I loveee the Notion Page it looks really beautiful and well put together and it does help with the general mood of the story💕💕
Aww, thank you so much. I added a few things on Avyanna's makeshift Instagram, and I'm thinking about editing the stories by adding dates, but that would be such an exhausting job, so it's nothing immediate.
But I'm so happy you like the page, and I'm also happy that I discovered Notion could let me do that. I find it better than creating numerous accounts on Instagram.
OOmg now iam scare, you say that we have to pray for dafne. 😥
Yeppp, Daphne's mind likes overworking itself and sometimes that doesn't benefit her, so we mostly need to pray for her mind, because if the can of worms that she saw during winter break is opened again, she might actually lose it.
I feel like Dafne's overconfidence is going to backfire on her 😓, and the drama is going to be intense. By the way, you're amazing—thank you so much for your efforts in bringing us a chapter today; we love and appreciate you! ❤❤
Hi, and you're so welcome. I'm going to start working on the next chapter already so I can maintain the schedule.
About Daphne... I feel like overconfidence is a wrong word; Daphne's just being very chill and calm about things in a way that isn't based really on confidence but rather avoidance: she's essentially refusing to address anything because at the moment, everything's fine.
Cleo, on the other hand, is the kind of girl who tries to keep problems away from herself by foreseeing and destroying them on their way oming and not when they've already arrived.
For Daphne, that way of thinking is too vague, leaving a very huge gap for mistakes she fears could fuck up everything. And this is something we see even in mundane things, such as during exams: as soon as she starts feeling unsure about anything, instead of trying to think harder about it or go with the flow (becaquse there must be a reason she's remembering a formula), she just shuts down because uncertainty = chance of being wrong, and being wrong is her worst nightmare.
One thing is experiencing this in school, a whole other thing is experiencing it in her love life.
The drama, though, is certainly going to be thick enough to be cut with a knife 100%.
As for Willow, I think he was just an ego boost for her. Since he’s the popular guy, being with him was a status symbol. That’s why she felt the need to mark her territory so blatantly—without actually respecting him as a partner. What really scares me now is Daphne. Knowing how her anxiety works... if she finds out the details of that past, will she feel intimidated by how passionate and 'loud' Willow was, or will she realize that what she has with Tae—that river-like peace—is a thousand times more valuable? I feel like her mind might work against her! 😭 My poor Lauri.
I really love seeing you guys' assumptions and character studies about Willow, because despite them still being rightfully vague, some are scarely accurate, given the very little infomation about her.
I'm going to start by saying that you're right, but the perspective matters a lot, and it's not your classic idea of using someone for status symbol.
As I said multple times, when it comes to Willow, or basically any character in the book (especially Taehyung), nothing is that simple, nothing is that straight. Everything's contorted and complex.
One incredibily accurate thing is Daphne's mind. There's a reason she doesn't like to entertain many things: she knows herself and knows how her mind can disturt reality if she really gives it a thought.
So whenever Cleo brings up Adrielle, her refusal to entertain the topic or even look into it is based on fear, fear of her own self and what she could do, again, just by herself and with her overthinking mind.
I'm not going to spoil much, but you're right about everything you said. What just matters is the perspective, and that will come up with time.
mdi // index // playlist // moodboard chp.55 // main masterlist // taglist
❀ | zy's corner. Okay, to begin this note, we're first gonna talk about the epigraph, but there isn’t much to say because the epigraph is simply taken from the chorus of the song Blackest Day, a Lana Del Rey song, which is very specific and pretty symbolic: the baby that Lana sings about, in Daphne’s case, hints at Cleo and how Daphne has been seeing the past week since fought.
Moving on to the first section of the chapter, we resume from Monday after school, which is the first day of a long week in Daphne’s eyes because we get to see how far Cleo’s taking things and her efforts to avoid Daphne like the plague.
Keep in mind that these characters are aged between 17 and 19, so being petty is completely unexpected; in fact, if you wanna be petty, be so during your teenage years and not grow out of it by your adult years for everyone’s good.
The swirls in the chapter title hint at the uncomfortably cyclic nature of the week in a way that feels like routine but also doesn’t. I think I’ve made it pretty clear throughout the book that Daphne loves routines, loves that stability—makes her feel grounded—and this two, despite how much she hated it, managed to become a routine in record time, and she’s forced to live with it.
But one important thing is that while she’s seemingly spinning through this monotone cycle, Taehyung, who’s the unstable one between them, is her grounding force, turning the tables.
Friday and the whole fight with her parents is a moment that allows us to see how Daphne handles embarrassment, another proof that she’s conflict avoidant, and how she breaks after resting under pressure for too long.
The main issue with Daphne isn’t simply being a petty teenager who behaves like they know their way around the world and no one can stop them. She simply doesn’t like the idea of her family thinking about her sex life, and having to sit her down and give her a safe sex talk implies that they’re thinking about it to some degree.
One thing I want you guys to keep in mind is the conversation they have and what her parents tell her exactly, because down the line, you’ll get to see how many other characters should receive a talk like this.
I’m already fifteen minutes late by the time I’m completing this note. To better picture the mood and vibe for this chapter, you can head to my Tumblr navi and browse through the moodboards (there’s a specific link for this chapter as there is for every other chapter - link at the top))
Leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments: y’all think Cleo’s taking it too far, or is Daphne being overdramatic? What about Avyanna? If y’all were to stumble upon an InStagram page that looked like hers, what would y’all think? And imagine being in Cleo’s shoes; how would living in that limbo stage of uncertainty feel?
—Now playing: Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd ✫
After the last weekend, Daphne had foreseen a rather bright week, a chain of days connected by anticipation and excitement for the following one, but right from Monday, this chain revealed itself to be made of sand, incredibly vulnerable to disturbance.
Sitting through the rest of the day on Monday had never been so taxing, and it was worse when neither girl wanted to make it obvious to their friends that they'd fought.
Cleo had suddenly learned the concept of personal space, and her things stopped pouring out onto Daphne's desk. Her elbow wasn't crossing the line between the two tables whenever she slouched to write anymore.
She didn't feel like asking clarifications from Daphne, and the latter tried to not be bothered by her friend's newfound ability to ask questions directly to the teacher.
The fear of being judged was suddenly nowhere to be found.
Daphne didn't try forcing a conversation or resuming the fight in any way. She deduced her friend wanted space, and space she chose to give her, but the more she did, the colder she felt, and Daphne hated the cold.
When the last bell of the day rang, Cleo didn't wait for her as she usually did, leaving her with Asher, who was still silently pleading either to talk to him or keep him posted.
He frowned when he saw Cleo walk past him to Nick and James, and hadn't he noticed the tension between the girls at the beginning of the day, he wouldn't have made much of it.
Daphne just shrugged, pushing her belongings into her bag and finally heading out with the rest of the students.
Who was waiting for her, though, was Taehyung, along with Jimin, because the two were secretly twins separated at birth.
The four made their way out of the school and to the bus stop with a lazy pace that cost them their seats, so for most of their journey home, they stood by the doors and held onto poles.
When finally the bus took a familiar turn, Daphne glanced to the back where she found Cleo and Adrielle, both with headphones on, isolated but sitting next to each other.
Cleo was busy shoving her crocheting tools into her bag, while Adrielle's head leaned against the glass window, looking outside with tired eyes.
Daphne turned back to Taehyung, the only one left after Jimin and Asher got off at their stops. There was barely any space left between their bodies, and hadn't he been busy trying to leave quick pecks on her neck, he wouldn't have missed the dull glint in her eyes.
Seconds before the bus came to a halt, she cupped his face for a fleeting kiss and waved at him, but the moment she was out, she wished she had plans with him just to get out of the ugly situation before her.
Cleo did not wait. Instead, she walked straight home, keeping her back as the only thing that Daphne could see and communicate with.
Her headphones were somewhere beneath the hood of her jacket and the tall walls of her scarf. Her backpack's original monotone look was altered by various colourful decorations, especially handmade keychains she'd crocheted herself. The bottom of her jeans was darker, marked by the little drops of melted snow hitting the back of her legs whenever she stepped into a puddle.
Unlike usual, Daphne could still hear the bus roaring in the distance as it sped away, and again, unlike usual, instead of chatting with her friend to fill up the silence, her fingers were busy picking a song from her everyday playlist.
She caught the crunch of the snow under her shoes, her clothes ruffling with every movement, and her breathing as she inhaled and exhaled. Now, the white cloud forming in front of her mouth also had a sound.
Given that she and Cleo were the only high schoolers in their neighbourhood, they were the only students walking up the hill to their homes at half past two in the afternoon.
Pink Floyd played through her earphones, the notes seemingly shielding her ears from the cold wind and isolating her mind, giving it space to do what it did best: overthink.
A loose curly strand blew against the wind and out of the hood of Cleo’s jacket as she steadily walked home, feet masterfully marching up the hill without slipping on the snow.
Daphne had heard the sound of her sigh above the guitar runs as she pushed the messy hair strands out of her face. Cleo, on her right, proceeded home as if there were no one around, specifically not her best friend.
As Daphne unlocked her front gate, she heard Loki and Luke barking in unison in the background, the only ones that she really allowed in her presence through the rest of the day because they wouldn’t ask questions.
—Now playing: In The Modern World by Fontaines D.C ✫
Tuesday was no different, actually a bit worse.
It began raining in the night, and it dragged out into the morning and eventually the rest of the day.
Daphne's golden lamp resembled a lit candle behind frosted glass, her room quickly overwhelmed by the gloom of the morning.
Unlike usual, she chose to play music in the background as she went about her routine, so Muse sang for her until she went downstairs to have breakfast.
She'd already wrapped the scarf around her neck by the time she closed the front door behind her, but the evilly soft wind that blew into her face made her clutch her jacket tighter out of reflex.
Thanks to the work of snowploughs, the main road was clear and safer to thread, so choosing to wear sneakers didn't backfire.
Clanging the gate closed on her way out of her compound, she turned toward Cleo's house, searching for her best friend and wondering if she were still angry at her—at least angry enough to still want to avoid her.
She found no one. A few lights were on, but that could easily be her dad. Maybe she still was trying to avoid her and chose to leave later than they usually did.
Cleo was a deep sleeper, hated mornings, and could sleep through three consecutive alarms unbothered, so it wouldn't be surprising even on their best day.
But finding her at the bus stop before her was the final blow to the chest: Cleo was standing under the canopy.
Her shoulder was against the left pole, on the other end of the bus stop, and her ankles were crossed. Whether she'd done it on purpose or not mattered little at this point: she was transfixed on her phone, headphones plugged in to isolate her from the world, objectively too busy to notice Daphne.
The sight made Daphne taste latte in her mouth, as though she hadn’t swallowed it before leaving home. There was something repulsive about it, about the effort.
Yes, they’d fought, but damn, did she really have to go against her nature just to keep away from her? Cleo wouldn’t wake up so early even on the day of her dream school trip.
So they didn’t greet each other: Cleo still refused to look in her direction, and Daphne feared that approaching her would just expand the already present and uncomfortable distance between them.
Up until the end of the school day, Daphne didn’t know how she’d deal with the discomfort, especially given how interwoven her life and Cleo’s were. So she was stuck in a limbo stage between performance and annoyance.
Every step she took now felt dangerous, observed, as if someone could just look at her and know what was going on.
Boarding the bus was the first test. Walking behind Cleo to the back of the bus was nothing out of the ordinary, all part of her routine, yet she unconsciously swallowed the lump in her throat with each footstep, wondering if the familiar faces on the bus could tell that they had a wall between them.
With Taehyung’s head on her shoulder and his body covering most of the view from the side, Daphne couldn’t see much of what Cleo was doing during the ride to school. Still, she could hear, catch every excited word she threw Adrielle’s direction.
She internally grimaced because wasn’t she the same person subtly bashing the girl the day prior, only to socialise with her so much right after they fought?
As usual, Adrielle wasn’t as enthusiastic during their conversations, but she was replying so much more than she ever did with Daphne, even before what went down on Taehyung’s birthday.
Now, she knew that Cleo always tried to socialise with Adrielle ever since Taehyung moved to the back of the bus to sit next to her. But now it mattered more and for a variety of reasons.
First was betrayal, because they'd fought, and now Cleo chose to spend her time with the same girl whose simple name sounded like bad news, like a grey cloud floating over the sun, like a thunder warningly telling everyone to get cover.
Hypocrisy, because Adrielle’s name had come up during their fight, and it wasn't to compliment her. Cleo addressed her as a problem, some thing Daphne didn't want to address because she was too scared to get stuck in her head.
And maybe even jealousy, envy, because Daphne wanted to be on the receiving end of Cleo’s affection, and yet, there she was, giving it to who she indirectly refers to as the common enemy.
Only later in the day did she find a way to go about the situation in a somewhat similar fashion: distraction.
As expected and decided, toward the end of the school day, her mother drove up to her school to pay the fee for the ski resort experience, and since she was already there, after running a few quick errands in nearby stores, she took Daphne shopping, helping her choose sweaters and trousers to withstand the cold and dresses for her birthday.
Daphne was in class when her mum notified her of her arrival, and the numbers on her lockscreen read 'twelve-forty-five'.
mami | 12:45 PMI just got to your school
mami | 12:45 PMOnce I've paid, I'm heading to town to buy a few things. I'll meet you in the parking lot, okay?
There were fifteen minutes left before the end of her Latin class, an hour and fifteen minutes to the end of the school day, seventy-five minutes still enduring Cleo's surprising efforts to avoid her as humanly possible.
Five minutes before the end of art history class, the last class of the day, Daphne shoved her belongings into her bag, so as soon as the bell rang, she was out of there, quickly waving at her friends and telling them they'd see each other tomorrow.
She'd already texted Taehyung, telling him she was rushing off earlier because she had plans with her mum, but truly, she could've waited for him, walked with him to the parking lot, and as she got into her mum's car, he would've proceeded to the bus stop. But all that included leisurely walking, a slow pace that would make her encroach on paths with Cleo again to see how much she wanted to avoid her.
So she chose the safest pathway, hopping down the stairs like a freshman student and basically running out of the school premises to her mum's car.
Thankfully, lunch and shopping went astronomically well, so Cleo was left as barely an afterthought throughout the rest of the day.
The ride back home on a dim road, with glistening asphalt and flaring streetlights, just restored them all over again, and she tried blaming it on her need to go onto Instagram and check on those she followed.
During the little spans of time her mother wasn't trying to strike up a conversation, she scrolled through Tumblr, her homepage now filled with Lana del Rey memes, under the hashtag Lizzy Grant, and girlblogging posts.
Empire of the Sun played through the speaker, and a song that she usually attached to a summer day, driving along a beach road, suddenly fit with the gloom of the rain and the hissing of the tyres on the wet tarmac.
It had rained for almost the entire day nonstop, yet the pine trees lining the entrance to her neighbourhood were still covered in snow like golden bread marked with powdered sugar.
As her mum turned left to park in front of their gates, Daphne caught a glimpse of Cleo's house again. The lights were on, obviously, but she couldn't see anyone inside; she could only assume. And assuming just hurt more.
—Now playing: I'll Take The Rain by R.E.M. ✫
Wednesday basically followed the same pattern: six hours of hell and then the rest of the afternoon spent with someone else—Taehyung this time.
Unlike on Monday, she and Taehyung made it to the bus in time to sit at the back before anyone else. They placed their backpacks on the floor between seats, and she gave him the earphones while she reached for her book.
Ironically, leaving the playlist on shuffle from Taehyung's phone, since he was the only one who paid for Spotify Premium, R.E.M.'s I'll Take The Rain started playing.
Without uttering a word, like a rehearsed choreography that nobody taught but he just somehow learned, he hooked his right arm around hers and rested his cheek on her shoulder, getting comfortable to resume reading.
She unconsciously found herself giggling about it, about how clingy he could get, how cuddly and adorable he was underneath the nonchalance and his reserved nature.
Halfway into the journey, he dozed off still against her shoulder, an aftereffect of the six hours in school, the warmth in the bus, the comfort of the position, and Sheryl Crow's voice as she sang Run, Baby, Run.
By the end of the day, Daphne concluded that Wednesday went better than Tuesday: hanging out with Taehyung of all people cancelled out the first six hours of the day, spent wondering if her best friend hated her for good now.
It was her third time at Taehyung’s place; they had lunch together, studied together, made out, and in all that chaos, she’d unexpectedly given him hickeys.
It wasn't planned, and in all honesty, before then, Daphne didn't believe she knew how to give them at all, but now she did, and she had to force her brain to stop thinking about it because, as she went downstairs to his kitchen for the study break, she was suddenly not sure she remembered exactly how she actually gave him the hickeys.
While Taehyung talked with Adrielle about Nana's whereabouts, she began preparing the snacks, thinking, wondering—again—how things would've gone hadn't Adrielle walked in on them and interrupted the pretty quick escalation of things in his bedroom.
She asked herself, even, what would've happened not because she didn't have an idea about it, just to know if she would've continued, opted out of fear, or told him to stop for the sake of taking things slow.
Nana eventually arrived, just a few minutes late, and when she returned upstairs with Taehyung, the mood was already annihilated, so they finished studying without humping each other.
Now, Thursday was meant to follow a similar pattern, this time at her place on his explicit request and her indirect conditioning.
The morning began just as awfully as it'd done the past three days. Every step of her routine that she completed was a reminder that she was closer to facing Cleo again and her painfully good efforts to avoid her.
The song playing in the background was Noel Gallagher's AKA... What A Life, and this time, she didn't pause it, carrying the phone with her to have breakfast and fill up the gaps her brain would use as an opportunity to think about Cleo again.
When she was done eating, walking out the front door felt like crossing the threshold between the river Acheron and the gates of hell with no Virgilio as a guide.
The cold muffled the lock of the door when she finally left for the bus stop. Her weather app warned of rain, but besides a dark sky, there was nothing as proof if not the traces of yesterday's downpour.
The tarmac was still shining under the golden hues of the streetlights, and her boots squelched whenever she stepped onto shallow puddles along the sides of the main road.
Replacing Noel Gallagher were Muse with Ghost, whilst Nick's questions about the day's schedule filled up her notifications.
Once at the bus stop, she didn't sit on the frozen bench; instead, she walked to the left pole—this time, Cleo wasn't there yet—and stopped under the canopy to safely reply to the text messages without accidentally walking into incoming traffic or falling into a ditch.
The numbers at the top corner of her screen read almost fifteen to seven when she last glanced at them before turning the device off.
It was just a matter of minutes before the bus would drive down to their stop, so it wasn't surprising that she wondered where Cleo was, only to locate her walking down the road, phone recklessly in hand.
—Now playing: Time Is Running Out by Muse ✫
Suddenly the lyrics of the song started hitting more than just notes, so she moved to the next.
Was that another effort to avoid her, walking on the road where there's no defined sidewalk with her eyes on the phone? Or was it a way to compensate because that morning she didn't have the energy to wake up earlier just to get to the bus stop before her and avoid encroaching paths?
Everything was pettily hurtful in the way a painful injury itches.
Cleo was a few steps away from reaching the bus stop when the bus headlights shone down the road.
Again, just like it'd been on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, they boarded the bus together but separated; Daphne sat by the window next to Taehyung, and Cleo sat next to Adrielle, keeping a seat away from Taehyung to place her bag.
Daphne had to mentally slap herself for even suspecting that it was just another way of hers to socially distance herself from her. She'd seen enough, so she didn't exactly feel like it was a stretch.
All this over a boy, by the way.
The playlist of the day was Taehyung's, and Mad World played through her earphones while they continued reading The Secret History together.
The heating system of the bus fogged up the windows, so speeding headlights and streetlights were blurry spheres or messy streaks.
Just as it'd been since Tuesday, Daphne couldn't focus well on the book she'd always wanted to read and basically begged to receive as a Christmas gift.
Maybe it was to blame on her restless mind, or Cleo's suddenly fond friendship with Adrielle that just wouldn't let her shut up for a minute.
Once they were in front of school, Daphne, again, had to force herself to look elsewhere just to avoid seeing Cleo's efforts to avoid her still.
Daphne's new friend group comprised Taehyung, Asher, Jimin, and Adrielle, because the first was her boyfriend, and he was clingy; the second always hung out with her; the third always hung out with both her and her boyfriend; and the last one couldn't go without her boyfriend and Jimin. Besides, James wanted to stay with Avyanna, Cleo with Jungkook, and sadly, Nick with Cleo.
Daphne still wondered what the boy fought for still. It was clear Cleo didn't want him, but there were still instances that Cleo turned into the same mixed signal she always claimed Jungkook was. And Daphne mentally shrugged off the possibility that Cleo was so bothered about James's growing relationship with Avyanna solely because he wasn't setting his eyes on her any longer.
The same boy they'd fought over was the one whom Cleo deemed fit to share a cigarette with before class, and Cleo never really smoked cigarettes, only flavoured pens.
The same girl she was bashing behind the scenes was the one she was laughing with, acting as if she'd always been part of the group, and not like she was going through the seven rings of hell just coming to terms with James's interest in Avyanna.
Daphne still loved her as a friend, but she couldn't deny that this side of her was distasteful and even slightly embarrassing. And maybe yes, she could've handled it better too, but what more could she do, though?
As soon as she got to her classroom, Daphne left her jacket on her chair and her backpack on the floor by the desk, and instead of having Taehyung wait for her by the windowsill as usual, she went first, yearning to leave the performance she was meant to show to her friends just so no one would ask questions.
It hurt because Cleo would force herself to speak to her, but would never look into her face, let alone her eyes. Smiling was suddenly a disease, and Daphne wanted to put her out of misery quickly, save herself the pain.
As her back touched the windowsill and her arms came up in a cross, her top slightly rode up, and just that sliver of exposed skin annoyed her so much, as though an insect had walked on her.
She pulled it down rather violently and turned to the window, looking outside as if the snowy planes and the cold glass could help her cool off the stress. The dark clouds only matched her mood.
She could see students walking in the hallways on the other side of the building, the same way she could see the few ones cursed with PE first thing in the morning heading to the gym.
Unlike any other grade school, most of the jackets were in neutral colours—blacks, browns, and greys—and the only sprout of colour came from the few beanies, scarves, and backpacks.
Uncrossing her arms again, she tried reaching for the glass and touching it, feeling the little bit of cold that had just annoyed her, but Taehyung startled her from behind, his warm hands running along her waist to hug her from behind.
"Hello," he cooed, chin on her shoulder before nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck for a quick kiss. She flashed him a smile without turning to look at him and gave in to the embrace.
He was warm, always was, but this time it wasn't enough to melt off the uncomfortably thin layer of ice sitting on her skin like an itch she couldn't reach for.
"What's on your mind? Got any exams coming up?" He tried striking up a conversation, lips ghosting her neck for another kiss.
In all honesty, weren't they in school, she would've leaned closer into his touch until those kisses landed harder enough to muffle the screams in her head and bury the thoughts in her mind. Instead, she shrugged and pursed her lips into a little pout.
"Not yet, but I'm counting down already."
"Then what? Your latte this morning was lukewarm instead of scorching hot?"
She chuckled, shoving him in the rib, and he softly laughed in victory, satisfied with her reaction.
"Just... thinking about my birthday party." A half-truth. "Still not satisfied with the ideas coming up in my head."
"What are you so unsure about?" he mumbled, chin still on her shoulder as he swayed them from side to side.
"I can't really put it into words, you know?" because, in all honesty, it wasn't what bothered her mind.
"Okay, so, you said Granny's the one handling the cake—"
"And I'm also helping with preparing the rest of the food."
He hummed. "Yeah, you are. Your parents are the ones taking care of the invitations, no?"
"I kind of have that one sorted out, too. I've already created the group chat, and I believe no one's missing."
"Sounds like everything's sorted out."
"No," she sighed, turning to face him with her hands on his shoulders. The proximity forced her eyes on his lips first before she diverted her gaze elsewhere.
Over his shoulder, she caught the top of a blonde head, and that also forced her to look elsewhere again.
"I still don't really know what theme to follow when decorating or even dressing myself."
She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, launching onto Pinterest and going through her boards.
"Look, I saved so much that I don't know what the fuck to go with anymore," she softly laughed, trying to ease herself before she turned things awkward enough for him to notice that something was wrong.
With his left hand behind her on the windowsill, he reached for her phone, scrolling through the pins while she commented in the background.
She felt his body heat through the layers of her clothing, and with her hands free, she unconsciously reached for him, caressing his waist before wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest.
"I really like going with polka dots," her speech was a bit messed up, with her cheek still against him, "and I feel like I can't go with red because then it'll look kind of creepy, no? Don't you think?"
He pursed his lips in doubt, looking down to meet her eyes. "No, don't really think so, plus you could pick a specific shade of red and pair it with some browns. You always do that."
"Yeah, but it's a hassle finding the right shade for every single decoration," she sighed, nuzzling against him.
"I could help making some. I have enough paint to make whatever shade you want."
She blinked twice, surprised and leaning back to properly look at him. "Wait, you do?"
"Mh-hmm." He shrugged and smiled.
"Damn," she chuckled, returning her cheek against his chest. "Well then, that leaves us with my outfit. I already visited the tailor with Granny, and I went shopping with my mum on Tuesday, but..., ugh!"
He smiled, playing with her hair before cupping her face and chuckling at her puffy cheeks and pouty lips.
"Lauri, you have nothing to worry about. You free after school today? I could help you out. It's not like there's much time left before the party anyway."
And who is Daphne to decline such an offer? It was killing two birds with one stone.
So after school, while he rushed to his place to grab his painting equipment, she put together a few ingredients and began making their lunch, since her parents were yet to be home.
Again, there was music playing from her phone, the volume not exactly what she desired at this point in the day, but she managed, leaving the device on the kitchen counter.
The Smiths were playing when Taehyung finally made it to her place, Loki and Luke barking the second they heard the gate squeak open.
"I'm back!" he announced from the entrance, swiftly taking off his jacket and shoes.
"Hey," she greeted him from the kitchen, hearing his footsteps approach her. "I just poured the pasta into the pot. I'm using some of the stew left from yesterday's dinner, so it should be ready in a few minutes."
"Yeah, don't worry." He smiled at her, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen. "Where are we staying?"
"My room."
"Perfect, so let me just leave this upstairs. I'll be back." And with that, he scurried off to the top floor with the dogs tailing behind him and their collars jingling with each step, while she made sure the foam from the pasta wasn't pouring out onto the stove.
Right after The Smiths came Depeche Mode, and by the time two of their songs finished playing, Daphne was draining the pasta and mixing it with the ragù stew.
Taehyung, in all this, had been slicing bread into pieces and setting the table.
—Now playing: Tranquillity Bae, Hotel & Casino by Arctic Monkeys ✫
The ceramic plates knocked on the dining table as they finally settled to eat after a long school day, and Daphne passed him her phone, inviting him to choose a song.
Unsurprisingly, he played Arctic Monkeys, winking at her when she looked at him because of it.
"Don't like them?" he teased, shoving the fork into his plate to collect as much as he possibly could in a single go.
"I do. I just thought you'd play something else." She softly giggled, taking a little scoop of pasta.
"It's just been long, so long, since I last listened to this specific song— plus, it's calm, no?"
"Hmm," she smiled, "yeah, I'll give you that."
"Anyway, nice as fuck," he spoke with a mouthful of pasta, fork pointing down to his plate.
"My dad made it." And he continued nodding, chewing on another mouthful.
"Mh!" He began again, quickly swallowing. "How are things with Cleo? You guys talked it out?"
Her lips went thin, jaw freezing mid-bite. She shook her head and continued eating.
"Oh," he mouthed, reaching for the jar of water to fill their cups while his tongue poked his cheek. "You're still holding grudges, or she does?"
"She." And she thanked him for the water.
"So you guys haven't spoken since Monday."
"Basically." She shrugged. "She's actually being a bit petty with it, going the extra mile just to physically avoid me."
He snorted. "Sorry, I can't say much about that, because I sometimes get very petty myself. It's embarrassing to admit, but I can't judge her for that."
"Oh, so you get so petty that to make sure you don't meet me on your way to the bus stop, you wake up earlier than usual despite you being the biggest night owl the world has ever seen?"
There was a small smile on her lips as she said this, turning the focus to Taehyung and trying to picture him doing it, but there was frustration in her voice that the playful tone couldn't fully hide.
"Oh, well," he laughed, "damn."
"Exactly! Knocked my socks right the fuck off." Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it. Nothing too sharp, nothing too spiky, but it was still there, solid enough to poke the rib and leave a bruise.
"She did this this morning?"
"On Tuesday morning."
"Well, wow..." he gathered some pasta with his fork again, "and all this over..."
"Yeah, over Jungkook— Have you told him what I told you?"
"Haven't had the chance to hang out with him yet. Unless we've got plans for tomorrow as well, we're supposed to have lunch at Jimin's after school. I'll tell him then."
She hummed, nodding and chewing on her food, and before shoving the fork into his mouth, he couldn't help lingering on her, catching the very brief and dismissive series of replies she'd been pushing his way.
"I suppose it was very rough—I ain't trying to have you reveal more than you want to. I just—"
"I just don't like that she's taking it so far, you know? But I guess I didn't fully grasp how sensitive a topic it is for her."
Breathily chuckling to ease the tension, he left the fork on the plate to rub her back. "Don't worry. It honestly can't get any worse. I feel like just giving her time will heal the injuries, okay?"
"Yeah, but one thing is giving her time and space, and a whole other thing is seeing how she's filling up the space so I don't even mistakenly take a step close to her."
To that, he thinned his lips, mind instantly void of ways to comfort her better.
"And we're also neighbours. I can see her house from granny's garden. And we're desk mates in class. And she doesn't want the boys to notice that we fought, but Asher caught on right from Monday." She rubbed her face and sighed.
"Ugh. I hate this. I literally don't know what to do, but I also know what to do, but she won't let me—"
"Easy then. It's not up to you. You can't force it if she won't be receiving of it. It could actually deepen the cracks rather than close them. Just give her time. If y'all don't talk it out by the weekend, it'll be for after the ski resort. I think by then she'll definitely be up for a talk."
"Yeah, but what if she isn't? It's scary as fuck, honestly." She groaned, cheeks melting against her palms.
"You guys first need to talk about it. Just give her the time to clear her mind enough to be ready to hear your words, okay?"
Rubbing her eyes without caring about smearing her mascara, she turned to face him, eyes asking him if he was sure of his words. And as if she'd voiced it out, he nodded, drawing circles on her back before giving her a soft pat and encouraging her to eat.
"Come on. Next Sunday is your party, and we still have to sort out the decorations. Time waits for no one."
She gave him a fleeting, tight-lipped smile and complied, turning the pasta a couple of times before finally taking in a spoonful.
—Now playing: Fluorescent Adolescent by Arctic Monkeys ✫
By the time the plates were washed off, it was raining again, the first time of the day actually, because the clouds had spent the first half just teasing and playing around.
Loki was at the feet of the couch, sleeping still, and Taehyung sighed when he noticed Daphne looking at the dog.
"Come on," and she yelped, wrapping her arms around his neck out of reflex, "upstairs we go."
"A little heads up, no?" she chuckled as he carried her in bridal style up the stairs to her bedroom.
The windows were fogged up, and the room was slightly chilly, a clear sign of the absence of human presence.
The bed was still as she'd left it in the morning, and her vanity was still a little messy, symbolising how the stress had her becoming impatient and lazy.
Taehyung's painting equipment was on the chair by the desk, but they didn't head there first; instead, he carried them to the bed, turning around to fall on it on his back with her still in his arms.
He groaned in satisfaction as the soft mattress, while she rolled her eyes. "Tae, bed after lunch is a very difficult temptation to fight. Get up."
She patted his thigh and got off the bed. He started whining, lamenting and thrashing around.
"Gosh, even a few minutes, no?" He stretched his neck to watch her as she went to her wardrobe.
"I have your sweatpants from yesterday. Want to wear them?"
"Yeah, why not?" He shrugged and quickly approached her. "You have more of mine in there, don't you?"
She chuckled, glancing to her side to find him peeking into the closet to locate anything that could belong to him.
"Still have your hoodie and shorts from the first time I came to your place. I wear them sometimes."
"Can't fucking believe this," he laughed, moving back to get changed while she looked for what to wear.
With her own sweatpants in hand and a little zip-up hoodie, she finally closed the wardrobe, dropping the clothes on her bed.
"Gotta turn up the heater in here," she mumbled.
"Do we?" He stopped unbuckling his belt.
She rolled her eyes before narrowing them. "Yes, we do. I don't want to turn into a popsicle. You can always take off your hoodie."
He chuckled, taking off his trousers while she returned to the bed to grab her changed.
Naturally, he was done changing first, so while she took care of herself, he went to the desk, turning her laptop on to play some music.
"Password?" he asked, back-facing her. She shouted it out, face hidden underneath her top, and within minutes, Kasabian was playing through the speakers.
"I added my Spotify account. If you want, I can add it on your phone too," and before he even finished the sentence, she unlocked her phone and threw it his way.
He softly laughed, catching it last minute and spinning on the chair as he added his profile.
As she folded off her clothes, he sang along to the song, his voice working as a soundtrack.
"Gonna go to the bathroom in a minute." He nodded, humming the song, and she disappeared from his line of sight.
Adding his profile on Spotify was nothing too difficult, so he was done by the time she closed the bathroom door.
So to pass some time, he just randomly observed the desk, noticing that beside books, piles of notes, and cups of pencils, there were small bottles of nail polish and a packet of transparent acrylic nails.
He'd just opened a box when he heard the toilet flush and the water run in the sink.
The box contained more tools for nail care, and curious, he just continued studying them.
"Okay, here I am— Oh," she paused, walking up to him, "I've been thinking about making myself a set of nails for the party."
"You can?" He softly gasped, spinning the chair around to face her.
"I'm not an expert, but the few times I tried it kind of helped me to learn."
"Shut up," he continued in surprise. "Sorry, what else are you good at?"
She giggled and shrugged, taking her phone and sitting in his lap. "Here's the look I'm going for."
And again, she went onto Pinterest, surfing through the same board from that morning. "Brown and milk white. Not bad, right?"
"Well, we just happened to find the theme for the decorations. Red will just be the accent colour."
"You think it's good?"
He rolled his eyes. "Babe, it's fucking perfect."
She shrugged. "Well then. Will you help me make the nail set?"
"You mean fuck it up, right?"
She softly slapped his shoulder, spinning around to face the box. "Ain't you the artist?"
"Yeah, but I'm good with oil and acrylic paint, not press-on nails, babe."
"I'll teach you then." She got off his lap to reach for her vanity. "Come on, Tae. It's not maths or physics—"
"Exactly."
"Play 'Time is running out' by Muse." He complied with that but still complained about her proposal.
"Lauri, are you sure?"
—Now playing: Religion by Lana Del Rey ✫
"In fact," she purposely ignored him, moving to the laptop, "it's my turn anyway. Let's put on some Lana Del Rey. I've been spamming Muse basically the whole week."
He sighed, torn between replying to her latest words or still insisting on the whole nail tech lesson she had in store for him.
"Lauri—"
"Ooh, I haven't played this song in such a long time," she continued, failing miserably at hiding her giggles.
"Oh, so I see." His tongue poked his cheek, hands reaching up to tickle her.
"Hey!" She giggled still, sitting in his lap despite it. "Actually, I think we should move to the floor, no?"
"No," he bluntly replied, watching as she added songs to the queue the same way a person waits for their sentence.
"No?" she chuckled without looking back at him. He saw her cheek swell in a little smirk, and he ran his tongue on his lips, finding it attractive instead of annoying. "Have any better ideas?"
He had to blink to snap out of it. "Oh, no, no, no. I meant 'no' as in 'no, let's not do this at all'."
She quickly turned to him, bottom lip between her teeth to hide her amusement, but it was written all over her features in a playful mockery he was surprisingly enjoying.
"You're that scared of it?" She teased him, scoffing and returning to the laptop. He poked his cheek again, hands on his thighs, itchy to touch something but also unsure of what to touch.
His primal self wanted to run his hand on her back, stop at her hips or maybe even grab her and kiss the living daylight out of her. But his sensible self reminded him that if that were to happen, with no one at home, they might actually not work on birthday decorations at all.
"Okay," she heaved a sigh and got off his lap, rubbing her thighs to fix the sweatpants, "made a nice queue to work to. Now, let's actually get to work—"
"Decorations first— In fact, I'll handle the decorations and you, the nails."
She bit her lip again, laughing and shaking her head. "You're starting to yap, Tae. Are you that scared of it? This isn't ice-skating."
"Okay, missy—" He got up, shaking his head and crooking his eyebrow exaggeratedly.
"Missy?" she gasped, clutching her nonexistent pearls and scooting backwards.
"Did..." she turned left and right, "did you just call me Missy?"
He chuckled, watching as her face contorted into surprise, head tilting to the side to assess him.
"You're not going to make fun of me," he pressed on, shrugging and trapping her between himself and the desk. His voice dipped into a whisper when he spoke again, "not in my presence—"
"You just called me Missy." She stood her ground, a little grin on her face as she leaned closer to him, trying to fight against it, but in all sincerity, she was enjoying every moment of it. Her hands held the edge of the desk, shoulders closing in, and her butt rested against the table.
"Who do you think you are?" She craned her neck to keep eye contact and her gaze away from the little smirk across his lips and the heat of his body.
"And who do you think you are?" He tilted his head, hands landing beside her hips on the desk. "Hmm?"
She didn't immediately reply, giggling still and moving her hands to his chest when he leaned down to her level. She felt his heartbeat through his ribs against her palms. His body was incredibly warm in a way that made her curious, curious to know how he'd really feel underneath his clothes.
She wasn't pushing him; in fact, she followed his movements as the distance slowly shrank. Her hands on his chest were the only way they were connected.
Shifting in her spot, knee grazing his, she shook her head to push back her hair, biting the inner corners of her mouth. "No one gets to call me Missy. That's all."
She shrugged, and he snorted, looking down for a split second as he shook his head. If she slid her hands down, hooked her fingers to his belt loops, a single soft pull would have his body crashing against hers.
But she didn't, and the heat between them suddenly felt like standing in front of roaring flames.
"And no one gets to make fun of me." He shrugged, craning his neck to the side again but refusing to break eye contact. Maybe it was the golden lamp on her bedside table that made her eyes shimmer, or he simply didn't care—too biased, too far gone.
"That's all."
"Are you sure about that?" She pestered on, eyebrows lifting briefly. Her voice was a bit chirpy, like the whole back and forth was pouring life into her.
"Fucking hell, Lauri," he rasped, head falling against her shoulder, shaking from side to side to fend off the purple thoughts clouding his mind.
The tone of her voice, the glint in her eyes, and the warmth of her body were showing him how weak he could become under the right circumstances, with the right person.
She giggled, trying to play it off, hiding the fact that when he spoke, her mind couldn't help breaking down the sound of his voice like it was a mathematical equation she knew how to solve at first glance.
It was soft with a grating edge to it that made her unconsciously pull her bottom lip between her teeth, her grin slowly faltering as her eyes burned into his when he looked up at her.
She could see his jaw flexing, his tongue poking his cheeks, his teeth running along his dental arches to find some restraint.
Her own tongue was seemingly frozen, too heavy to help her form words because she refused to let them out in the open, refused to give a sound to what she was feeling, what she believed would happen if she pestered him a little longer, if she leaned closer until his breath was fanning against her lips and his scent replaced the heat between them.
No one was at home, not until an hour. Sixty minutes would certainly be enough for anything to start and finish. Three thousand and six hundred seconds that would stretch like distant neurons trying to communicate, straining their axons and making her lose her mind faster.
And when he began leaning even closer, alarms started ringing in her head, fearful he'd feel her heartbeat against her lips the same way she could feel his bulge against her lower abdomen.
—Now playing: Cola by Lana Del Rey ✫
She didn't lean back, didn't try stopping him, incredibly curious to know what would happen next. She wanted to know with what he'd start first.
His hands? They were right next to her hips, next to her fingers. He could hold them if he wanted, even just grace them if his fingers flinched.
Neck kisses? Would he first rub the tip of his nose against her skin, take in her scent before leaving soft pecks on the skin? Then his hands would ride up, along her sides, above the stripes of her bra, to the back of her neck, fingers through her hair and thumb feeling her pulse.
Or would his hands linger low first, hook under the rim of her sweatpants, run on the band of her panties, catching a sliver of her skin enough to burn, but not enough to leave marks?
Would he step further, knee brushing past hers to settle between her legs? She knew she'd back off out of reflex, so much so that she'd be basically sitting on the desk, wishing she could close her legs, cross them, tame the throbbing heat between them. And she also knew he wouldn't stop—she didn't want him to anyway.
But instead, their ears caught the lyrics of Lana Del Rey's song as she began singing the first verse, and the glint in their eyes suddenly brightened, pure amusement slowly appearing on their faces before they laughed together.
"Oh, god," she began first, throwing her head back while his fell on her shoulder again. "I love Lana."
"Yeah," he scoffed, "'cause who else would say something like that?"
She chuckled, finally pushing him back into the chair, creating space to breathe, chest burning with carbon dioxide.
"Come on. Let's move to the floor."
"Oh," his eyes widened, hand scratching the back of his head, "we're— you're still on—"
"Yep. Come on, baby," she giggled, carrying all the necessities and moving to the floor to sit on the soft carpet spilling from underneath her bed.
He didn't immediately join her, looking for an excuse to quickly head to the bathroom, and as soon as she heard the door close, she bit her bottom lip again, unsure of how to process what she was currently feeling.
There was something solid sitting low within her, something that felt like a knot but looked like a cute bow. She brought her chin to her knees, arms going under her thighs to wrap around her legs while she stared at a random spot, mind already running crazy on a treadmill.
Her teeth wouldn't stop torturing her bottom lip—haven't stopped since the whole banter began. They were probably swollen, compensating for the kisses they didn't share. She thought about it and chuckled because they'd barely touched, and she felt like he was pouring liquid fire on her skin.
She already knew what it felt like to kiss him, to wrap her arms around his neck, let him carry her while her lips moved with his in a beautifully hot choreography she now knew by heart. She already knew how his body felt against hers—through clothes, but yes, she already knew.
And yet that tension dethroned any other thing they'd previously done because there was something deliciously enticing about sitting on the edge, standing on that thin line between restraint and passion.
She ran her fingers along her inner thighs, freezing up whenever they got too close to the soft pulling between her legs.
Sixty minutes, three thousand and six hundred beautifully long seconds until any parental figure would come home. Granny was out shopping for the birthday party, and Grandpa was still running errands in town. So it was just the two of them, and the more she thought about it, the more her insides burned with fear, anticipation, and excitement all in the same breath.
Her palms went flat on the carpet, running along the surface to try and overwhelm her senses to the point her brain would just reboot and think about something else.
But it was still there, the same way it was yesterday. She was responsible. She'd excited him. She was that much to him. And he'd hid it with a pillow. Now, he was in the bathroom, doing only god-knows what, and she shut her eyes tight to dull her imagination.
"Gosh, guys get boners over anything," she constantly repeated, but it felt like swimming against the current—useless.
It was easy to say it like that, but it was exciting to think otherwise, because it's Taehyung, not any of the boys she used to have in class in the city.
Taehyung's boy, yes, but he was a bit different, different enough to change her view on teenage relationships, different enough to make her fall so hard for him, different enough for her to break down her walls and pessimistic ideas for him, different enough for her to look him in the eyes and tell him that she loved him.
So this...? This had to mean something. Right?
It didn't matter anyway, because there was barely any space for reasonable thinking in her mind at the moment, and when Taehyung returned, her brain was in disarray, synapses suddenly not clicking right and sending her into a brief vegetative state.
"Wow," he scoffed, crossing his legs next to her and taking her silence as normalcy, just Daphne. "Acrylic nails, yeah?"
—Now playing: Love Song by The Cure ✫
Loki's chain jingled as it walked around the kitchen, wanting to move around but also stay close to them. Luke was on the couch, awake but resting.
Daphne and Taehyung were sitting at the dining table for their break. The digits on their lock screens read close to six pm, her parents were upstairs resting from work, her grandparents had returned, and whatever Granny was making for dinner was slithering from her place into Daphne's home as usual.
"So.." she said after taking a sip of latte, "Jimin and Adrielle are going for law?"
"Mh-hmm." He took a sip from his coffee before biting into the slice of bread, staining the corner of his mouth with a little jam.
"You're going for engineering, and what about Kook and Avyanna?"
"I think Anna will go for architecture or political science; like, essentially she'll just go with something that her parents have already done, because as of right now, she doesn't really know what the fuck she'd want to do."
She shrugged, passing him a paper towel. He quickly thanked her, and she flashed him a smile. "What about Kook?
"Kinda the same, really, but like," he briefly paused, "he's dad's a surgeon and his mum's an architect. He hates arts and maths and would never study medicine, so yeah, that leaves him with nothing at the moment."
They laughed together while Loki finally stopped waltzing around, sitting down between their chairs.
"Honestly, I feel like they're the type to take some time off before college, like a year spent travelling and just living life, y'know."
"Oh, trust me, they have that in mind, but I feel like only Anna will go through with that. I don't think Kook's parents are really going to let him do that much."
Daphne snorted. "It's not like it's a crime. If I could afford it, like, travelling and having fun like that, I'd also take a little break. All my mental issues are tied to school anyway."
"Jeez, mental issues." He shook his head, clapping his hands to dust off the crumbs of bread. "You're just very anxious. That's it."
"Just try being in my head when shit hits the fan, and then we'll talk."
He softly laughed, reaching for the coffee. "Is it that bad?"
"Hasn't been in some time now, but yeah, it is."
"You ever tried handling it better, because babe, you're eighteen in a week and have been going to school since nursery school. How the fuck did you survive?"
"Oh, my god," she gasped, "it didn't start until, like, middle school."
"That's still a pretty long time and an early age to be dealing with shit like that."
"I," she shrugged, "kind of talk about it with my sister."
"And that's it?"
"I have like this kind of medicine. It's not really a medicine, just like drops. I sometimes take them before exams."
"Damn, and I thought Adrielle was anxious."
"She's anxious, too?"
"Yeah, has social anxiety too, but she's not always going out to meet new people, so she's not experiencing it as often."
"My mother used to believe I was antisocial."
"Antisocial? Damn."
"Yeah, I just... I don't know," she shrugged. "I would just kind of isolate myself not to victimise myself or anything as corny. Just didn't really socialise because I was fine by myself."
"Hmm," he chuckled and clicked his tongue, "and pair that with the kind of idea you had around teenage relationships... tsk. You were signing up for long-lasting isolation."
"And I didn't mind it," she laughed. "Yeah, sounds kind of antisocial."
"Ever got diagnosed? Or even took a test?"
"Never felt the need to, plus I feel fine. I have friends now. The people I used to know were kind of mood killers. I didn't exactly fit the mould, you know? Some guys thought I was just a player; others who weren't in class with me believed I was just beauty and no brains."
"Oh," he grimaced. "A bit outdated of a mentality."
"Totally not the type of shit I need in my vicinity."
"Personal peace protector final boss, ain't you?"
And she proudly smiled, hand under her chin before she winked at him. He chuckled.
"You know? When you mentioned your mum, you suddenly reminded them that our parents are meeting on your birthday."
And she went wide-eyed, both bursting into a little fit of nervous laughter. "Fuck you're right, and there's also a chance my cousins are coming, too."
"Fuck, I'll be meeting your entire bloodline."
"Hahaha! Oh, my god. It's not that serious. My uncles are chill, and my cousins are the same ones that pushed me onto an ice rink with no skills, so yeah, you'll be fine."
"Oh, wow. Is that... Is that supposed to be comforting or something?"
"Maybe my grandparents from my dad's side will come over, too. They came for Dayanne's 18th, so it wouldn't be a stretch, absolutely."
"Lauri," he whined, throwing his head back to drag out a lengthy lament. She looked at him, laughing with her hand in front of her mouth out of reflex.
"You'll be fine. They'll be so excited to meet you anyway, because pretty much everyone expected me to present a boyfriend not earlier than 22 years of age."
"Fuck!" And she laughed harder, hitting his shoulder. "And I thought I'd done my best when meeting your parents and grandparents."
"Oh, come on. They love you, and I'm sure the others will love you too. Just don't pull stunts like the one you pulled on Christmas."
"Hey, that amused them. Annoyed only you," he chuckled, poking her rib, "because," poke, "you're," poke, "so," poke, "fucking," poke, "shy."
And she was squealing nonstop, trying to keep his hands away. Amidst the chaos, they didn't hear when exactly her father came downstairs.
"Oh, hi, Dad."
"Good evening, sir," and Daphne bit her lip to withhold the snorty laugh.
Her father slowly blinked, smiling. "Dacre is just fine, Taehyung. I won't eat you."
Then he slowly turned to Daphne, pursing his lips and slowly blinking. She giggled, hitting his arm again.
"I see you guys have been working on the birthday decorations."
"Mh-hmm," she coughed away her giggles, "yeah, Taehyung brought paint, and we found the perfect shade of red."
"No way," the man spun around, jaw hanging "You helped her make a choice? Like actually make a choice? Wow, you're going up the ranks."
"Yeah?" Taehyung excitedly asked, mouth ajar in a small smile. Then he turned to Daphne and winked.
She rolled her eyes and slouched against the chair. "And I also finished making my nails."
"Now, that's a lot of progress."
"I think I'll find even more paint in my basement. I could stop by on Saturday and Monday if you still need help with the decorations."
Taking a sip from his glass of water, Daphne's dad nodded toward Taehyung, eyes on his daughter as they said 'you see?'. She only rolled her eyes.
"You stopping for dinner, Taehyung?"
"Oh, no, no. I'm actually supposed to leave in a few minutes before my mum comes to pick me up by my ears. I'm barely at home these days."
"And you're eating out with your friends tomorrow."
He snorted, getting up from the chair. "Exactly. I hope I don't fail any exams after the ski trip, else..."
Daphne giggled, watching as he went to the entrance to put on his shoes and jacket. Her dad turned to the sink to rinse the glass, and she quickly sped off to Taehyung.
"So, see you tomorrow," he began, gasping in the kiss and blinking in surprise.
She giggled at his bewilderment. "Yeah, see you tomorrow."
"Talking about heads up." He scoffed and shook his head.
"I didn't sweep you off your feet, did I?"
"I get to decide that. Anyway, bye." He leaned close again for another quick kiss, and within moments, he was out.
—Now playing: High By The Beach by Lana Del Rey ✫
Friday finally broke the stale rhythm of the week because, for some reason Daphne obviously wasn't aware of, Cleo didn't come to school.
Daphne came out in the morning, eyes finding her friend's home out of habit, but there was no one, the same way it'd been since Tuesday, but it was clear the day was set to be different when she found herself walking to the back of the bus by herself.
Adrielle didn't have anyone entertaining her or forcing her to learn crocheting just so she wouldn't be third-wheeling, but she didn't seem to mind: whenever Taehyung tried to include her in some sort of way, feeling bad when he'd glance in her direction, she'd just dismiss his attempts, claiming that she was fine and busy studying ahead for the exams they had after the ski trip.
"I should probably be doing the same," he muttered when he turned to Daphne, but he didn't try to actually take his iPad out. Instead, he hooked his arm with hers and continued reading.
Asher ended up taking Cleo's spot when they got to his bus stop. Jungkook and Avyanna boarded shortly after with their siblings, which surprised basically everyone.
"Your car broke down, Kook?"
"Kook forgot to refill the tank—" Avyanna teased him, settling in the set of seats in front of Daphne and Taehyung.
"Is that a crime? Not my fault your parents don't trust you behind the fucking wheel."
Daphne chuckled to herself. The only day Cleo doesn't come to school, her toxic crush forgets to refill his car and is forced to take the bus like any other peasant—or so they always make it seem.
Unlike the first four days of the week, sitting through six hours of school wasn't as exhausting. What was were Asher's worried and curious eyes, incredibly needy to know the juice fuelling whatever the fuck was happening between her and Cleo.
The journey back home was also less stressful, and she didn't have to walk home facing Cleo's backpack.
This didn't mean that the temptation to text her, ask her if she was fine, didn't pull on every single cell in her body.
As planned, Taehyung was out eating with his friends at El Grillo's cuisine, so after Asher got off at his stop, she travelled home all alone, reading, listening to music, and watching as the bus gradually got emptier the more it approached the terminal and her house.
It hadn't rained yet; in fact, it wasn't even expected, but the sky remained gloomy, the clouds heavy and dark, and the whole country dim, as if viewed through foggy lenses.
She didn't look at Cleo's house today, proceeding to her front gates. As expected, Loki and Luke were already barking and scratching on the door before she even finished closing the gate behind herself.
She didn't immediately head to the front door, pausing to skip the song playing because after yesterday's experience in her room, she couldn't listen to Cola the same way she used to.
Daphne liked Fridays; everyone did. It was the only day of the school week when she'd dive into her bed instead of her books after lunch. And she knew her parents also loved it because they always finished earlier on Fridays.
"Welcome home, Daphne." Her father poked his head out of the corner and waved at her. She smiled and waved back.
"Hello!" She closed the door, dropping her bag by the entrance to take off her jacket. "What are you making?"
"Oh, I'm just doing the dishes, but your meal's right here. Still warm, but you can always heat it if you wish."
Her body sighed in satisfaction when she slipped her feet out of her boots, twisting her ankles to get comfortable. Loki and Luke led the way to the kitchen, tails wagging around.
"Where's mum?" She moved around, lifting the lid to see what she'd have for lunch.
"Up— Oh," he paused, hearing the woman's footsteps, "here she comes— Honey, did your spidey sense go off or something?
Daphne's mum briefly hummed, confused, before smiling at her daughter and welcoming her home. "Hey, darling. You're back. How was school?"
"Just got ignored," the dad muttered to himself, pouting and pretending to be overly offended.
"Fine," Daphne shrugged, carrying her food to the dining table, "just the same blues. The teachers still have to start listing out the dates for exams, but besides that suspense, it's pretty much the same."
"Are you excited for next week?" Her mother settled next to her around the table.
Daphne looked up, smiled and nodded. "Yeah, Taehyung's getting driven to school by his friend if I remember correctly, and grandpa offered to escort me."
"Yeah, yeah, he just told me, like, moments ago." Her mother held her smile, watching as Daphne began eating.
It was lovely really, but there was something about the unfading attention that felt like her mum was keeping something down, and it just made Daphne feel a bit on edge.
"What?" she began, taking a spoonful of rice.
Just as she'd feared, her mother first glanced at her father and then back at her. That made Daphne instantly stop chewing, swallowing everything in a single go.
"Mum, Dad, what's up?" She frowned, leaving the spoon on the plate. "I'm not going anymore?"
"Oh, no, no, no. That's absolutely not the issue. You're going, obviously." The nervous laughter that followed her mother's words didn't ease her nerves, and Daphne's frown only deepened.
"Then what's the issue?"
Her father dried his hands, leaving the towel on the counter to pull a chair and sit in front of her. That made Daphne straighten her back, and her mind grew fast and restless legs.
"What? Where's—" but Loki and Luke were there in the living room alive and well. She'd met them on her way inside, but her parents were kind of scaring her.
"Oh, god, darling. The dogs are okay," her mother intervened again, noticing the path her eyes followed.
"Then what is it?" Her tone was a bit frustrated, and she looked down fast and apologised.
"No, we're sorry. We're dragging this too long. It's not that serious, but it's also serious." Finally her dad spoke up.
"We just," her mum shrugged, "just wanted to talk about you and Taehyung."
Daphne's face contorted in even stronger confusion. "W-what? What about us—"
"We're not trying to make you uncomfortable, my dear, but this is a discussion we must have. We had it with your sister, and now it's your turn."
The frown slowly melted away, only for Daphne's face to go blank with growing discomfort pumping through her veins.
"It's just that, erm," her mother sighed, angling her body toward the daughter, "yesterday, your father, he saw... hickeys—"
"And darling, unless he's suddenly cheating on you, which I wish he isn't, absolutely, those marks are your own creation."
Daphne had already swallowed her food and her taste buds had been overwhelmed enough, and yet when she caught the direction of the conversation, everything felt like coming back up.
Her eyes went a bit wide, not big enough to show surprise but just enough to show that she was processing not the words, but the fact that they were discussing it at all.
"Mum, Dad, I know the dangers—"
"Daphne, as your parents, it's our duty to guide you and make sure you don't end up making mistakes you'll regret."
"But I know what you guys mean. Nothing happened, okay?"
Her father instantly caught the edge in her tone despite her eyes being glued on her food, which she still hadn't touched.
"Can I," she sighed heavily, "can I just have lunch? I'm pretty hungry."
Her mother sharply exhaled next to her, while her father shook his head, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
"I knew it'd go like this," he said to his wife, and Daphne looked up, eyeing both.
"Honey," her mum tried to intervene. "Honey, let's—"
"No." Voice stern. "Daphne, I know this topic makes you incredibly uncomfortable, but you can't run away from it forever—"
"Honey—"
"No, let me speak. Daphne?" Her gaze was back on the food again. "Daphne? Look at me when I'm talking to you."
"Honey, this isn't the way to go about it—"
"Then what is? You guys keep talking about how she's grown enough to do certain things. Well, fine. Since you're old enough for things like this to happen, then you're also old enough to talk about it—"
"But dad, I know—"
"What do you know?!"
"Honey," his wife sighed, shaking her head. "I told you that—"
Grabbing her food, Daphne got up from her chair, walking out of the dining room.
"Daphne?" he called, "Daphne, where are you going? You can't run away from it forever!"
—Now playing: Pretty When You Cry by Lana Del Rey ✫
But Daphne had already closed the door behind herself, stepping into her grandparents' home.
She wasn't crying, but the discomfort of mentioning topics like that around her parents was making something itch beneath her skin in a way that she couldn't describe, just feel, and she didn't want to feel it.
"Who's there?" Granny poked her head into the small hallway. That door was barely used. Whenever anyone wanted to come over to her house, they'd walk through the backyard or just go through the front door.
That little corridor used to be busy when Dayanne and Daphne were younger. They'd always use that door to run from their parents' home to their grandparents' without exiting the building.
But now, Daphne was standing there, head against the door, plate in hand, and chest rising and deflating to regain herself.
"Oh, Jesus. Darling, are you alright?"
She wasn't crying, and she'd sworn to herself that she wouldn't since her parents made their intentions clear, but hearing Granny's sweet voice trying to comfort her, something broke in her, and her lips automatically came into a pout.
"Oh, my dear," the old woman cooed, walking up to her, arm draping over her shoulders to guide her to the living room. "What happened?"
To avoid any disaster, she placed the plate on the table before taking her granddaughter in a hug, feeling her arms come up around her slowly but securely.
"Shh," she swayed, closing her eyes when she heard Daphne sob. "Take it easy."
Meanwhile, Daphne didn't know whether to cry solely from the discussion, for even crying at all, or for how the entire week had gone.
"Hey, shh," Granny hummed, guiding her to sit. "Let me get you something to clean your tears away— Come on, stop crying, okay? You're going to ruin your mascara, honey."
Daphne bit the corner of her mouth, right leg already restless and nails rubbing on her jeans. She briefly followed Granny with her eyes as she went into the kitchen, but her gaze returned to her lap where her nails were drawing lines.
She knew that if she later lifted her fingers and looked under her nails, she'd find the blue material of her jeans, but she didn't care. It usually bothered her, but today wasn't usual.
"Here you go." Granny returned, giving her paper towels to blow her nose and fix the little mess running down her cheeks.
"What happened? I saw you coming back from school, and everything seemed fine."
Unconsciously, Daphne had reached for Granny's hand, which was on her knee, to stop her from speaking further. If she mentioned school another time, she might break apart again, mind quickly flooding with memories she'd rather leave buried somewhere else.
"You have barely eaten," she glanced at the plate of rice. "Come on, eat up, and we'll talk later, okay?"
Biting her cheek and sniffing into the paper towel, she nodded.
"Perfect. I'm right here. Call me if you need anything. I even have some chocolate cupcakes. Want me to heat one for you?"
Without hesitation, Daphne nodded. Granny smiled and returned to the kitchen after urging her to eat one last time.
The distractions she thought would help her get through the week were the same thing that pushed her over the edge. But she didn't know if blaming it solely on the week was completely correct.
"That was so fucking dramatic," she mumbled to herself, shoving the crumbled paper towel into her pocket and inching closer to the chair.
So dramatic, because any good parent wouldn't want their child to make mistakes like that, in such a field. But she'd sworn she wouldn't cry no matter how uncomfortable it'd become, until her father raised his voice.
Daphne wanted to cup her ears, but that would be rude, and he would probably ground her for that.
That wasn't the way to handle conflict, and hadn't she been so stubborn, it never would've escalated into such. But it still felt incredibly weird to talk about it with her parents.
"We're not trying to make you uncomfortable, my dear, but this is a discussion we must have. We had it with your sister, and now it's your turn."
Yeah, but Dayanne was different. She'd never cower away from such a conversation, never would cower away from conflicts; in fact, she'd know exactly what to say. Daphne never did, and it always landed her in spots like this.
She chewed on her spoonful of rice, watching as Granny worked in the kitchen, probably preparing something complicated as she usually did.
Daphne tore her eyes off her grandmother when she turned around to face her. "Here's your cupcake, darling."
She smiled and thanked her. Granny's grin didn't falter.
"Then what is? You guys keep talking about how she's grown enough to do certain things. Well, fine. Since you're old enough for things like this to happen, then you're also old enough to talk about it—"
They weren't in the 1800s. She didn't need a sex education class. Her mum and Dayanne have been constantly offering to take her to a gynaecologist if she ever felt like visiting one in the future, and Daphne knew everything about protection and safe sex. She didn't need to sit through such a dreadful discussion.
She was old enough to know about it. She'd read about it, watched it movies, read about it in books and Reddit threads, and if she had any questions, she'd ask them, but at the moment she had none, and the last thing she'd want was to sit down and face her parents as they talked about it.
Plus, they were just hickeys, literally faint marks that fade away. Why make such a huge deal about it? And wasn't Taehyung wearing his hoodie the whole day yesterday?
But the chances he took it off and forgot to put it on again around her father were very high, since he was a walking heater.
—Now playing: Chemtrails Over The Country Club by Lana Del Rey ✫
Her phone was on the dining table, but she had a feeling her parents were still there, probably fighting because they couldn't choose one way to approach the topic with her.
"Like the cupcake?" Granny asked from the kitchen.
Didn't take long for Daphne to empty her plate and reach for the chocolate snack. She smiled and nodded, taking the plates with her.
"Always will, Granny."
Shoving the last bite in her mouth, she moved to the sink, quickly washing off the plates and drying her hands.
"What are you making?"
"Small pizzas. You could take some to school as a snack, and I'm also trying out an alternate recipe for your birthday."
Daphne smiled, palms flat on the counter as support. "Thanks, Granny. Really."
"Oh, darling, don't mention it. I love baking."
Fridays don't usually go like this in Daphne's head. At this time she'd be stripping out of her clothes, taking a shower, and diving into bed.
Outside was still gloomy, not in the depressing way. It looked cosy from her bedroom window. The grey sky would bleed through the white curtains and clash with the golden shade of her lamp, while she buried herself under her warm blanket.
And after the nap, she'd have a snack and finally sit at her desk, or maybe, if it finally began raining, she'd grab a book, sit in the armchair upstairs by the window, and just read while the raindrops battered against the glass.
Instead, she was standing next to Granny after bawling her eyes out and looking at the door to her home with dread and nostalgia in the same breath.
"So," Granny sighed, and Daphne turned her head to look at her, "mind telling me what happened?"
Ugh, why didn't anyone just get that she sucked at voicing out her mind? Taehyung literally had to cup her face and make her look at him before she had the balls to tell him that she loved him, let alone face her parents and talk about sex... with her as the protagonist.
Between her and Dayanne, she was the one who grimaced as a child whenever she caught her parents kissing, for god's sake.
She shrugged, left hand playing with the sleeve of her sweater. "Just..."
Granny glanced at her, eyes returning to the work right after. It was quick, but it was encouragement anyway.
"Dad, he, erm," she cleared her throat, "he saw hickeys on Taehyung's neck."
She said in a single breath, refusing to meet Granny's eyes when she looked up. "Oh."
"Yeah, and from there, he..."
"Was he upset?"
"No, no, he just... they just wanted to talk about it." She finally raised her gaze, nodding mostly to herself.
"And that's it?"
"Yeah, I know. I'm being overdramatic—"
"I never said that—"
"But I did, and it isn't a lie, like..." she sighed, shifting her weight to the other leg, "I know that he doesn't have bad intentions, but do we really have to? Like, I'm not dumb. I know right from wrong, and I- I just don't want to discuss it. Gosh, I sound bratty, right?"
"You're just not comfortable enough to talk about it. I understand you, darling, and your feelings are absolutely valid..." she paused her activity, "but you also can't run away from the topic forever, especially now. You do have a boyfriend."
"Yeah, but like, it's just going to be talks about protection and safe sex, and I know all that stuff—"
"Doesn't matter. Your parents might know more than you do, and even if they don't, they can't just go on assuming you know your left from your right every time. They must sit you down and talk about it, make sure that they didn't leave you to the wind."
Daphne bit her cheek again, shifting in the spot again without uttering a word.
"They're being healthy about it. Some parents would go berserk if they saw hickeys on their children's lovers' necks. Some go crazy if their children date at all. You're seventeen, about to be eighteen in a week. You should understand that."
"Yeah, but it feels so weird, like I literally want to shred my skin into pieces and crawl out of my body—"
"And that's just how life can get, honey. Not everything is going to be smooth, black or white. There's some grey from time to time; in fact, most of the time, and you just have to brace yourself."
Essentially the same thing Daphne had told herself, but hearing it still didn't change the reality of things: talking about it would make her so uncomfortable, and maybe no word would register in her brain because her body would be busy getting disgusted by itself.
"You fought over this?"
She shrugged. "He got angry because I was avoidant."
Granny sighed, cleaning her hands before patting Daphne's shoulder. "Okay, see what we'll do: we bake here, let things die down a little, and I'll talk to Dad so you both approach the topic without getting angry and uncomfortable, okay?"
It wasn't like she had much of a choice anyway. Daphne nodded, and Granny urged her to head to the sink. "Wash your hands and come help me out."
—Now playing: Don’t Speak by No Doubt ✫
Doing house chores is maybe the only activity to be commonly seen as a pain in the arse. It's seen like a waste of time sometimes: the hours you could spend tidying up your house could be used to do something else, something more productive.
But cleaning up after ourselves isn't just a societal setting, it's literal biology. We have specific cells that exist just to clean up, and while we get rid of our waste by leaving bags in a dumpster, our body just expels everything through urine and faeces.
The garbage truck always came by on Saturdays just after lunchtime, when essentially every townsperson had cleaned their home and gathered the trash outside.
But that wasn't why Daphne was tidying up her room and sweeping the floors. It sounded almost like an oxymoron, but sometimes cleaning was therapeutic. Watching as you got rid of the mess around you was satisfying and fulfilling, and it felt like indirectly reorganising your thoughts.
She'd rearranged the boxes under her bed, changed the sheets and pillowcase, decluttered her desk and vanity and even fixed a few messy clothes in her wardrobe and chest of drawers.
Cleaning the bathroom was a task she left for the next day, so it didn't take long before she was dusting out her carpet and sweeping the floor.
The little pizzas she'd made with Granny were filling the house with a marvellous scent that made her grow hungrier with every passing second, but just as it had been for the past mornings, the more time passed, the more she remembered what she had to face later on.
Before it was Cleo and her undying efforts to avoid her, and now, it was this and whatever her parents wanted to discuss.
Granny had offered that they all eat together.
"We could all eat here, no?" She'd said, pointing at the large table in the dining room. Daphne's first reply was literally bulging her eyes out of their sockets.
Granny had chuckled and sighed. "Darling, it can't be that bad. I don't think they'd bring it up during dinner."
"I was eating when they brought it up for the first time. I'm not taking any chances."
And for this, she'd later have to go over to Granny's kitchen to collect dinner and hope that nothing would go down as they ate. Regardless, it was better with just her parents. Granny and Grandpa didn't need to be present.
Loki and Luke were leading the way downstairs when Daphne finally had the shower she'd been longing for since the first class of the day. Her hair was still a bit damp, but it smelled nice, so it was even.
She'd basically changed into her sleepwear, not in the conventional sense, though. It was just a pair of sweatpants, a random oversized sweater that fell off a shoulder, and thick socks to prevent her feet from turning into ice blocks.
Her father was reading in the armchair, and her mother was working on her laptop. Daphne walked past them into the kitchen, filling herself a glass of water whilst scrolling on her phone.
Her back was facing them, choosing not to see their expressions now that she finally showed herself after running off to Granny and locking herself up in her bedroom.
She wasn't doing anything important in and of itself. She was mostly going through Instagram stories, seeing bits and pieces of Taehyung's hangout with his friends, a random picture of the gloomy day on Asher's story, and updates from other accounts she followed.
Literally nothing meaningful.
Taehyung had clearly spent the entire afternoon with his friends. After El Grillo's, they'd moved to Jimin's house and hung out there, and given the background in his latest snap, he'd recently left to return home.
From time to time, she'd return to the profiles of her former classmates just to see how they were faring and how life was treating them. The first time she'd done it was shortly after moving, but as she found a new friend group, the consistency started lacking until it was a once-in-a-blue-moon type of thing.
It was around November that she'd discovered that Margot had stopped following her, and the realisation panged in her chest a little, because a part of her was subtly expecting it, but she still couldn't help feeling disappointed.
Call her petty, call her childish, but she didn't think twice about it before unfollowing Margot as well. So now, instead of using her spam account to click on her stories, she'd just click on her profile and look for new posts.
Her whole vibe seemed to have changed: she went from looking like a bookworm and a socially anxious nerd to having full-on photoshoots on her grid.
This wouldn't have mattered—in fact, Daphne would've complimented her—if only the new look didn't remind her of another girl in her class—not a random choice either.
Her name was Stacey, auburn hair, blue eyes, freckles all over her body, but most especially she was stunning, not in the classic popular girl kind, nothing like Sharpay Evans or Regina George, but more like Kat Stratford.
It wasn't a replica, but something similar in a unique way still. Margot's new vibe, on the other hand, looked like a complete copy, and Daphne wondered if it was born from distance or close envy.
Was she now friends with Stacey? And if yes, why blatantly copy her vibe like this, especially given who she used to be just a few months ago? Could others tell? Were people talking behind her back? And if she was friends with Stacey, did she think it'd last like this?
Not like it mattered to Daphne anyway. Margot was now just a bunch of pixels on her phone and nothing more, and whether she reached out or not, she knew it wouldn't change anything. In fact, she'd seen it coming since the last school year.
She deleted Margot's profile from her recent searches and returned to the homepage, only for a message to pop up on the screen.
grannie :3 | 07:09 PMThe food's ready
Daphne turned her phone off, left it on the counter to rinse off the glass, and went straight to her grandparents' to retrieve the food.
—Now playing: O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds ✫
"I'd like to know your reviews, yeah?" Granny had told her as she accompanied her to the door. Daphne nodded with a smile, holding the tray with cooking gloves and thanking her grandma for holding the door for her.
"I know it's going to be awesome anyway. Thank you," she carolled.
Her parents took her leave as a sign she was going to take the pizzas, so they quickly set the table, plates and cups clanging together as they moved from kitchen to dining room.
"Wow," her mother began first, eyeing the tray, "you girls really outdid yourself, huh?"
Daphne briefly smiled, placing the tray on the wooden board at the centre of the table. "It's mostly Granny, but thanks."
"Grandpa brought us this juice this afternoon." Her father carried a jug of purple juice, placing it on the table. "Made with berries."
"Ooh, nice. I love berries," and Daphne instantly reached for it, filling her glass.
"Yeah, you do," he chuckled, dragging the chair with him as he sat down. "Since we're here this summer, you'll have as many as you want. Granny has a huge farm of it."
"I know, Dad. It isn't my first ride." Her mind instantly took a trip down memory lane back to when she was nine years old and an avid berry-eater.
Her mother softly laughed, swiftly connecting the dots. "Oh, I know what you're referring to—"
"Yeah, and let's not talk about it. It's pretty embarrassing even just to picture in my mind, let alone voice it out."
"Aww, but you looked adorable—"
"Dad," she breathily laughed, the sound sharp, almost a scoff of disbelief, "I literally had Dayanne screaming because she thought I was a monster. I mean, I looked like one."
"Dayanne can be a little dramatic sometimes, and you know that; besides, you'd just... stained your entire face, nothing more."
Daphne puffed. "Yeah, mum," she shrugged, "nothing more, thank god."
"I think we still have the picture somewhere—"
"Doesn't matter. Let's try the pizza, please," she slowly closed her eyes and sighed.
"Darling," her father's voice caught a tone way too familiar and way too deep in a soft timbre that Daphne knew either meant he was getting serious about something equally as serious or getting serious to say something so cheesy that her skin would crawl away from her body.
"Darling, it's completely fine. You don't need to keel over in embarrassment every time. Sometimes things are just the way they are, and it's completely normal."
Daphne swallowed the juice, slowly leaving the glass on the table. Her eyes were on her father, studying him, hoping that he wasn't trying to hint at what she feared he was hinting at.
Ugh, she shouldn't have locked herself in her room. She should've eavesdropped on whatever Granny could have told him.
"Is," she cleared her throat, reaching for the pizza but not really to eat, "is this about... before?"
The silence from both parents was enough of an answer. Daphne sucked her cheeks in, biting down before nodding and proceeding to eat.
She hated it; she hated every single second stretching in time just to make her suffer, but it was clear they'd never drop it—exactly, they gave it just a few hours, and they were back to it—so she just had to let them say whatever they wanted to say and get it over with, instead of leaving like an inmate on death row.
"Daphne, I'm sorry about before," her dad began, pizza folded in half in his hand. "My goal wasn't to get so angry, and I know you get squeamish when it comes to talking about things like this so out in the open, but it has to be addressed."
"And we're doing it for your own good," her mum butted in. "It's not because we enjoy seeing you feel embarrassed. We just need to make sure you're in the right lane, so you don't end up making mistakes or having regrets."
Daphne continued chewing, eyes now on the jug of juice. She nodded, quickly looked at them and then averted her gaze elsewhere again.
"Now," her father dropped the pizza on his plate, cleaning his hands with a paper towel. "We're not here to ask you exactly what you and Taehyung could've done."
"Yeah, we're not going to sit here and act like we were celibates at your age, and I know what you mean when you claim to know about it all. I had the same conviction, but trust me, the merrier the better, hmm?"
Daphne looked at her mum, tongue running along her teeth and briefly nodded. The woman glanced at her husband, taking the silence as a sort of green light, and smiled.
"Okay," her mother hissed, now cleaning her own hands as well, "tell me..."
And Daphne froze mid-bite, "things are going well with Taehyung, no?"
She was unsure of where things were going with that question, but she tried fighting against the hesitation. Her first response was a curt nod, jaw slowly moving to resume eating.
"Hmm," her mum nodded, glancing at her husband again. "He's treating you well, isn't making you feel uneasy?"
"No, no. He's fine, really," she finally spoke, back straightening just a little bit. "He's—"
"Not to start anything, but for example, have you guys ever fought— I know it feels a bit early to—"
"Yes, we have."
"Oh," her mum paused, quickly nodding and looking at her husband with a small smile. "Oh, yeah, well, seems like you guys have talked it out, no?"
"Yeah, we did. It's in the past now." And she reached for the jug, filling her cup with more juice.
"Daphne, if you don't mind me asking, was it like a little couple's argument or..." The constant shrugs between her father's words were a clear way of trying to downplay everything. She also did it; she learned it from him, actually.
So she shrugged as well. "It's not like we broke up, so yeah, I'd say a couple's argument."
"Oh, well," he shrugged again, "that's bound to happen eventually. Your mum and I have a couple of quarrels here and there, but what matters is how we communicate, hmm?"
Daphne nodded, now less hesitant to look at them for longer.
Her mother cleared her throat. "After this fight, did you feel like the issue would repeat itself or not?"
The amount of juice Daphne swallowed in a single go almost made her chest hurt. She froze for a split second before resuming unbothered. Her shoulders communicated first. A shrug.
"I mean... we, it was kind of about him, not really our relationship." Now she was the one reaching for the paper towel.
"I think he's got some family issues, and..."
"Oh, I get where you're heading to." Her father leaned back against the chair. "He's still a bit reserved, is that what you mean?"
"Yeah," she nervously chuckled, crossing her legs under the table and rubbing her hands on her knees. "And I completely understand it. It's just that... it, like, made him really upset, and he becomes avoidant pretty quickly."
"Sounds like you, no?" he teased her, and she rolled her eyes, a small grin on her lips.
"Dayanne told me the same thing, but she said that with time he'd open up, and we'd finally address the elephant in the room."
Her mum pursed her lips, nodding as she sliced the pizza into small bites.
"So," she began, "besides his family issues, you guys are moving pretty strong?"
"Yeah." Daphne's voice became a bit breathy, tiny in volume but not in tone. "I, erm, we... we said it to each other— At least, he said it first—"
"What?" Her dad leaned over with a gasp. "The three magic words?"
And Daphne nodded, cheeks swelling in a shy smile as her parents sharply inhaled at the news.
"Oh, so you guys are really good." Her mother giggled, rubbing the paper towel on her mouth. "Wow."
"Yeah. I don't know if it's too soon, but... it feels right, you know?"
"Yeah, I understand you, darling. Always remember, quality over quantity. You always used to say it to your mum whenever she worried about your lack of friends, remember?"
Daphne scoffed, chuckling and briefly looking down at her plate. "Yeah, but it's, like, my first time having a boyfriend, and there isn't exactly a guideline about it. I just kind of follow my gut feeling."
"And that's absolutely beautiful, but it's also the reason why, as your parents, we need to make sure you're not making a mistake at the same time." Her mother reached for her hand. "We're humans, we're not perfect. We're bound to make mistakes, but some mistakes can be bigger and worse than others. We just have to try our best to prevent them."
Daphne nodded, biting her cheek again. The taste of the juice was dying on her tongue.
"I... about the hickeys, it was just in the heat of the moment, and I don't even know exactly how I made them, but it happened. We didn't do...like, we didn't have sex or anything. And I know... always use protection." She sped through the last few words. "This week has just been a little hectic, and when I got comfortable, I kind of got carried away."
Her father chuckled. "I know that you think that this chat is just about protection. That's the obvious. You're our baby, but you're almost eighteen and have an older sister who keeps offering herself to take you to the gynaecologist, so that's kind of a given. But sex is beyond just protection to prevent pregnancy or STDs and STIs."
Daphne had to consciously keep her eyes on her dad, because her instincts were yelling at her to look elsewhere, get cover.
"It's also about you, your feelings, if you're ready, if you're nervous, if you're unsure."
She nodded, will breaking and eyes falling to her glass of juice.
"We don't want you to maybe feel pressured by him or others into doing anything. When I was your age, I remember some kids treating sex like a milestone you must hit during your teenage years, else you're a loser. And yep," her mum sighed, "it's not just in the movies. Art reflects reality."
"Yeah, and that was like in the 80s." Her dad scoffed, tilting his head as he reached for the jug of water. "And I don't exactly know how the scene is today, but I feel like I wouldn't be entirely wrong to say it stayed the same."
Daphne pursed her lips, nodding. "Yeah, kind of stayed the same. I think here it isn't as chaotic as it was in the city. The mentality is a bit different. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if my guy friends are perverted, but they do keep those talks away from us, so I guess it's fine."
It was a bit funny to be having such a conversation, because her parents didn't exactly know she was a smoker. It wasn't an addiction, just mostly something she did at parties, but they believed her lungs were just as biology dictated, with no external disturbance.
"Well, that's even better. Relief, in fact." Her father smiled after going through half of his glass of water. "Teenagers tend to want to grow fast because in their minds being grown means independence and freedom, but all that comes with a load of responsibilities they seem to always ignore."
"Now, smoking and drinking are inherently wrong, but sex is not. It depends on the setting, who you're with, and how you go about it."
"Mh-hmm," her father agreed, adding his bit before biting into the pizza. "So when your mum and your sister are offering to take you to the gynaecologist, they're not trying to make you uncomfortable; they're just looking out for you."
"Plus, visiting the gynaecologist is for your own health also, not just your sex life, okay?" Her mother smiled. "Just... just don't let anyone pressure you into doing anything or judge you, and remember that you can always stop. You don't need to see it through to the end, okay?"
Daphne nodded, now biting into the pizza out of hunger and not discomfort.
Her parents smiled together, high-fiving each other with proud glances. Daphne obviously noticed, and she rolled her eyes.
—Now playing: Ode To My Family by The Cranberries ✫
"Anyway," her mother sighed, still smiling, "I heard Taehyung offered to help with the decorations. How kind."
"Oh, yeah," Daphne swallowed, "he said he could come over tomorrow and on Monday before the ski trip."
"Darling, you don't need to worry much. We'll also take care of everything, so it's perfect by the time you're back, okay?" Her father's cheeks were swollen from the pizza bite and the grin.
"Yeah, I know, and thanks. It's just that... I know it ties back to your whole peer pressure discourse, but I don't know if everything's good enough. I mean, I moved to the country, and I'm now in contact with kids who seem to have generational wealth."
Her parents sighed in unison, but her mum replied first. "Oh, I completely understand."
She turned to her husband. "They are indeed incredibly rich."
"You know the first party I went to when we moved?"
And they hummed.
"It was at one of Taehyung's friends' homes, and that house...? That house's massive, and I'm not exaggerating. Taehyung's house, I don't know if you've seen it yet, but it literally looks like a modern zen house, and he said that his father had built it up from the ground shortly after his parents got married."
"Oh, wow," her dad scoffed.
"Yeah. His best friend, Jimin, his parents own that big and beautiful restaurant in town—"
"Oh, El Grillo's Cuisine?"
"Yeah, I've been there a couple of times. The food and the place are awesome. His other friends are also rich, and," she wiped the crumbs from around her mouth, "yesterday, he told me that they're all applying for this prestigious college. Some are going for law, carrying on the family legacy; he's going for engineering, and others can even consider taking a break to travel around."
Her parents were so impressed they couldn't even speak any longer, just gasp and contort their faces in surprise.
"And also, skiing for them is a tradition. Taehyung and Jimin, the one from the restaurant, invited me, said they'd like to have me there, and presented the ski trip as a freaking tradition, Dad. Crazy, and the whole activity, the availability of the resort, etc., is thanks to his friend's parents' connections."
"Damn," her dad softly laughed, "where do they go for the summer? Daphne, they might be taking you on yacht rides at this point."
And they laughed together, commenting about how that would be an experience.
"And they're all invited to your birthday?" Her mum wiggled her brows. Daphne rolled her eyes again.
"Yes, they are—"
"Ooh!" The couple gasped together.
"Dear, you might be receiving crazy gifts.""Yeah, especially from Taehyung's family. How close are you with them?"
Daphne chuckled, shaking her head. "Dad..."
"Come on, you're such a lovable person. There's no way they don't adore you."
"I mean," she shrugged, and her parents started egging her on with sounds close to being animalistic, "his grandmother likes me—"
"Obviously the grandmother—""We really gave birth to a golden child."
"Oh, my god," she laughed, the sound coming in sharp exhales, "they won't gift me a car or anything."
"But something good is coming anyway, no?"
"I hope." She shrugged, filling her glass with juice. "The sleepover at his cabin kind of made me grow closer with his friends, so I don't think I'll just be receiving happy birthday letters."
"Oh," her mum turned to her husband, "this just reminded me that we're meeting Taehyung's family on your birthday. We invited everybody."
"Oh, you're right, honey."
"I hope you're not also feeling pressured to look a certain way," Daphne teased them.
Her parents turned to her and puffed together.
"Oh, absolutely not.""That would make us sound like hypocrites."
"Taehyung's nervous about our families meeting, especially if Theo, Tara,grandma Filomena, and grandpa Stefano are really coming."
"Oh, tell him he has nothing to worry about. He's just as lovable as you are, so he's fine—"
"Daphne," her dad froze, "you've basically emptied the whole jug."
"I mean," she laughed, shrugging, "it's right in front of me."
"Because you hoarded it—"
"First come, first served, Dad."
—Now playing: Army Dreamers by Kate Bush ✫
Daphne's hands had been freshly moisturised, palms so soft to the touch that her pen almost slipped between her fingers.
The slippery grip was evident through the shapes of the letters she wrote in her journal, but it didn't matter, didn't bother her as much as it normally would, because she was pouring down an avalanche of information, fingers moving faster, and therefore, making her write not as neatly.
The position she'd chosen was incredibly comfortable at the moment. Her pillows were propped against the bedframe, and the few plushies were arranged around her to support her elbows the same way an armchair would.
Her hair, now fully dry, was a bit frizzy, needy of oil or anything that would moisturise it beyond simple conditioner. But that task was pushed down in the priority list, so her hair was now gathered in a single quick braid she'd soon undo before bed.
The last dozen pages of her journal contained information under a different shade, one not as bright as when she'd newly moved to the country nor as rosy as the ones spent detailing her last date with Taehyung.
Actually, the fact that she'd just used roughly a dozen pages to talk about one of the worst times that year wasn't so surprising, but it still stood out.
It'd also been like that when she fought with Taehyung for the first time. Something about it just wouldn't let her come up with the right words, and even if she found them, she'd suddenly unlearn how to arrange them into a sentence.
She paused, dropping the pen on the bed to clean the cream off her palm a bit better. Satisfied enough, she resumed the activity, not before fixing her glasses.
She didn't know what else to write. Just as it was hard to have that talk with her parents, the same way she couldn't retrace her steps and write about it. One thing was writing pure smut; a whole other thing was... that. And it wasn't entirely out of shyness—she'd already read smut herself, nothing new. She just got embarrassed at record speed.
After spinning the pen between her fingers, she was just putting down new words when her phone screen lit up with a notification. Out of habit, she ignored it for a few beats until she'd reached the full stop.
Snapping the journal closed and tying its lacy strings, she shoved it into her drawer and finally grabbed her phone, turning to lie on her stomach, feet now hanging before the pile of pillows.
Another snap from Taehyung. This time the main focus wasn't him but Yeontan, who was peacefully sleeping on his bed. The caption read: "Now what the fuck do I do?".
The picture was adorable, to say the least, so her finger moved with a brain of its own and saved the snap into the chat before coming up with something to text him back.
To match his picture, she looked up, eyes finding Loki outside her bedroom door, lying there like a guardian angel. Luke was probably downstairs by the entrance.
Daphne quickly took a picture and sent it to him, giggling and sitting up to cross her legs.
There was still some rustling coming from the ground floor, meaning that her mum was still busy doing only god knows what, since they'd done the dishes together. Her father, on the other hand, was in his bedroom.
Clearly Taehyung was busy at the moment, so his reply didn't come immediately after, but the gap was still long enough for Daphne to exit the chat, now looking at the homepage and casually going through her contacts.
Naturally so, amongst them was Cleo, but the unnatural part was the date and time they'd last sent each other a snap.
The last message was hers, a good morning snap in reply to Daphne's on Monday. Then ever since, just crickets, which was a sound Daphne had grown to love when she newly moved to the country. It wasn't heard of in the city, and it made her feel connected to nature.
Now, it was something she needed music to block out.
For some reason she chose not to address it at the moment, she moved to her recent apps and launched onto Instagram. Her fingers quickly moved, following the questionable decisions her brain was making.
She typed in the first half of her username, and Avyanna's profile came up as the first result.
The followers count seemed to increase by the day. Just last week she had roughly seven thousand, and now she was five hundred followers away from eight thousand.
Her bio was short: nickname, age, date of birth, and a random quote. Then followed four highlights before the grid of almost fifty posts.
The quote in the bio said 'almost ghostly xx', but clearly she didn't hesitate before clicking the 'post' button.
Her last thread was recently posted—within the week—with the caption 'early monthly dump pt.1'.
The first picture was a mirror selfie. Avyanna was wearing panties, which sat very low on her hips, and a loose crop top falling off her shoulder.
At first, the picture seemed innocent—aside from the amount of skin revealed—but Daphne also knew Tumblr, and a picture like this would motivate insecure girls to do wrong things.
The second one reminded her of Cleo's words, but unlike the post she was referring to on Monday, in this picture they know Avyanna is of age, going to nineteen, so despite the focus being literally on her butt, although to show the glittery decorations on the back of her jeans, it wasn't as much of an issue.
The slideshow was probably the collection of pictures she'd taken after a shopping spree; before, despite the poses and camera angles, the focus was always on her attire. One moment she was showing off her new purse, and the next she was posing on a bed with wide-legged jeans and vintage heels, probably Dior, peeking from underneath them.
Avyanna was undeniably pretty, but clearly the kind of posts she made, paired with the rumour that she had something going on with Jungkook, famously known as her best friend, were maybe a bit problematic.
If those rumours were true, Daphne hypothesised, then she wouldn't want to imagine the thoughts going through his head whenever he saw her post pictures so revealing.
Yes, he'd be a pervert, but Daphne still thought it was at least bothersome, because they clearly were trying to play it off as just friends while he could take one look at her and picture her naked.
Scrolling through her profile, she stumbled upon the picture Cleo had shown her in class, the Halloween party selfie. In of itself, there wasn't anything alarming, nothing flashing red lights and ringing ear-deafening bells.
But again, if the rumours were true, being in Cleo's shoes would feel terrible in a way that sits underneath your skin, just a layer away from actually stopping to itch when you'd reach for it.
Generally, if Avyanna wasn't making posts about herself, her cleavage and her ass, she was posting selfies with friends, fit checks, party snaps, holiday moments, and sometimes just her friends without her in the picture.
The only positive thing Daphne thought about was that, at least, Avyanna wasn't dumb enough to be posting herself underage drinking.
Many teenagers tend to carelessly do that.
In a way, though, considering her style and personality, Avyanna was the female version of Jungkook, and this was something Daphne would never tell Cleo.
Jungkook had roughly a thousand followers more than Avyanna, and the numbers surprised Daphne because they did seem like young influencers at this point.
And it had to be something about them because as soon as Daphne herself started mingling with them, started dating Taehyung specifically, her own follower count skyrocketed, making her close to six thousand followers.
And there she was, thinking that the country would have fewer people than the city.
Unlike Avyanna, Jungkook had fewer posts and even fewer with friends. They were mostly pictures of him or scenery. The same went for the highlights: just a single one with only six stories, again, capturing just himself.
Avyanna was a bit more chaotic, scattering random miscellaneous pictures here and there to make her page seem like a mega mood board.
Unsurprisingly, they had mutuals in common, yet Daphne’s finger skipped Taehyung's, skipped her friends' profiles, to hit Adrielle's.
Her profile was like a blend of Jungkook's and Avyanna's—mostly pictures of herself but with significant scenery behind and her face often covered by her hair or still hidden somehow.
For someone as cold as she seemed, her grid looked like summer. Maybe it was her golden blond hair or her fixation with pinks, blues, and greens.
Many pictures were clearly taken during the holidays, but given the dates, she was rather someone who posted occasionally or chose to archive a few.
One thing stood out, though, as Daphne scrolled through her page, replaying Cleo's words in her mind: if Adrielle was as much of a threat as she seemed, the fact that her Instagram grid looked normal was almost eerie.
When Daphne first started following her during the first few weeks of school, she admired her from afar for her beauty and mannerisms.
She had a Beabadoobee song in her bio, loved scenic photos, and ran to become school representative—crazy material in Daphne’s book.
But now things were different, and since there wasn't any suspicious picture of her with Taehyung and the most revealing clothes she'd wear were cropped tops and tanks with slim strings, Daphne completely turned her phone off, sighing almost in relief because she didn't let it get to her head.
Better like that, safer like that.
♥༻ gαя∂ɛɳιαѕ ༺♥
❀: thots and opinions?
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Hold on a lil minute^^
I love posting a reposting little moodboards to give my works dimension and give life to the characters.
For Amor Tam Pulcher, I arranged them with tags which you can find on this post. - tag navigation!
On Notion, there's so much more such a the mock pages of their Instagram profiles, their character profile, and more moodboards per chapter:
general moodboard - here!
characters' portfolio - here!
For better experience, here's a guide on how to explore the page without getting utterly lost <: here!
Like Wordsworth's daffodils: join the community and become a dainty little ro(zy) - JOIN NOW!
But if you're shy, you can join my taglist so we always stay connected. I'm an introvert too, don't worry.
This chapter got your biting your knuckles or feeling butterflies? KIndly share the sensations with everyone here
❁tagline: She's a flower, and he's a butterfly. She's learning to fly, and he's trying to see what life is like when one feels grounded - stable.
❁genre: strangers to lovers, coming-of-age, romance, fluff, smut, angst, cross-posted on Wattpad and ao3
❁current wc: 522.05k+
❁date: 30/03/2024
❁notes: strangers-to-lovers, lots of fluff, smut, a lil angst, taehyung is head over heels for oc, nature lovers (oc loves flowers, taehyung loves butterflies), countryside (looks like Italy because that is the only type of countryside I know and love), oc has a lovely family, taehyung has daddy issues, jimin and jungkook are taehyung's besties (they also have other two girls as best friends); oc has a girl best friend (childhood best friend) and three boys as best friends); oc is so fucking prettyyy, like girl pretty; cross-posted on wattpad and ao3
❁chapters (status - ongoing) ⇀ updates on Fridays, midnight
latest — 10/07
❁pinterest board // main m.list // moodboards & worldbuilding // comment to be added to the TAGLIST❁
❀ ❛intro + tws + a/n❜
meet the cast and take a stroll through the spaces
❀ ❛prologue❜ - 1.57k
Rewriting the story of Daphne and Apollo
⇀ «A love that drives me crazy, a lovely crazy, a sexy crazy, an amazing crazy»
❀ 01 ❛love is all around❜ - 4.47k
On a chilly summer morning, a bouncy curly-haired sun rose up and shone above the flower
❀ 02 ❛ying yang❜ - 4.32k
Photosynthesis: the sun shines bright above the flower providing it with energy which will be transformed into nutrients
❀ 03 ❛the exploratory stage❜ - 5.56k
As the sun shines in its might, it brightens the way for a little flower to see over the horizon
❀ 04 ❛just like old times❜ - 6.72k
The bright rays of the sun show the way to the flower, introducing it to an innocent little bear, a ferret and a little wasp
❀ 05 ❛a monarch butterfly❜ - 4.16k
There, going back home, was an unusual combination of subjects: a cricket, a wing-man, a monarch butterfly, a little pika and a puppy
❀ 06 ❛venus❜ - 4.86k
Who could have ever thought that a flower could grow in space? Who? No one surely and yet... there it was, standing upright in its beauty
❀ 07 ❛a laurel❜ - 4.92k
He knew he wasn't meant to fly to space because he physically couldn't but this thought wouldn't stop him. Was he being pretentious? Trying to exceed his limits?
❀ 08 ❛fuck you!❜ - 6.10k
Normally, flowers are in people's gardens or on a bed of green grass so... what the hell is one singular one doing in the middle of the ocean. Does it know, does anyone know, that too much water will cause it harm... especially when the water is salty?
❀ 09 ❛en route❜ - 5.07k
With its six tiny feet into proper boots, a good protective shield over his wings and an astronaut helmet on, the monarch butterfly embarks on a life-threatening journey, one believed to be a one-way ticket travel
❀ 10 ❛who we are, what we do❜ - 6.01k
Flowers don't have eyes, yeah, and neither does a pika glow even during the day. The flower is used to seeing only the sun shine during the day. The little pika walking by is unusual.
Cleopatra is the modern definition of the term "femme fatale"; she's known for ruling in ancient Egypt but also for her relationship with Ceaser and Mark Antony
❀ 12 ❛the butterfly, the cricket and the wing-man❜ - 4.49k
A butterfly, a cricket and a wing-man all have wings somewhat. The first does fly, the second mostly leaps and the last doesn't fly unless the first two do.
❀ 13 ❛the Titanic❜ - 7.31k
Between the night of the 14th and the 15th, in 1912, one of the biggest ships of its time sank, going against the expectations but did it? At the time, there was a little competition between countries so when it sank it wasn't so surprising: something so big with very few resources would have never made it across the ocean.
❀ 14 ❛from five to ten❜ - 11.44k
Brighten the mood. Increase the energy. Make a downturned flower rise high and flunt its beautiful petals for others to see.
❀ 15 ❛bold, red and underlined❜ - 14.70k
“You know? That party I wanted to host at mine? You’re so invited. In fact, you’re the first one on my guest list and I’ll underline your name in red as in ‘in great and urgent need of pussy’—”
❀ 16 ❛«it's Daphne»❜ - 11.30k
A monarch butterfly sees a lot of flowers in its short span of life but never has this one, nor its ancestors, seen a flower as pretty as the one ahead. The flower was there, living beautifully in space.
❀ 17 ❛hesperiidae❜ - 6.41k
Right when the sun faded away and the dark clouds took over, the little butterfly's wings fluttered less as it lost hope until something caught his eye, a gleam slicing through the gloom and focusing on a flower.
❀ 18❛opposites attract❜ - 5.59k
Winter and the Wind of the West come to destroy but nothing can touch a flower when it's under a shelter, something that will prevent it from dying in the cold or losing its beautiful petals.
❀ 19 ❛peek-a-boo (boo boo)❜ - 5.66k
Things have been too unusual for this butterfly. Wasn't it trying to embark on an impossible journey? To space? How did it end up in a shiny sea? it's floating and his pupils are swelling. The beauty is indeed out of this world
❀ 20 ❛lifejacket❜ - 6.97k
The wings grew with each flutter. There was a glowing dot on the ocean and it was slowly fading out into the darkness so the butterfly cradled it and protected the leur
❀ 21 ❛monarch and blue morpho butterflies❜ - 4.13k
The weather was chilly and slightly windy. Despite the discomfort it caused everyone, the flower stood out like a thumb as it danced and waved with the soft patterns of the breeze. The butterfly couldn't do anything other than admire with widened orbs
❀ 22 ❛rosy cheeks❜ - 3.91k
Did it see it? Did the flower see the butterfly? Because the butterfly has already seen the flower. Had already memorised every curve, every line, and every dot that brought the flower to life.
❀ 23 ❛caramel macchiato❜ - 4.23k
There was no way he could ever get lost: one look at those eyes and he'd see all the constellations, the map leading him to Venus
❀ 24 ❛butterflies, flowers... and butterflies❜ - 6.03k
«I mean, it's also an evergreen plant like the Laurel but it doesn't sound as special. Lauri does though.»
❀ 25 ❛bittersweet❜ - 4.10k
There were seven lanes, each welcoming an athlete, for a total of seven athletes. Yet, as the contestants got ready for the lace, some chose to acknowledge the presence of only a few athletes, the ones they were marking. Their true competition.
❀ 26 ❛open stage❜ - 9.78k
Floating and hovering around his spaceship, the butterfly moved closer to the round window giving to the dark glittered expanse. There was Venus and standing proudly in its infinite beauty was the flower.
❀ 27 ❛approach, round out, flare❜ - 8.08k
Poor Cinderella. She cried and cried. Then a small woman appeared in a cloud. It was Cinderella’s fairy godmother. “Biddidi, bobbidi, noo!” sang the fairy godmother as she waved her magic wand, but she gasped, hand coming to cover her mouth in bewilderment. Cinderella had turned into a tomato!
❀ 28 ❛a lighthouse❜ - 6.47k
Water flowed through the clothes, the hair strands, and around the body as the flower held onto a wide piece of wood. The water was chilling, the night was silent, and the ambience was dark, but right through the blackness slid the rotating rays of a lighthouse. Blinking to adapt to the brightness, the flower called for help.
❀ 29 ❛sus or sos?❜ - 7.12k
The rotating and flashing lighthouse lights shone upon a cricket, which floated barely a foot away from the flower. Yet, as the butterfly came to rescue, it didn’t see it, leaving the cricket trying to swim for its life, screaming and choking on water.
❀ 30 ❛a coup d'état❜ - 5.95k
Standing on a tower, two neurons patrolled the area, binoculars to their eyes. Suddenly, they sighted something. They squinted their eyes despite the instrument in their hands and tried to make sense of what they saw. "Hey, send in the alarm. Prepare the defensive barrier. Do something. Hurry up!" As this one darted away, the other remained still, binoculars back to its eyes. Confusion bubbled in its head. What had happened for the heart to be heading towards the body's headquarters? And what was that army of hormones behind it?
❀ 31 ❛the sun on the horizon❜ - 10.75k
The butterfly had finally found the flower. After travelling across space, it landed on Venus, where a singular ethereal natural being stood erect in its almighty beauty. After the coup d’etat, the heart realised that the situation was bigger than expected. The heat rose up to every part of the body. Butterflies increased and with that the flutters of their wings, which fanned the fire, expanding instead of quenching it. Infatuation at its peak.
❀ 32 ❛the lily family❜ - 7.09k
A new member of the Liliaceae.
“You like butterflies, and she’s named after a flower.”
❀ 33 ❛twinkle, twinkle little star!❜ - 12.75k
1905. Annus mirabilis. Three important elements: Einstein, the relativity of time, Planck, quantum mechanics, and Quantum entanglement.
❀ 34 ❛on the highway to Forever❜ - 11.76k
Livin' easy, lovin' free. No stop signs, speed limit. Hey, mumma, look at me.
I'm on the way to the promised land.
❀ 35 ❛collywobbles❜ - 11.57k
Collywobbles: queasiness, intense nervousness… or butterflies in the stomach.
❀ 36 ❛the Daphne odora❜ - 7.65k
A pure white bed. Snow. Then a bundle of grace. Pink petals gathered into a flower. Green leaves held the masterpiece, all in a pure white bed of snow.
❀ 37 ❛«Uno, nessuno, centomila» Love❜ - 18k
Love has many faces, many identities. It depends on the situation, the receiver and the giver. It’s similar to Pirandello’s theory of masks. Eros, Storge, Philia, but no Philautia. Romantic and passionate love, familial love, goodwill and platonic love, but no self-love… yet.
❀ 38 ❛the casus belli❜ - 21.43k
Goddess, sing the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, which brought countless woes to the Achaeans and sent the souls of many brave heroes to Hades, their bodies made into a feast for dogs and crows, all to carry out the unfathomable will of Zeus.
❀ 39 ❛panem❜ - 8.73k
The name "Panem" derives from the Latin phrase Panem et circenses, which translates into "bread and circuses". This phrase describes entertainment used to distract the public's attention from more important matters.
❀ 40 ❛et circenses❜ - 19.79k
The name "Panem" derives from the Latin phrase Panem et circenses, which translates into "bread and circuses". This phrase describes entertainment used to distract the public's attention from more important matters.
❀ 41 ❛the Lucia to his Renzo❜ - 16.26k
She was a humble girl whose simplicity was combined with a modest and reserved nature. He was a good-natured boy with strength of affection but a fiery temperament, prone to sudden outbursts and rebellions. She, on the other hand, carrying herself unobtrusively with a discreet yet calm beauty, had a cathartic effect on him, calming him and halting his vengeful thoughts.
❀ 42 ❛house of cards❜ - 16.73k
As time passes, it only breaks more. Right now, everything in front of my eyes except for you is pitch black, darkness for me. But as long as I’m with you in the end, I’m okay.
❀ 43 ❛like in 1989❜ - 19.9k
“I felt one ought not only hear about them but see them because you see the joy on people's faces and you see what freedom means to them; it makes you realise that you cannot stifle or suppress people's desire for liberty, and so I watched with the same joy as everyone else.” - Margaret Thatcher, 1989
❀ 44 ❛like in 1961❜ - 14.07k
"From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic, an iron curtain has descended across the Continent. Behind that line lie all the capitals of the ancient states of Central and Eastern Europe." - Winston Churchill, 1946
❀ 45 ❛like in 1939❜ - 15k
It was like a pact: don’t attack me, and I won’t attack you—no aggression. But it doesn’t mean I can’t attack someone else or that someone else can’t attack me. Are we clear? Or not?
❀ 46 ❛like in the 1920s❜ - 24.5k
It’s a very familiar feeling, the one that settles within you when a moment is feeling too good, the type that leaves a tingly feeling on your tongue, uncomfortable, irritating. It’s a reminder that everything will eventually come to an end. The same happens when you know that, to every good in the world, there is a bad counterpart.
❀ 47 ❛like in 1945❜ - 12.85k
At the fall of one system begins the rise of another, one that is yet to be deemed bad or good, just ‘better’ than the previous one, or so everyone believes. What matters is how long it’d take for anyone to tell if it is good, bad from the get-go or bad in the long run.
❀ 48 ❛a falling hyperbola❜ - 17.3k
When T is high, and V is low, P has to shoot up.
As the volume increases, the pressure rises—claustrophobic energy even.
❀ 49 ❛sympathy❜ - 5.8k
A leotard, tights and a romantic tutu, fluttering with every movement, spreading as the leg rose high, blooming like a lotus flower. Another leotard, tights, and a ballet tank top, stretching to follow every ridge of the body, every flinch of the muscle. They both wore ballet shoes, ribbons tied around the ankles, shanks dirty from long wear, and vamps stained with blood from swaying to a deadly dance.
❀ 50 ❛I love you so❜ - 17.7k
Burn it to the point you burn your hands, crossing the unknown boundaries and spread it out to the end. It's quite beautiful on a free day. As long as it burns, I can't stop my desire
❀ 51 ❛Toothless & Toothpaste❜ - 16.3k
The flower did see the butterfly. The flower always saw the butterfly. It stood tall and idle in the field of grass, spending its day waving in the wind, so how could it not see the butterfly? He was looking right at her: the butterfly was looking at the flower.
❀ 52 ❛the bermuda triangle❜ - 8.17k
Those weren't stars. Looked like it, but it wasn't the case. The distance, the safety gap, makes everything deformed, void of shape and definition, almost safe in a way. It disguises the mistakes, hides, blurs, and keeps them in the back of your mind. You can't see through my skull, but certainly through my eyes. But the gap has to close, and I don't want that.
❀ 53 ❛preoccupations❜ - 12.5k
A flower's place isn't in the ocean; a flower's place is in a garden amidst bees and butterflies. A star's place is in the sky, where it can burn till the end of time but never fall.
AMOR TAM PULCHER
⋆. 𐙚 ̊ Chp. 55: Swirls and polka dots - moodboard
❁pairing: taehyung x oc
❁tagline: She's a flower, and he's a butterfly. She's learning to fly, and he's trying to see what life is like when one feels grounded - stable.
❁genre/tropes: strangers to lovers, coming-of-age, romance, fluff, smut, angst, cross-posted on Wattpad and ao3
