely, greeting him. His face lit up. “Oh good to see you!” he said with a smile. “Make her leave,” he added, nodding towards you as you sat back down behind your desk.
Lilah turned back to you, giving you a smirk as she waited for you to move.
You sighed heavily and stood back up, reaching behind to untie your apron.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay, Mr. Serizawa?” you called as you folded and set your apron aside. His head appeared in the doorway into the woodshop again.
“It’s Friday night,” he started. “Go have fun with your friends!”
Lilah smiled brightly, thanking him as she ushered you out of the backroom, grabbing your things hastily in an effort to get out of the building faster. You whined as she shoved you out the front door, allowing it to shut. You glanced back in time to see your boss locking the door and waving you off.
You allowed Lilah to steer you town the sidewalk, no doubt in the direction of the party. “Wait,” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to halt as well. You glanced down at your outfit and looked back up at her. “You don’t want me to change?” you asked and she smiled, shaking her head.
“You look perfectly fine,” she replied, linking arms with you and starting off down the sidewalk again.
Compared to her outfit, you looked ready to run errands in your peach floral skirt and cream colored blouse. There’s no way Lilah would have deemed this party appropriate under normal circumstances. You stopped her again. “Why do you keep stopping?”
You narrowed your eyes at her. “What’s your deal?” you asked suddenly. “You’d never let me go to a party dressed in my grandma clothes,” you added, using her words, not yours.
Lilah rolled her eyes. “Will you stop,” she asked, taking your arm again. “You look cute right now,” she added as she steered you down the pavement to the end of the block. “It’s just a house party.”
“And besides,” she continued. “You have a boyfriend, so it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone!” You rolled your eyes as you made a turn at the end of the sidewalk and started down the street that led into a residential area. “And another reason is because we’d have to go to your place and then come all the way back here which would take longer,” she said as you neared the end of the block where you could hear heavy bass coming from one of the houses.
The true reason why she didn’t want you to go home and change. She wanted to save time.
“Are we going to see Chris?” you asked as you neared the house.
It was a medium craftsman style home with a nice sized front porch with the signature columns framing it. The front door was a rich red wood with glass windows at the top. The house was two stories with a small fenced in front yard and a one car driveway leading up to a small garage.
The front door opened as the two of you headed up the steps, a few partygoers exiting just before Lilah shoved you over the threshold.
Inside was like a scene out of a movie. The living room was just off the foyer with a staircase just in front of the door that led up to the second floor. To the left of the foyer was the dining room where the dining table had been moved aside and a beer pong table had been set up.
A crowd was gathered in the dining room watching the current match. Next to the staircase was a hallway that led all the way to the back of the house but you couldn’t see much as it was pretty crowded. Lilah dragged you into the crowd, bypassing the living room where a DJ had set up a table and all his equipment.
Lilah led you into an opening in the wall and into the kitchen.
You wove through the crowd until you reached the kitchen island where the drink station had been set up. Lilah was quick to pour you a drink despite your protesting. “It’s not that strong,” she told you over the bass. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, amused that she was right.
Lilah finished making her own drink before taking your hand and taking a large sip. She dragged you through the house, no doubt looking for Chris. You kept your wits about you, looking around as you dodged people and danced around them until you were back in the foyer, facing the dining room.
A few people had moved and you could now see on one end of the table was Chris and Minho. ‘They must be one of the teams,’ you told yourself as you sipped your drink. Lilah only waited a moment before dragging you into the mix and worming her way through the crowd until she reached Chris’ side as Minho aimed and bounced the ball in his hand into one of the cups on the opposite side.
Half the crowd erupted into cheers as Chris and Minho celebrated their small victory.
Chris turned from Minho and you watched as his eyes landed on Lilah and even you could see the way his expression changed. It was like no one else was in the room. It was the way Joshua used to look at you.
“Hey!” you heard him say, pulling Lilah into a hug. “You made it!”
You turned your attention to him as he spoke to you. “And you, too?” he asked, offering a hug which you accepted. Despite the empty cups in front of him, he smelled like cologne and not the alcohol you knew he’d consumed since before you even arrived.
“Yeah,” you replied. “She kidnapped me from work!” You nodded at Lilah who smiled sheepishly. Chris turned to look at Lilah, mimicking her grin. “I hope you don’t get in trouble for leaving work,” he replied. You shook your head as Lilah answered him.
“No, in fact, her boss practically kicked her out!”
Chris let out a laugh as he picked up his drink and downed the rest of it. He turned to Minho. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” he announced. Minho nodded nonchalantly before his eyes landed on you and you could have sworn you saw a small smile grace his features before he turned his attention on the opposing team.
Lilah leaned into your frame to speak directly into your ear. “I’m gonna go help Chris,” she said before downing the rest of her drink and sending you a wink. And just like that, she left you alone.
You looked into your cup, wanting to avoid the gaze of practically everyone.
As you tried to act natural, you felt someone’s gaze on you and glanced up at the side across from Minho and Chris’ and felt your breath catch in your throat.
Changbin was standing with his friend, Jeongguk. They were the opposing team. Jeongguk was sporting a black oversized tee as he usually did but instead of his signature sweats you’d seen him in twice now, he was wearing a pair of jeans and some brown Timberlands.
Changbin on the other hand was dressed for the occasion, wearing a black graphic shirt with white geometric lines and black cargo pants fitted at the ankle and tucked into black combat boots and for the first time you’d ever seen, he was wearing black framed glasses. A pair of dog tags hung from the chain around his neck. Jeongguk was looking at Minho, a very cheeky smile on his lips as he pointed at Minho who glanced down and groaned at seeing a small white ball in one of the cups.
Changbin, however, had his eyes trained on you. His expression was unreadable but when he noticed you looking back, a small smile, almost a shy one, spread across his lips before he looked away. You looked away as well as Lilah and Chris returned with fresh drinks, laughing at some joke you hadn’t heard.
The party raged on around you and you downed your drink. Chris had offered to get you a refill but it was Minho who went instead, despite your protests. Your second drink dwindled quickly and soon you were venturing into the kitchen for something else to sip on.
The pong game had ended after Minho brought your second drink to you and the group had migrated into the kitchen nook, taking up empty seats around the table. Lilah had taken up residence on Chris’ lap and a girl whose name you didn’t know managed to steal Changbin’s lap and make it her spot.
You tried not to watch out of the corner of your eye as the two of them chatted animatedly about his tattoos and as he spoke, he pointed them out to her. You also tried not to pay attention to the way her hand rested on his bicep a little longer than necessary.
Changbin didn’t seem to mind the attention from what you could tell. As you tried to focus on anything else, you noticed in the living room Seungcheol who was leaning into and talking to… Joshua?
Your boyfriend laughed at something Seungcheol said before he caught your eye. He sent a smile your way and turned back to his friend. You managed to find something else to drink and were back at the table, ignoring the way the girl on Changbin’s lap was whispering into his ear.
You tried to focus on the conversation at hand.
“That place was so unsanitary, I’m glad they shut it down,” Ari said from her spot next to Minho who had his arm draped across the back of her chair. “It was an iconic staple!” Lilah argued, turning her head to look at Ari. The blonde rolled her eyes. “You got food poisoning from there like five times, Lil,” she reminded your best friend.
“When did you get food poisoning five times?” you interjected, drawing the attention of half the table.
The girl on Changbin’s lap finally seemed to notice you, giving you a once over before speaking.
“Uh, who the hell are you?” she demanded.
Your attention snapped to her.
You couldn’t focus on her face. Instead, you looked past her at Changbin.
He was looking at her with a look of unmistakable anger. He tapped her back, motioning for her to get up. She got up, still looking at you as he got up and excused himself from the table and disappeared into the crowd.
“She’s my best friend, Pax,” Lilah said sternly. Ari nodded, turning to look at Pax. “Don’t be a cunt, Paxton,” she added. You downed the rest of the liquid in your cup and excused yourself, feeling the overwhelming urge to run away and cry.
It had never bothered you before when some of Lilah’s friends asked who you were but when someone looked at you with such disdain, it really dug deep.
You returned to the kitchen island, glancing around. Joshua was nowhere in sight and you wondered briefly what he was up to. “Hey,” a voice said and you looked up. A man you’d never seen before was standing across from you at the island. “Keep walking buddy,” another voice said and you watched as Minho and Ari passed you, heading for the dance floor.
“Yeah,” Ari added. “She’s taken!”
The two of them disappeared into the dancing crowd, leaving you to the mercy of this talkative stranger.
“So you’re not single I take it?” he asked as you searched through the available drinks. You shook your head. “Nope,” you answered. He leaned in, watching you with brown eyes. “Then where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. You looked up to meet his gaze.
He was decent looking and who knows. Maybe if you weren’t dating Joshua, you might have taken him up to one of the bedrooms. “He’s around here somewhere,” you replied, sifting through the small trough of ice on the counter, looking through the canned and bottled drinks.
“You should try the punch,” the guy said before winking and standing up straight. “Your boyfriend is a lucky man,” he added before bidding you a goodnight and walking away. Your eyes fell on the bowl of punch and deciding what the hell, you grabbed a clean cup and reached for the ladle.
You scooped a couple ladlefuls into your cup and placed the ladle back into the bowl before lifting the cup to your lips. Before you could take a sip, however, a hand grabbed the cup and tore it from your hand. You looked over as Changbin dumped the cup into the sink and tossed the cup before holding up an unopened can of soda.
You looked from the can up to his eyes and then took the can, offering a small thanks.
He gave you a small smile as you opened the can and took a sip, silence falling over the two of you.
“Lilah mentioned your tolerance,” he said just loud enough for you to hear him. You felt heat rise to your face so instead of speaking, you took another sip of the soda. Changbin watched you before speaking again. “And I’m pretty sure I saw someone spike the punch with something other than alcohol.”
You looked at him, brows raised. He was… looking out for you? You nodded silently, taking another sip of your soda before raising the can. “Thanks by the way,” you said and started to walk away. Changbin followed as you wove through the crowded kitchen.
“So, where did Paxton go?” you asked, noticing she was no longer seated at the table. Changbin glanced at the table before his gaze fell back on you. “Eh, she’s probably with someone else right now,” he answered. “To be honest, I wasn’t really interested in her.”
Changbin had no idea why he was even telling you this. It’s not like you cared about his dating life. Or so he thought. “What about Hana?” He looked up at you, the shock on his face must have shown because you continued to speak. “She seemed nice.” Changbin nodded slowly, still astonished you were even asking.
“Uh, she was,” he admitted. “But we didn’t really have that much in common. The attraction was mainly surface level,” he added. He let out a chuckle. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she only wanted to date me because she might get free tattoos.”
You looked up from your drink, clearly surprised by this admission. You looked away and said something under your breath, prompting him to ask you to say it again.
“If people want you to tattoo them, they should pay for it. Regardless if they’re dating you or work for you,” you replied. “Art is art and people need to remember that artists are people who deserve to be paid for their work.” If Changbin hadn’t already respected you as an artist he certainly did before.
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said more to himself than to you but you seemed to have heard him anyway. “Take my art for instance,” you said as he listened. “If I just gave it away to friends or my boyfriend or my family, the shop would never make any money off something I spent hours, even days, making.”
Changbin nodded as you continued. “Art is a valid career and people need to remember that,” you added, taking another sip of your soda. Changbin watched you briefly before contributing to the conversation. “I’m glad someone else feels the same way about art. A lot of people see art as a hobby and not a livelihood so they expect you to do it for free,” he said as he leaned against the counter.
“They expect you to do it for free because someone else did it for free,” you interjected, catching Changbin off guard. “Which is why I always tell people to never sell themselves short. Don’t do anything for free, especially if you’re good at it.” Changbin’s lips pulled into a half smile.
The conversation between the two of you dwindled as you both watched over the crowd until Changbin noticed you fanning yourself with your hand. “You alright?” Changbin asked, brow knitting together in concern. You forced a smile. “I’m just a little warm. There’s a lot of people here.”
Changbin tossed his empty container in the trash and stood up straight. “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asked and you stared back at him, contemplating your options. You could stay inside where it was really warm but where Joshua could see you or you could go outside with Changbin and cool off.
You hadn’t seen Joshua in a long while so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go outside. It’s not like you were with a total stranger. Changbin was friends with Chris and if both Lilah and Chris trusted him, then you had no reason not to trust him either.
“Sure,” you replied finally, standing up straight and downing the rest of your soda. Changbin took the empty can from you and tossed it before letting you lead the way to the backdoor, squeezing through the crowded kitchen, into the hallway before finally stepping out into the cool night air.
The backyard was a decent size, fenced in with a privacy fence. The deck was large, accommodating several partygoers and an eight person hot tub that was currently being used. You skipped down the steps, feet landing on the grass. In the corner to your right was a small garden, a large oak tree stood, a rope swing with a wooden seat hung from one of the sturdier branches.
Changbin followed as you walked over to the swing, taking a seat as he stood nearby.
“This is a really nice place,” you noted, looking around the backyard. Changbin nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m not sure whose place it is,” he added with a chuckle. “Chris and Minho dragged us here,” he continued, moving to stand behind you.
“Yeah, me neither,” you replied, chuckling when you felt him gently push you. “You gonna push me?” you asked as you swayed lightly on the swing. Changbin chuckled, grabbing the rope to stop your momentum. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Old habits.”
You glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you looked away. Changbin let go of the ropes and moved around to lean against the trunk of the tree. “So,” he started, hands in his pockets. “Is that one tea set still at the shop?” he asked.
You turned to look at him. “Which tea set?” you asked, cocking your head. “The kintsugi one,” he answered. You hesitated before answering. “Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s still there.” Changbin nodded silently. “Why do you ask?” you continued. Changbin fought the urge to smile.
“Jeongguk keeps talking about it. I think he really wants it but doesn’t want to admit it.”
You smiled, looking down at your knees. Changbin glanced down as well. He hadn’t said it earlier because he wasn’t sure if it was crossing a line but you looked really nice. The peach skirt with floral pattern complimented your skin and the cream colored flowy blouse looked good on your frame. Your makeup was subtle and different from almost any girl he normally associated with.
His eyes wandered of their own accord, moving down your legs to take in the shoes you wore. Beige colored mary jane style pumps with low heels completed the look and Changbin had to force himself to look away from your legs. If he stared any longer, you might think he was a creep.
“How many tattoos do you have?” you asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Uh,” he hesitated, counting in his head. “A lot,” he finally answered with a chuckle. “Where are they?” you asked, leaning your head against the rope. “Well,” Changbin said, standing up straighter. “I have them almost everywhere,” he answered. “Arms, legs, chest, back,” he continued.
“Do you have full sleeves?” you asked, looking up at him. Your question was genuine and full of curiosity. Something he didn’t expect from you. He nodded. “I do,” he answered. “From the shoulder down to my wrists and a few hand tattoos,” he added. “Which I’m sure you’ve seen by this point,” he added with a chuckle, showing the tops of his hands to you. With a smile, you nodded slowly.
“And your chest?” you asked. “Oh, just one,” he said softly, raising his hand to place it over his chest tattoo. “A tiger,” he explained.
A smile grew on your face. “I have plans to add more,” he added. “Jeongguk has the sketches on his tablet.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “Do you have any tattoos?” he asked suddenly and you laughed loudly. “Sorry,” you said as your laughter subsided. “No,” you continued, shaking your head.
“Lilah is the tattooed one.”
Changbin nodded slowly. “Have you ever thought about getting one?” he asked and again you shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “It’s never really interested me before,” you added. Changbin watched as you swayed gently on the swing. “Do tattoos bother you?” he asked, tilting his head.
You looked up, meeting his gaze. “No,” he said softly. “They’re just tattoos,” you added. “Most people in this town are divided when it comes to them. Half the population has them and the other half doesn’t,” you explained. Changbin watched as you started to turn the swing, the rope twisting together above your head. “Some people think archaically,” you continued softly.
“They think people with tattoos are somehow inherently bad.”
Changbin snorted. He’d experienced his fair share of those kinds of people. “And what do you think?” he asked, watching as you lifted your feet and spun around on the swing. “I think tattoos are a lot like accessories only you can’t change them or take them off easily,” you started, putting a foot down to stop your momentum.
“They don’t change a person. You are who you are with or without them,” you continued. “It’s just art but instead of being on a canvas, your skin is the canvas.” Changbin stared at you with new found appreciation. You looked up to meet his gaze, a small smile gracing your features.
Changbin opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.
“Y/N?” a voice called, making both of you look towards the source.
Changbin watched as your boyfriend, Joshua, walked towards the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Changbin to you and back. “Everything is fine,” you said, smiling at him. “We’ve just been talking,” you added. Joshua’s gaze shifted to Changbin again.
“Is that right?” he heard Joshua murmur. Either you didn’t hear Joshua or chose to ignore it, the smile on your face not faltering. “I’m heading home,” Joshua announced. “Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Changbin glanced at you as you got up from the swing.
You turned to face him. “Thank you for the talk,” you said, brushing off your skirt. Changbin nodded, smiling as you crossed the short distance where Joshua stood. “I’ll see you around,” you added, looking back over your shoulder at him. Changbin nodded. “See you around,” he said.
You took Joshua’s arm and allowed him to steer you towards the house as Changbin watched your figure disappear into the house. Jeongguk appeared moments later, jogging down the steps and walking over to where Changbin stood. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” he said.
Changbin shrugged. “You found me,” he joked. Jeongguk nodded, glancing back towards the house. “Were you out here with Y/N?” he asked, walking over and taking a seat on the swing. Changbin nodded silently. “Yeah,” he answered.
Jeongguk stared up at him, one of his brows raised. “It’s not like that,” Changbin said, rolling his eyes. “We were talking inside, she got hot so we came out here to cool off and get some fresh air.” Jeongguk nodded slowly, still giving Changbin a look. “Nothing happened,” Changbin clarified.
“Dude,” Jeongguk said, tattooed hands holding onto the rope. “She’s got a boyfriend.”
Changbin shrugged, gesturing wildly. “Nothing happened! We were talking!” Jeongguk nodded. “I know man. But you know how people are,” he replied. “They’re gonna talk. And you don’t want that kind of attention, trust me.” Changbin nodded, moving around behind Jeongguk and paused.
“You ready to go?” Jeongguk asked. “That Paxton chick was looking for you but I saw her making out with some dude in there like minutes before that.” Changbin nodded again, staring at Jeongguk’s back. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his hands from his pockets.
“I’m ready to go. I just need to do this first,” Changbin said. “Do what-YAH!”
Changbin pushed Jeongguk hard enough to cause him to slip off the wooden swing seat and onto the ground before he took off towards the house. “SEO CHANGBIN!” Jeongguk called as he clumsily got up and chased after him, Changbin giggling maniacally as he squeezed between the other partygoers.
“I’m heading out!” he called to Chris who looked up and nodded, waving at him with Lilah still perched on his lap. Changbin headed for the door as Jeongguk started to enter the kitchen. Changbin managed to make it out the front door and out onto the sidewalk as Jeongguk exited the house and made a beeline for him.
“Truce?” Changbin asked, backing away as his friend advanced on him. “Truce?!”
“No mercy,” Jeongguk said, trying to grab Changbin who managed to dodge and duck Jeongguk’s attempts before the older finally gave up. “You’re too small,” he whined as Changbin laughed, keeping pace with him as they walked away from the house.
“Too fast for you,” Changbin clarified. Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure,” he retorted.
“Too fast and short.”
Your walk with Joshua was mostly full of silence as you held onto his arm, thankful he matched your pace as you walked. The night was cool and the air crisp now that the sun had set. The sound of crickets still lingered as you walked through the mostly empty streets.
“So,” Joshua finally said, breaking the silence between you. “What were you doing outside with Changbin?” he asked. You looked at him, shrugging your shoulders. “We were just talking,” you answered. “We started talking inside the kitchen. He warned me that the punch bowl might have been spiked with something other than alcohol,” you added.
Joshua looked at you, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. You nodded and continued to speak. “Yeah, so he gave me an unopened can of soda and then we went outside cause I was feeling a little warm. Too many bodies in one room,” you added. “And we just talked.”
“What did you talk about?” You looked up at Joshua again, trying to discern the look on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely curious or if he was prying. Either way, you had nothing to hide from him.
“We talked about his tattoos,” you answered. “He asked if I had any and I told him no. We also talked about art.” Joshua nodded as you walked, mulling over your words. “Art, huh?” he asked more to himself than to you. “You know, the last thing I want to do is make you feel like you’re a child incapable of making your own choices,” Joshua started and you suddenly felt as if you should have lied.
“But I don’t like the idea of you and him alone together,” he continued. You held back what you really wanted to say, choosing instead to smooth over it. “We weren’t alone,” you reminded him. “There were plenty of other people outside.”
Joshua looked at you as the two of you neared your apartment building. “A bunch of drunk people,” he said as you slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Joshua,” you started, letting go of his arm and turning to face him. “I was fine. Chris and Lilah trust Changbin and I trust them, so why shouldn’t I trust Changbin?” you asked.
Joshua sighed, taking both your hands in his and pulled you closer. “I’m just looking out for you,” he replied, placing your arms around his waist and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t trust any man alone with you,” he added.
“Don’t trust them,” you started, pulling back to look up at him. “Or don’t trust me?”
Joshua clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, taking your face in his hands. “I don’t trust them,” he replied. “I trust you fully,” he added, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Then,” you said as he pulled back. “Trust me to handle myself,” you continued.
“I’m not a damsel in distress that you have to save all the time,” you reminded him.
“I’ll see you Sunday,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “After church?” he asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head. “I have to have dinner with my parents,” you explained. “I need to borrow one of their cars and the fee is dinner,” you added.
Joshua looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion.
“Why do you need to borrow one of their cars?” he asked. “I can take you anywhere you need to go, you know that,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know,” you chuckled, taking one of his hands and pulling it away from your face. “But you work Monday,” you reminded him.
“What’s Monday?” he asked, cocking his head. “Mr. Serizawa asked me to go to the next town over and pick up Daniel,” you explained. “Lilah is going with me so I won’t be making the drive alone.” Joshua nodded and sighed. “I wish you’d told me sooner. I would have requested it off,” he replied.
You smiled at him. “It’s alright,” you responded, pulling his other hand from your cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you added. “I’m just going to the ferry station to pick him up and then coming straight back, but it will take most of the day,” you continued. “Besides, a little road trip with Lilah should be fun.”
Joshua smiled and nodded. “Well, I suppose it’ll be okay. I’ll see you when you get back then? We could grab dinner, maybe watch a movie at my place?” he said, holding onto your hand as you climbed one step. “Sure,” you said, looking back at him. “Perfect,” he replied.
“Get some sleep,” he said as you took another step. “Hey,” he called, gently tugging your hand and making you look at him. “I love you,” he said, stepping up onto the bottom step. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his, following his lead as his lips parted and his tongue slipped into your mouth.
“I love you, too,” you replied as you pulled back. “Get some sleep, babe,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and letting go of your hand as you climbed the rest of the steps. “Goodnight,” you called, looking back as you reached the door. “Night, babe,” he replied as you unlocked the door and entered the building.
You headed up the stairs to your door, unlocking and letting yourself into your apartment. Tomorrow you’d tackle your chores since Sunday you had church and Monday morning you’d be leaving to go pick up Daniel.
You dropped your purse on the counter and shrugged off your jacket, draping it over the back of one of the island barstools. You sat on the couch, bending over to remove your shoes and stood up to take them to the door, making sure the door was locked.
You headed to your bedroom, slowly stripping out of your clothes and changing into something more comfortable. You headed back into the kitchen to grab a snack as you had left work and gone straight to the party without eating dinner.
While you ate, you scrolled your social media feeds on your phone before finally turning off all the lights and settling down for bed, leaving your phone on the charger on your nightstand. It didn’t take long after climbing into bed for you to pass out.
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It had been a couple days since the party and you had gone to your parents’ house after church the following Sunday for dinner and to ask your father to borrow a car to pick up Daniel. You’d sat through the usual interrogation that occurred, asking about your job, your relationship, and somehow your parents managed to swing the conversation around to Lilah.
You did your best to answer the questions as vaguely as possible. After agreeing to spend the night at your mother’s request, the next morning, you headed out, stopping at your place before driving over to pick up Lilah.
As you pulled up to Lilah’s building, you slipped your phone out of your purse and typed out a quick message. You knew Lilah could sometimes take a moment to answer or even read her messages but as you looked up from your phone, you were surprised to see Lilah already walking towards you.
She waved as she got into view. You waved back, putting your phone in the holder on the dashboard as Lilah opened the door and got in. She smiled as he set her bag on the floorboard behind your seat and started to buckle her seatbelt as you put in the address for the ferry station.
“Hey,” Lilah said as the seatbelt clicked in place. “Hey,” you replied pressing the start button on your phone navigation. “How was dinner with your parents?” Lilah asked as you put the car in gear and pulled out of your parking space.
“It was… dinner with my parents,” you replied with a slight chuckle. “Did they grill you about your job again?” You nodded as you drove, following the road that led to the highway. “As usual,” you added. Lilah shook her head as she settled into her seat.
“And did they ask when you and Joshua are getting married?” You glanced at Lilah and your expression said everything. “Of course they did,” she scoffed as you continued to follow the signs for the highway. “Why do they always ask that? It’s not like you’re in a big rush to get married and settle down,” she added. “This isn’t the nineteen-fifties. You don’t need to be married with kids by the time you’re thirty.”
You hummed in agreement as you turned onto the highway and started to speed up to merge with traffic.
“You know how they are,” you replied. “I’m sure Joshua is getting the same treatment.”
Lilah snorted as she pulled out her phone and started fiddling with the bluetooth settings of the car.
“Yeah, well Joshua has always been a bit… old-fashioned.”
You glanced at your best friend as she focused on pairing her phone.
“And what does that make me?” you asked softly.
Lilah didn’t look up as her phone connected and she started playing her music. “You know how I feel about your relationship with Josh,” she said softly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. You sighed softly as you changed lanes to go around a van crawling ahead of you. “I know,” you replied.
An awkward silence settled between you as Lilah turned the music up a bit.
She had always made her thoughts about Joshua known, especially after she and Seungcheol split and now that Joshua was starting to show more controlling tendencies. You understood and appreciated her concern but you knew you could handle your boyfriend when it came down to it.
“So,” you finally said, wanting to change the subject. “Tell me about this new tattoo you’re getting.”
It seemed to be the right call on your part, asking Lilah about tattoos always put her in a much better mood. She started off showing you pictures of the inspiration of the tattoo she was getting. She explained the details, even the minute ones. She finally showed you a drawing of the final design and explained the colors and shading that would be used.
“It sounds really cool,” you said as she put her phone back in the console. “I love the flowers.”
Lilah’s smile widened. “You wanna go with me to my appointment?” It wasn’t uncommon for Lilah to ask this and more than once you’d gone with her to get piercings but you’d never been to one of her tattoo appointments. “When is it?”
“Wednesday,” she replied, watching you as you contemplated. “I’m not off until six on Wednesday,” you explained. Lilah nodded. “It’s at seven,” she offered, hoping it might sway your decision. “It’ll take a few hours but you’re off on Thursdays,” she continued.
You felt the corners of your lips twitch as a smirk threatened to spread across your face. “I didn’t realize you had my schedule memorized,” you replied to which Lilah let out a laugh. “You’re my best friend,” she started as the song on the stereo changed. “Of course I know your schedule.”
You grimaced but said nothing. You thought about the conversation you’d had with Joshua the night of the party. He didn’t trust Changbin to be around you alone so surely being surrounded by people at the tattoo shop was fine.
Then again, you suspected it was really you Joshua didn’t trust though you couldn’t fathom why. You’d never so much as thought about another man since you started dating him. You’d never entertained the thought of cheating nor would you ever.
You were loyal.
“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Lilah’s voice snapped you out of it. You blinked rapidly and looked over at her quickly. “Sorry,” you replied. “What did you say?”
Lilah settled back against her seat. “I asked if you want to go with me to my appointment after you get off work,” she repeated. You nibbled on your bottom lip, checking your mirrors before changing lanes to go around yet another slow moving vehicle.
“Fine,” you finally answered, switching back into the lane in front of the truck. “I’ll go with you but I’m not getting anything and I expect you to respect that,” you added. Lilah nodded excitedly. “I’m just glad you’re going with me!” she said, grabbing her phone and changing the music.
“For moral support,” you explained. “That’s all.”
The first hour of the trip was spent listening to music, chatting. Lilah told you about the progress of her situation with Chris, keeping you up-to-date on all the juicy gossip among her friend group. You didn’t care much for gossip but you knew Lilah and how much she loved it so you let her carry on.
“Which reminds me,” she said as she finished telling you about Ari’s mishap at the party where she fell going up the steps with Minho. “Where did you go?” she asked. You glanced at her before looking back at the road. “When?” you asked.
“During the party,” Lilah asked. “Ari and Minho went upstairs to hook up in one of the many rooms,” she stated. “Hana spent the whole night outside in the hot tub, Paxton says she hooked up with Changbin--” you snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” she asked.
You glanced at her and then back at the road, fighting the urge to laugh. “She’s lying,” you replied.
Lilah eyed you suspiciously. “How do you know?” she asked. “I mean, I did see her making out with a guy that looked an awful lot like him,” she said, watching as you burst into laughter. “When does she say this hook up occurred?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably around the time you disappeared.” You laughed again.
“She may have hooked up with a guy,” you said as you kept your eyes on the road. “But it certainly wasn’t Changbin,” you added. Lilah narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?” she asked. “Cause he was with me outside,” you replied.
Lilah’s jaw dropped.” You got in the hot tub in your skivvies and didn’t tell me?!” she yelled. You looked at her incredulously. “Okay first of all, never say skivvies again,” you started, laughing. “And second, no,” you continued. “Changbin stopped me from drinking the punch and gave me a can of soda and we started talking.”
Lilah watched you as you continued to explain. “And then I got warm inside the kitchen so we went outside to get some fresh air and continued our talk. We were over by the garden. And then Joshua came up and I left with him,” you explained.
“Changbin was with you the whole time?” Lilah asked and you nodded. “So unless he went back in and hooked up with her after, which I doubt because he told me he doesn’t even really like her, she’s either lying or she doesn’t remember who she really hooked up with.”
Lilah let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Changbin told you he doesn’t like her?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah. He said he also doesn’t really like Hana,” you continued. Lilah sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Is there anyone he does like?” she wondered and you shrugged.
“Maybe stop trying to set him up with your friends and let him do his own thing?” you asked and Lilah clicked her tongue. “That’s no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms before she gasped. “What?” you asked, looking around. “I have an amazing idea!” she said, bouncing in her seat.
You groaned. “I thought you saw something,” you whined. “Don’t do that gasping thing when I’m driving!” Lilah grimaced. “Sorry, but wait until you hear this idea!” she said, sitting forward. “I have the perfect match for Changbin!”
You turned to look at her. “We just talked about this Lilah!” you admonished. “Leave the poor man be!” Lilah shook her head. “I can’t. This pairing is just too perfect!” she said, pulling her phone out and scrolling through it. “I know this girl. I think she’d be perfect for him.”
You sighed as you continued to drive. ‘Poor Changbin.’
The next two hours were spent listening to music until you stopped at a small town to get coffee and something to eat now that you were both more awake and hungry. “Look at her,” Lilah said, showing you a picture of a really pretty girl with a pale complexion. She had split colored hair, half blonde and the other half black.
In the picture her hair was curled in soft waves reaching her shoulders, half of it pulled up into a high ponytail with strands framing her face. She had makeup similar to the style Lilah wore, graphic liner, heavy blush on her cheeks and nose, highlighter, false lashes, but she differed in that she wore nude pink lip colors.
She was covered in ink, tattoos decorating her chest, shoulders, and arms. She had multiple nose piercings, an upper lip piercing, stretched ears and multiple cartilage piercings. She had a slim waist with curves.
She wore a high waisted black pleated skirt with black fishnets and combat boots. The shirt was black with white stripes and a tiny green alien peeking out of a small pocket on the chest tucked into the skirt. Half her curled hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, strands falling and framing her face.
“She’s pretty,” you noted with a nod. Lilah swiped to another picture. “She’s an instagram model too,” she explained, showing you the next picture. It was of the same girl kneeling on a bed, wearing a high waisted black thong with lace and a cropped shirt with a Mario star on it. She had extensions in her hair, part of it pulled up into twintails, the rest cascading in waves.
She wore a pink headset with kitty ears, white thigh highs with pink bows and in her hands was a gaming controller. You said nothing, instead nodding as you waited for your food to be ready. “She’s really cool,” Lilah said, fawning over her phone.
You watched as she scrolled a bit more and showed you a few more pictures before asking for your opinion. “Do you think he’d like her?” she asked. You looked at your best friend. “Why are you asking me?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I thought maybe since he told you what he didn’t like, he might have told you what he does like.” You snorted, shaking your head.
“Most certainly not,” you replied. Lilah sighed, returning her attention to her phone. “I’ll ask her if she’s interested anyway.” You said nothing again, instead focusing on the barista as she bagged up your food and grabbed your coffees.
Back in the car, you ate your sandwich quickly while Lilah fiddled with her phone, exchanging messages. “She’s interested!” she said excitedly. “She wants me to send a picture of Changbin. Should I just take one from his insta?” she asked, looking up at you.
You shrugged, wanting to stay out of it. “Do you have any pictures of him on your phone?” you asked. Lilah stared at you unblinkingly. “Why would I have pictures of him on my phone?” she asked. You shrugged again. Lilah fiddled with her phone. “I think Chris follows him,” she murmured, searching through Chris’ follow list.
You started the engine and pulled out of your parking space, pulling onto the road and making your way back to the highway as Lilah searched for Changbin’s account. “Shit, it’s private,” she hissed. “And that’s bad?” you asked as Lilah grabbed your phone, unlocking it with your passcode.
“How do you know my passcode?” you asked incredulously. “It’s not like it’s a secret,” she said, looking up at you. “It’s your dead dog’s birthday,” she reminded you. “Isn’t yours Chris’ birthday?” you asked, eyeing her. She stuck her tongue out at you as she pulled up instagram, going into the search bar.
“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your eyes on the road and on her at the same time. “I’m gonna follow him from your account,” she said nonchalantly. “What?” you shouted, reaching for your phone. “Hey, hey!” she shouted, shielding your phone from you.
“Eyes on the road, maniac!” she added, pointing at the road. “Why can’t you follow him from your account?” you asked angrily. “You follow his tattoo page, don’t you? And you follow the shop!” Lilah ignored you, typing in Changbin’s name. “I don’t follow either!” you added.
“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m making you follow them all right now,” she added with a mischievous grin. You tried to snatch your phone again only for her to pull away. “You’ll crash if you keep doing that,” she retorted.
You checked the mirrors before pulling over and parking the car.
“What are you--”
You reached over and snatched your phone, looking at the screen. “You’re literally insane,” you said as you made sure she wasn’t able to follow any of the accounts through your phone before opening your settings and changing your passcode, shielding the screen from her.
“Y/N!” Lilah pouted as you locked your phone and set it in the console. “Use your own account,” you replied, putting the car back in drive and slowly pulling forward to pull back onto the highway. Lilah grumbled as she grabbed her phone and tapped away on the screen.
The next couple hours went by without issue, mostly listening to music as Lilah texted back and forth with a few people. “He followed me back,” Lilah announced as you followed the signs for the ferry station. You were getting close to the coastal town. “He doesn’t have many pictures on here,” she said as she scrolled. “Which one should I send?” she asked as you got off the highway and came to a stop at the light.
You glanced at the phone and she showed two different pictures.
The first looked more recent. It looked as though he’d just woken up, his hair was messy and curly. ‘Is that what his hair naturally looks like?’ you wondered silently. His tattoos were visible and he was wearing his signature fitted black tee shirt.
The other picture was older. His hair was a completely different color. It almost didn’t look like him. His hair was styled and he wore a black suit with a red tie. He looked amazing. His hand tattoos were missing and you wondered how old the photo was.
“The first one,” you answered. “It looks more recent,” you added. Lilah nodded, looking back down as she took a screenshot of the picture and you waited for the light to change. The drive through the sleepy seaside town was quiet, most people were at work or school as you drove, winding down the side of the mountain. In the distance you could see the ocean, waves crashing into the sandy beach.
You pulled into the ferry station parking lot with some time to kill and parked the car. “Let’s go get some pictures,” Lilah said excitedly. You grabbed your jacket from the backseat and got out, locking the doors and pulling on your jacket as Lilah pulled her hood up over her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. You followed behind her, checking the time on your phone before pocketing the device and rushing to catch up with your best friend.
The look out over the ocean gave a spectacular view and you could see an island not far from shore. “You want to go down to the shore?” Lilah asked over the wind. You nodded and followed her down the steps leading to the shore. The sand was unlike what you expected. Less like sand and more like stones. Pebbles. You were glad you chose to wear sneakers and were sure Lilah was faring just as well in her boots. “Look!” Lilah called, hurrying over to a spot and kneeling down.
You followed her and leaned over her back as she unearthed a rather large piece of sea glass. “Whoa,” you said as she lifted it to reveal another piece under it. You reached down, grabbing the second piece, revealing yet another piece of sea glass.
“It’s like a rabbit hole,” you murmured, picking up the other piece. “These are so cool,” Lilah said, looking over the piece in her hands. You looked down at it. She held a black piece with tiny white flecks from who knows how many years spent in the sea water.
It was shaped like a shark fin, smooth and rounded at all three points and flat. “I wonder what this is,” Lilah said, flipping it over to look at the other side. “It’s glass,” you pointed out. Lilah looked up at the pieces in your hands. A bright pink and a deep purple, both frosted like hers.
“What kind of glass is black?” she asked, looking back down at hers. You held out your hand, lifting to inspect the glass she placed in your palm. “It’s probably from a really old bottle,” you started, handing her the pink and purple to inspect.
You held the black up towards the sky, tilting and turning it. “It’s green,” you stated. “Along the edges, it’s hard to see without the light,” you explained. “It’s probably from really old beer or gin bottles,” you added, handing it back to her, taking the pink and purple from her.
“What about those?” Lilah asked, nodding at your hands. “The pink is probably from the Great Depression era,” you noted. “Pink glassware was common during that time period because it was decorative but extremely cheap,” you explained, looking at the pink piece.
“The purple,” you began, shifting your gaze to it. It was a deep rich purple color, frosted just like the others due to exposure and time spent in the ocean. “Probably came from purple glass. Between 1840 and 1880, hair tonics were commonly sold in amethyst bottles,” you explained, turning the piece over. “But it could very well be glass made with manganese.”
Lilah stared at you as you looked over the glass. “What’s that?” she asked. “Venetian glassmakers discovered they could neutralize the color caused by imperfections in glass by adding manganese to the sand and create clear glass,” you explained, handing over the purple piece.
“But over time, the glass will turn purple when exposed to ultraviolet rays,” you continued, looking down at the ground, searching for more glass. “I’ve heard sea glass glows under a black light,” Lilah said, looking up to watch you explore. “Is that true?” she asked.
You shook your head, pushing some pebbles aside and unearthing another black piece of sea glass. “No,” you replied. “Uranium glass glows under black light,” you replied, digging out the piece and holding it up. ‘More green edges,’ you noted.
“Uranium glass has uranium added to the glass before melting,” you explained. “It produces green glass that then glows under a black light,” you continued. “That’s so cool,” Lilah said as she watched you dig in the pebbles. “How do you know all this?” she asked.
“We’ve gotten a lot of different glass types in the shop,” you said, looking up. “Including an entire tea set made from uranium glass,” you added. You managed to find a few more pieces of sea glass ranging from blue to clear but no more purple or pink.
You stood up, brushing your hands off as a horn sounded in the distance and both you and Lilah turned to see the ferry in the distance. “Let’s go,” you said softly, leading the way back to the steps. You and Lilah had found a decent amount of sea glass and pocketed it to take back home.
Back up at the station, you and Lilah huddled close to the building to avoid the wind that had picked up. “Fuck! I should have worn sweat,” you cursed and Lilah laughed, huddling closer. “Would they hurry up and disembark already?” she snapped.
Finally it seemed like the wait was over and the gates opened, passengers making their way off the boat. This early in the morning you didn’t expect so many passengers but it sort of made sense. People making the earliest commute possible.
You spotted Daniel and waved, calling out to him. He spotted you and a smile spread across his face, weaving through the other passengers until he reached you, pulling you into a hug. He’d grown taller, nearing almost six feet. “Jii-chan said you were coming so I was really excited to see you,” he said as he let you go. “You got taller,” you noted, making him laugh.
He turned, noticing Lilah. “Lilah?” he asked, almost shocked to see her. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, pulling her into a hug as well. “Y/N asked me to keep her company on the drive out here,” she replied. “And she annoyed me the whole way here,” you added, dodging Lilah’s attempt to slap your arm.
Daniel was amused by your antics as he followed you two back to the car, listening and laughing as you bickered back and forth. Once his luggage was put in the trunk and the three of you inside, strapped in, you put the car in drive and pulled carefully out of the parking lot.
You asked Daniel about his time in Busan and Jeju.
“It was amazing!” he said excitedly. “We went to the aquarium in Busan and hung out on the beach most of the time,” he explained, going into further detail, describing the beach. “And then in Jeju, we went to their aquarium and we also went hiking. So much hiking!”
You smiled as he went on. “And then, since we finished our itinerary early, we took the ferry to Japan,” he continued. You nodded, glancing up in the mirror at him. “That would explain why your grandfather asked me to pick you up at the ferry station and not the airport or bus station,” you mused.
“Tell me about Japan,” Lilah said, turning in her seat to look at Daniel.
You listened to him tell his stories of Fukuoka and the surrounding areas. He talked about the food, what the group did, and even showed pictures on his phone of him and his friends.
“It sounds like you had a really good time,” you said after listening to him go on for almost an hour. He nodded as Lilah took his phone to look at a photo of him and his friends. She swiped to the next photo and let out a yell. Daniel noticed and tried to grab his phone but Lilah held it out of his reach.
“Who is this?” she asked, looking at a picture of just Daniel and a girl. She showed you. It was very pretty girl you recognized him meeting with for study sessions. “Is that Kari?” you asked, taking your eyes off the road briefly to get a better look.
“Give it back,” Daniel protested, trying to grab his phone from Lilah. “She’s cute!” Lilah remarked as she swiped through a few more photos of Daniel and Kari. “Will you stop it!” Daniel grumbled, fighting to regain control of his phone but Lilah swiped again and gasped.
“What?” you asked, glancing between her and the road. She showed you the phone and it was a picture of the two, Daniel was taking the photo and Kari had her head turned kissing his cheek. “Daniel!” you said, sounding scandalized. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pulled his beanie down over his face.
“Dannie’s got a girlfriend!” Lilah said in a singsong voice as she looked at more photos. Daniel groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, Dannie,” you said, making him peek out from under his hat. “I won’t tell your grandparents.”
He sat up, readjusting his beanie and waited, watching Lilah before he made his move, snatching his phone back. “Yah! I was looking at pictures of you and your girlfriend,” she whined. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he clarified. “We haven’t even been on a date.”
“Then change that,” Lilah said, turning to look back at him. “Ask her out. Go to the bowling alley or something else. Something you kids find fun these days.” You glanced at her. “You kids?” you asked her and she shrugged. “He’s in high school,” you added. “He’s not twelve.”
“Take her to the fall festival,” you suggested. “That’s coming up soon.” Daniel shook his head, not looking up. “I can’t ask her out,” he murmured. “And why the hell not?” Lilah asked, turning to look back at him. “Because,” Daniel said softly. “You saw her,” he added. “She’s gorgeous.”
Lilah scoffed and you snapped your fingers. “Look up,” you said. “Look at me Daniel.”
He looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are an extremely intelligent, funny, and good looking guy. Kari would be an idiot to say no to you,” you said in a firm but gentle tone. “And if she says no, I’ll kick her butt,” Lilah added. “She’s a minor,” you said incredulously. “You can’t beat up a minor, Lilah!”
Daniel smiled as the two of you bickered. “Thanks, you two,” he said softly.
The next hour passed quickly as Daniel told Lilah more about Japan and what Fukuoka was like. You listened, keeping your eyes on the road as you drove. Another hour in, you glanced down at the gas gauge and sighed. “I gotta make a stop,” you announced, pulling off the highway at the next exit.
“We’re running low on gas.”
Daniel and Lilah continued to chat as you filled up, both of them heading into the convenience store. While the pump worked, you pulled out your phone, checking your notifications. You had a couple texts from Joshua, asking how the trip was going.
You texted him back before noticing another notification from Instagram. You had a new follower and opened the app. Your eyes widened as you read the username, tapping on the profile and your lips parted in a soft gasp. Changbin had found and followed your account.
Your thumb hovered over the follow back button before tapping it quickly as Lilah and Daniel headed back to the car. You pocketed your phone as the pump switched off and took the nozzle out of the tank, placing it back in the cradle.
Getting back in the car, you set your phone in the console, buckling your seatbelt and Lilah and Daniel divided up their snack haul. “We got you something to drink and some snacks as well,” Daniel said as he pulled a bottle of soda out of the bag and set it in one of the cup holders.
“Thanks,” you said softly as you started the engine and pulled out of the gas station parking lot, following the signs to get back on the highway.
As you drove, you tuned out Lilah and Daniel’s conversation, instead mulling over the notification you’d gotten from Instagram about Changbin’s personal account. How did he find you? Had Lilah gotten through before you grabbed your phone?
You glanced over at your best friend, meeting her gaze. “What?” she asked softly.
You shook your head and looked straight ahead. “What?” Lilah asked again. It took a couple more minutes for Lilah to pry it out of you.
“Did you like one of Changbin’s pictures on my account or something earlier?” you asked softly. Lilah’s confused expression morphed into one of excitement. “No,” she answered. “Why? Did he follow you?” she asked excitedly. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at her.
“What did you do?” you hissed, not noticing how Daniel leaned forward between the two of you.
“Who is Changbin?” he asked suddenly, making both you and Lilah jump. You glanced at his curious expression. “No one,” you said quickly, hoping Lilah would drop the subject but when you looked at her, a mischievous grin had taken up residence on her face.
“Don’t,” you warned her. “I just want to know why he followed me.”
Lilah laughed excitedly, grabbing your phone. “What did you change your passcode to?” she asked as she stared at the screen. “It’s none of your damn business,” you retorted, snatching your phone from her hands only for her to pout at you.
“I just need screenshots of his pictures to send to Riley,” she grumbled as you set your phone in the pocket on the driver’s side door, far from her reach. “I told you,” you replied as you continued to drive. “Follow him from your own account.”
“And what would Chris think?” Lilah asked, crossing her arms. “Uh, that’s you’re following your tattoo artist on instagram who you also happen to be friends with?” you offered. Lilah scoffed. “You’re no fun,” she mumbled as she sank down in her seat.
“Is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Daniel asked, making you and Lilah glance back at him. You’d partially forgotten he was there as you and Lilah bickered about Changbin and his instagram account. “Who is Changbin?”
Lilah turned to look back at him, turning in her seat. “He’s new to Sejong,” Lilah explained. “He just moved here and opened a tattoo shop on Market,” she continued. “And why are you following his instagram from Y/N’s account?” Daniel asked slowly.
“Because I need pictures of him to send to this girl I know who is interested in him!”
You sighed as you followed the signs for Sejong. “Despite the fact that he didn’t like either girl you threw at him before,” you interjected. “Changbin isn’t a wall that you throw girls at like pasta and expect them to stick. Let the poor guy settle into Sejong, let him figure things out for himself.”
Lilah’s lips curled up into a devious smirk. “You like him, don’t you?” she asked. Your eyes widened and you turned to look back at her. “What?” you asked incredulously. “I knew it!” Lilah said excitedly, sitting up quickly. “You like him!” Daniel looked between you and Lilah quickly, eyes wide.
“Lilah,” you said sternly. “I have a boyfriend.” Lilah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, a shit one,” she murmured. You reached out, smacking her arm. “Ow!” she exclaimed, holding the spot you hit. “Don’t start that shit again,” you snapped. “Joshua isn’t perfect,” you continued. “None of us are.”
You stared at her pointedly. Lilah conceded and sunk back into her seat. “Fine,” she groaned. “So, this Changbin guy,” Daniel asked, leaning forward, breaking the tension. “What kind of ink does he do?”
The rest of the ride, Lilah showed Daniel pictures on Changbin’s professional instagram, showing off his previous work and explaining the tattoo she commissioned from him. You listened as you drove. The sun had started to set as you reached the outskirts of Sejong, driving through town and heading for the Serizawa’s house. Daniel had wanted to come back and stay a few days with his grandparents before moving back into the apartment above the shop.
“Thank you so much again,” Daniel said as he leaned down to peer into your window, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It was good to see you, Lilah,” he added. Your best friend leaned forward, smiling at him. “You too, Danny,” she replied. Daniel turned his attention back to you.
“I’ll see you at the shop,” he said and you nodded. “See you later,” you replied as he waved and headed for the front door of his grandparents’ house. You waited, watching to make sure he made it in safely before driving off and making your way to Lilah’s building. The ride was silent as you followed the memorized route.
“I’m sorry,” Lilah said, her soft voice punctuating the silence. “For what I said about Josh,” she clarified. “I know I should stay out of it,” she continued. “But I can’t help it. Not when I see how he treats you from the outside.” You pulled to a stop outside her building.
“He’s too controlling,” she added. “I know you care about me,” you started, turning to look at her. “But please trust me when I say I can handle it. I know how to handle my boyfriend,” you added. “If I need help, you will be the first to know.” Lilah nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning over the center console to pull you into a tight hug.
“You’re still coming to my tattoo appointment, right?” she asked as she pulled back, making sure to grab her bag and things from the cupholders. You nodded. “Of course,” you replied as she opened the door and got out, leaning over to look at you through the open window. “You promise?” she asked.
You nodded again with a smile.
“I promise.”
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Wednesday came much faster than you were expecting. Lilah had asked the days leading up to the appointment if you were still going with her and you kept reassuring her you’d go. It wasn’t like you hadn’t attended her appointments before, you had. So why she was so adamant about you attending this one was lost on you. Until you showed up to White Lotus Studio.
Lilah had insisted on you meeting her at the shop instead of going there together. You didn’t really question it since you only had an hour after getting off work to go home, change and meet her. You didn’t really need to change but you preferred to.
The walk to the shop didn’t take long and soon you were walking up to the door, stepping aside as a couple of patrons exited, chatting excitedly about whatever work they’d gotten done. Lilah was seated inside on one of the black armchairs you’d sold Changbin as you crossed the threshold into the building. It seemed to be a busy day, each station was occupied.
Minho was sitting on a black stool, working on the leg of a man you’d seen briefly at some of the parties Lilah brought you to. In the same space, Chris was explaining jewelry options to a girl who was getting her ears pierced for the first time, her friends crowded around her but staring at Chris instead of the jewelry.
You walked over to Lilah who was talking to Hana and looked up in time to catch a glimpse of Changbin through a glass window. He was talking to a client, no doubt explaining something related to the tattoo he’d just done as he wrapped it. Your eyes lingered a moment longer as you really studied him.
You’d only ever seen him outside the studio in social settings. Parties, the club, and your work. You never saw him in his own element before. He looked much more confident in this setting.
You tore your gaze away before he caught you staring and smiled as you moved to sit on the ottoman across from Lilah. Your best friend smiled widely, leaning forward to pull you into an awkward hug. “You made it!” she said happily. You chuckled as she let go and nodded. “I said I would,” you replied.
You turned to Hana, nodding politely. Hana returned the gesture and then went back to her phone, thumbs tapping on the screen. You took the lapse in conversation to look around the shop. It was a completely different space from what you remembered. The walls were mostly an off-white color except for a bump out that was painted entirely black with a massive tiger painted.
The decal was impressive and looked imposing and intimidating, as if the tiger was leaping from the wall. Whoever had painted it was incredibly talented. Behind Lilah was a counter, behind which Paxton stood. She threw a dirty look your way but you ignored it. You were here for Lilah and if Paxton didn’t like it, that wasn’t your fault.
The front of the counter was glass, showing off a vast array of jewelry for all types of piercings. Bright lights mounted to the underside of the counter top made the gems in some of the pieces sparkle. You looked away at the black velvet sofa. You wondered where Changbin had gotten it as it was almost a perfect match to the armchairs.
Behind the sofa, on the same wall as the tiger bump out, large rectangular planters stood behind the sofa, dark bamboo stood against the wall in contrast with the paint.
You looked towards the front of the shop, a low console table, also painted black with a matte finish and glass surface, stood under the large box window with books sitting atop the surface. The box window had a small collection of decorations in it, a few small statues of buddha, a dragon perched atop its treasure hoard, a golden lucky cat waving at anyone who passed by.
The rooms were separated by half walls with large glass windows, the doorways were open square arches. The walls inside each room were different in the decor and decals. In the room Minho and Chris were working, a dragon decal had been painted in the center of the wall, lined up with the door. A neon sign, green in color, hung on the wall next to the dragon displaying the name of a brewery in town.
There was a backlit shadow box with comic strips framed and spaced evenly from top to bottom.
You looked away from the room, taking note of the light wood floor with pale ashy tones, the black and gray ornamental rug that filled the lobby area was stunning and the patterns very intricate. You wondered if Changbin knew about the history of the rug and if so, you’d love to hear about it.
Changbin had gotten so used to the sound of the bell that he almost didn’t hear it anymore, especially when he was in the middle of an appointment with a client but whenever the tattoo gun wasn’t in his hand, he paid more attention.
Looking up as the bell rang, he saw two patrons leaving, both having been serviced by Chris. Changbin was about to return his gaze to the client who was currently counting bills when his heart skipped a beat. You had just walked in, politely bowing to the clients who were leaving.
It had been several days since Changbin had last seen you at the house party Chris and Minho had invited him and Jeongguk to. You looked just as radiant as ever. You wore a light pink jacket over a flowy cream colored dress where the hem fell just above your knees.
The tights you wore with the ensemble were nude with a swirly floral pattern. You’d paired the look with black suede pumps with straps which brought out the black details of the dress. A thin black ribbon tie at the high neck, black buttons that went up the front of the bust. It was a simple look but you made it look anything but simple. Every time Changbin saw you, somehow you always managed to look so well put together. It was clear you spent a lot of time picking out your outfits and planning things.
From your outfit to your makeup and hair. It was a huge contrast to your best friend who Changbin had noticed was wearing high waisted black cut-off jean shorts, a black tank tucked in and a black oversized cardigan. She wore black combat boots much like Changbin and it never managed to surprise him how different the two of you were.
Like night and day.
Changbin smiled as his client handed him a wad of cash, thanking him for the newest work on his calf before exiting. Changbin quickly counted the money, moving over to the counter and opening the top drawer where he kept his built-in safe, carefully putting in the code and opening the door. He separated a few of the larger bills before adding the cash to the safe, closing it up and tucking the rest in his wallet.
He went about cleaning up his station to set up for the next appointment, trying not to look out the window where he could only see the top of your head. He could faintly hear you talking to Lilah but couldn’t make out what the two of you were talking about.
He picked up the spray bottle on the counter and gave the chair a few sprays, quickly wiping the surface down. He moved about his station, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as he gathered the supplies he would need for Lilah’s tattoo. Once he had the basics, he exited the room, popping over to Jeongguk’s station to check on his progress.
He then left the room and walked into the lobby. He noticed how you were looking around, no doubt inspecting his choice in decor. He suddenly felt self-conscious. How would you perceive him through his design choices? Were you impressed or underwhelmed?
He shook his head, and walked over to where you and Lilah sat. “You ready?” he asked, taking note how you didn’t seem to hear him as he spoke to your best friend. She nodded and Changbin beckoned her to follow him.
As you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the rug, Lilah stood up and snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come on, spacey,” she joked and you got up, following her back and into the room. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized Changbin was the only artist in the room. It then dawned on you that Changbin was going to be doing her tattoo.
Lilah hopped up on the chair and pulled out her phone, connecting her head phones to the device and leaving one ear free. “Just the line work today, right?” Changbin asked as you stood awkwardly by the doorway. Your eyes raked over his form, taking in his outfit of the day.
He was wearing another fitted black tee tucked into black cargo pants with the cuffs of his pants tucked into his signature black combat boots. His hair had been straightened and styled, showing his forehead. He had a simple silver chain around his neck. It seemed that this was kind of his go to outfit.
Changbin turned slightly to glance your way before chuckling to himself. “You know you can sit down, right?” he asked, nodding at the chair near the chair Lilah was sitting on. You murmured a thanks and walked over to the chair, removing your jacket and sitting down
You glanced around the room, taking in the features. Changbin’s station was the only one in the room. The same floor ran through this room as the rest of the shop. The walls were the same off white with a custom made neon sign in the shape of a lotus hanging above the counter top that ran the length of the wall opposite the doorway.
The countertop was black quartz, the cabinets below the same off white as the walls with gold hardware. The chair Lilah sat on was a bright red leather with an adjustable headrest, arm rests, foot rest and heavy circular base. The entire chair looked fully adjustable and quite comfortable.
Changbin was looking over supplies sitting on a silver rolling tray. Various tools and equipment sat before him. He had a few small ink pods waiting to be used. You continued to scan the items, noticing he had two pairs of black gloves. ‘Two pairs?’ you wondered to yourself.
A stool, at least you thought it was a stool, sat near him. It looked like a small chair with a back and arm rests but the arm rests were backwards, sticking out from either side of the back of the stool. You looked away from the equipment to the artists as Changbin moved over to the counter and opened a drawer, grabbing a small clear bag of black rubber bands and shutting the drawer before he walked back over to Lilah.
“If we can knock out the shading this time too, that’ll save you another session,” he said softly as he looked up. Lilah glanced over at you. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer?” she asked. Changbin turned to look at you as well. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “It’s your appointment,” you added with a smile towards your friend.
She beamed and nodded as Changbin turned away. “Alright,” he said moving to the side of the chair and you watched as he pushed a button and the leg rest started to raise, splitting in half. “Is the headrest in a good spot?” he asked as he finished raising the leg rest. Lilah nodded and scooted back into the seat and got comfortable. Changbin moved back over to the tray, using his toe to pull the stool closer.
You watched as he sat on it, the backrest in front of him. “You can move closer,” he commented towards you as he grabbed a glove and pulled it on before putting the other on. You realized your chair had wheels and you slowly scooted forward, moving closer to Lilah as Changbin prepared the tattoo gun.
You didn’t pay much attention to the process as it looked extremely complicated but it was still fascinating to watch. Changbin rolled closer, bringing his tray with him. You watched as he prepped Lilah’s skin, wiping the area with a cotton pad and taking a brand new disposable razor.
You watched with rapt attention as he prepared the area, shaving any hair and wiped the skin again. Once he was ready, Changbin grabbed the stencil he’d prepared and placed it on Lilah’s thigh. He pressed it firmly against her skin, making sure it stuck before peeling the paper away.
“Check the placement,” he said softly, waiting patiently as Lilah hopped up and walked over to the mirror to check it out. “Perfect,” she said excitedly, returning to the chair. Changbin nodded and moved into position. Once he got started, you watched him work.
He didn’t speak much as he worked, focusing instead on tracing the lines of the stencil. You’d been to a few of Lilah’s appointments before but most of the tattoos you’d witness her get were smaller. This was the largest piece you’d seen her get.
It was a large lion’s head, mouth open in a silent roar. You continued to watch silently as Changbin worked, finding the constant hum of the tattoo gun comforting. You glanced up to see Lilah had her eyes shut, mouthing to lyrics to whatever song she was listening to.
The song playing over the speaker of the shop’s intercom was a familiar one, you’d heard Lilah play from her playlist before. It was a heavy rock piece with a lot of drumming. It wasn’t your favorite kind of music but you didn’t mind it. You watched the tattoo take shape slowly, watching the way Changbin worked slowly but diligently. He clearly didn’t like to rush things, something you could appreciate.
After he’d managed to get half of the lines done, you looked up, hearing footsteps behind you. You turned back to Changbin. “Do you mind if I look around?” you asked softly. He glanced up briefly before shaking his head. “Just don’t get in anyone’s way,” he said with a slight smile.
You got up, leaving your jacket and purse in the chair and headed out of the doorway. Across from the room Changbin was set up in was a larger room with two stations in it. The one near the door was empty but the other station had Jeongguk, sitting in a similar stool as Changbin. He was working on an arm tattoo. The client was a young woman, maybe around Lilah’s age.
Her arm was resting on what you assumed was a separate arm rest, inside of the forearm exposed as Jeongguk colored in the line work of a tattoo you assumed he previously had done. His style was much different than Changbin’s but the tattoo was still just as intricate and beautiful.
It was an hourglass design inside a compass. You apologized softly when Jeongguk glanced at you. “I’m just curious to see what everyone else is doing,” you added. Jeongguk smiled and shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “I don’t mind spectators,” he added with a chuckle.
After watching a couple more minutes, you left the room and peeked in to see the progress of Lilah’s tattoo. Changbin had almost completely finished the lines. You decided to check the other room. Paxton was no longer behind the counter and was instead coming back from the back of the shop.
You turned to look into the room Minho and Chris were in. Minho was still working on the same tattoo as before while Chris now had Hana in his seat. You leaned against the frame, offering a polite smile to Hana who surprisingly returned it. Chris glanced back and smiled widely.
“Lilah still getting her piece done?” he asked to which you nodded. “I’m just looking around. The boss said I could,” you added with an amused tone. Minho glanced up before going back to his work. You walked over, making sure to stay a reasonable distance away.
The tattoo he was working on was a traditional style dragon with clouds behind it. The lines were thicker than the lines on Lilah’s piece but you could tell it was intentional. “You spying on me?” Minho joked as he glanced back at you. Shaking your head, you moved a little closer. “Admiring your work,” you replied.
Minho chuckled and continued to work. “Next you’re going to tell me you want a tattoo,” he mused. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to nudge him as he was working and turned back to Hana and Chris. “You wanna watch?” Chris asked, looking over at you.
You glanced at Hana who shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she added. You walked over and stood beside them. “What kind of piercing is this?” you asked. “Bridge,” Hana replied simply. You pointed at the bridge of your nose and Hana nodded. You nodded and watched as Chris took a black marker and marked either side of the bridge of Hana’s nose.
“Is that where you want it?” he asked, handing her a handheld mirror. You watched as she tilted his head, checking the placement before handing the mirror back. “Yep,” she said simply. Chris nodded, grabbing an alcohol wipe and opening it. He carefully wiped the spot before picking up the needle.
“Alright, he said softly. “Close your eyes. Deep breath in.” You watched as he carefully lined the point of the needle with the mark. “Deep breath out.” As Hana breathed out, Chris pushed the needle in, carefully lining the point with the opposite side to make it even. Once the needle was all the way through, he turned to the tray, opening the package with the jewelry.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he removed one of the balls from the barbel and placed the end into the open end of the needle. You watched with morbid fascination as he pulled the needle through, guiding the barbel into the new hole. He removed the needle and grabbed the ball, screwing it on and making sure it was firm and tight.
“And done,” he said simply. Hana opened her eyes, taking the mirror from him to look at the new piece of jewelry as Chris started to clean up. “Be honest,” Hana said, turning to you. “How does it look?” You inspected it a little closer. “It looks really cool. It’s perfectly even, too,” you replied. Hana smiled and looked back into the mirror.
You excused yourself and headed back to Lilah, passing Paxton who glared at you once again. You still didn’t know what her issue with you was but you decided not to dwell on it as you entered Changbin’s station. He’d finished the lines and was now working on shading the lion head.
“How was your trip?” Lilah asked, eyes still shut. “Fascinating,” you answered as you sat back down. Changbin glanced up at you and smiled before returning to his work. “Jeongguk was working on an arm tattoo. It looked like some kind of mandala,” you explained to Lilah. “Minho was doing this really cool traditional dragon tattoo and Chris did a bridge piercing,” you relayed, feeling like a child telling your mother what happened in school that day.
The rest of the appointment passed quickly and soon Changbin was turning off the tattoo gun and setting it down. “Alright,” he said and Lilah opened her eyes. “Let me finish wiping it down and then I’ll cover it. You looked up from your phone, having zone out a while ago while playing some kind of coloring game on your phone. Changbin wrapped up quickly.
As he was finishing, Jeongguk peered in. “We’re ordering from the noodle place down the street,” he announced to Changbin. “You want your usual?” Changbin nodded without looking up as he applied vaseline to Lilah’s tattoo and started securing the plastic. “Get some of those beef dumplings,” he called out. He looked up at Lilah. “You know the drill. Bandage stays on for four days, no soaps except that antimicrobial I told you about, lotion for sensitive skin without dyes or perfumes, blah blah blah,” he added as he got up and started cleaning.
“If the bandage comes off before four days, come back in and I’ll replace it,” he added as Lilah walked over to the mirror, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of it. “And send me that picture,” he added as he noticed her taking another. “I want to add both it and the finished piece to my instagram.”
Lilah nodded and opened her messages to send him the picture. “So what do you think?” Lilah asked, showing off the new ink. You smiled, inspecting it. “I like it,” you replied. “The lines are really clean and the shading is really good. It’s gonna look pretty sick with the color,” you added.
“Does this mean you want to get something?” Lilah asked, wiggling her eyebrows, making you laugh loudly. “No,” you replied. “Absolutely not.” Changbin removed his gloves and tossed them in the trash bin, the snap of the gloves making you and Lilah look over at him.
He had a playful smile on his face. “Is my art not pretty enough for you?” he asked jokingly. You shook your head. “Your art is beautiful,” you replied, catching him off guard. “I just don’t have any desire to get a tattoo,” you explained. Changbin chuckled lightly. “I’m just messing with you,” he replied. “Tattoos aren’t for everyone,” he added. “I get that.”
Lilah thankfully punctuated the subject with her change in topic.
“How much do I owe you?”
You turned to gather your things as Lilah paid Changbin, thanking him once more. “Come back once you’re ready to add some color to that,” Changbin reminded her. She nodded and turned to you. “I’m gonna go see Chris really quick. I’ll meet you up front.” You nodded as you unplugged your phone from your charger and packed up.
As you were pulling on your coat, Changbin spoke up.
“If you ever change your mind,” he said, drawing your attention. “About getting a tattoo,” he added, noticing your confused expression. “I’d be happy to do any work you’d like done.” You smiled warmly. “Thanks,” you said softly, picking up your bag as he leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d love to be your first,” he added, an amused undertone to his voice.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you. Something in the playful smirk on his face. Before you could respond, you heard Lilah calling your name, pulling you from your trance.
“I gotta go,” you announced. Changbin nodded, the same smirk still on his face. “See you around, Y/N,” he said softly and you turned away, forcing yourself to walk out of the room and towards the front of the shop where Lilah was waiting.
You followed her out onto the sidewalk, Chris locking the door behind the two of you as they set about closing the shop. “Are you hungry?” Lilah asked, linking her arm with yours. You nodded slowly, still mulling over Changbin’s words and playful banter. “Yeah,” you finally replied as Lilah steered you in the direction of the town square. “Let’s get some dinner,” you added.
“Good,” Lilah said excitedly. “Cause I’m starving.”
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