jon, in damian's bed: morning… how’d ya sleep last night?
damian, knocking jon off: WHAT THE HELL?!
jon: oW—
damian: what were you doing in my bed?! you were supposed to sleep on the air mattress on the floor!
jon: i had a nightmare
damian: you had a nightmare? what are you, five years old?
jon: listen, i needed to feel comfortable and i was getting this weird power dynamic vibe from me sleeping on the floor and you sleeping up there-
damian, sarcastically: of course, how high and mighty i am up on my twin XL
jon: that’s not what i meant—
damian, still sarcastic: don’t talk back to me! i sleep a whole twelve and a half inches above the ground that you slept on
jon: listen, i’m not ashamed. i slept comfortably when i got up on your bed and i’m sure you did too
damian: tt, whatever—
jon: ya know what? i wanna know. how did you sleep last night?
damian: …that was the best i have slept in a while.
jon, gasping: the king slept comfortably with a peasant in his bed!
damian: i did not consent to this—
jon, dramatically: but my liege, our love is forbidden!
damian: okay, i’m going to go shower and wash all of the you off of me.
jon: oh, maybe together we could—
damian: NO.
jon: just to save water—
damian: no! you don’t even pay for the water!
jon: …good point.
The gala was in full swing at Wayne Manor, glittering with Gotham’s elite. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the soft strains of a classical quartet played in the background. Danny Fenton, in an ill-fitting tux borrowed from someone much taller, leaned against a column with a flute of something bubbly he wasn't entirely sure was non-alcoholic.
From his vantage point, he had the perfect view of his sister, Jazz, and—unfortunately—Dick Grayson trying, and failing, to flirt with her.
"You're into psychology? That's wild, I'm kind of a master of body language." Dick gave a dazzling grin, eyebrows bouncing like he was in a toothpaste commercial.
Jazz blinked at him, utterly unimpressed. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you read Freud for the articles?”
Danny winced from across the room. “Oof,” he muttered, sipping whatever this was. “She's not even pulling punches tonight.”
Beside him, Tim Drake appeared with a glass of water and a raised eyebrow. “How long’s this been going on?”
“Grayson’s been at it for fifteen minutes,” Danny said. “It's like watching a golden retriever try to seduce a cat. Painful, but kind of impressive in its optimism.”
Dick tried another move, casually flexing as he reached for a canapé. Jazz didn’t even blink.
Danny snorted. “Dude, give it up,” he called out as Dick stepped back for a breath. “She likes older guys.”
Dick turned and pouted. “I am older than her!”
Danny just pointed across the ballroom. “Not old enough.”
There, Jazz was zeroing in on Bruce Wayne himself—billionaire, philanthropist, and, as far as Jazz was concerned, “a prime specimen of rugged fatherhood.”
“She thinks Bruce Wayne is a total DILF,” Danny added, sipping again, eyes never leaving the trainwreck in motion.
Dick stared, mouth slightly open, watching as Jazz approached Bruce with the confidence of a woman who had studied Freud and Jung and decided to psychologically profile this man in real time.
“Oh my god,” Dick whispered. “She’s doing the eyebrow thing.”
“She’s doing the eyebrow thing,” Danny confirmed solemnly. “It’s over. May Bruce rest in peace.”
From across the room, Jazz offered Bruce a dazzling smile and said something that made the corner of his mouth twitch upward—the Wayne smirk, rare and powerful.
Tim blinked. “He’s smirking. She got the smirk. That’s—kind of terrifying.”
“She once convinced the FBI that our ghost dog was a federal asset,” Danny said. “This is light work for her.”
Meanwhile, Dick looked betrayed. “He’s like a thousand years older than her!”
Danny clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dick, buddy. You’re a gymnast. Bruce is a whole genre.”
Tim coughed, trying not to laugh. “Should we… do something?”
Danny shrugged. “Nah. Let her cook.”
And across the ballroom, Jazz leaned in slightly closer, her smile brilliant, and Bruce Wayne—Batman, scourge of Gotham’s underworld—looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed, flattered, or afraid.
Danny smirked. This gala was way more fun than he thought it’d be.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Country boy x Rich girl, Non-idol au, happy ending, second chance
WC: 13.8k
Tags: yearning, family manipulation, lies, guilt, regret, hidden identity, horrible flirting, Jun is stubborn, right person wrong time, Stable boy Jun, pining,
Summary: The first time you saw him you didn’t know his name, only that he didn’t look at you the way everyone else did.
The countryside air felt different: cleaner, lighter, like it didn’t matter who you were. No chauffeurs. No bodyguards hovering nearby. No people trailing behind you like shadows. For the first time in your life you felt normal. Not the child of the family that owned Pledis Industries. Not the face plastered across city billboards and magazine covers. Not someone people bowed to before they spoke. Just you.
A/N : Once again I would like to thank @dorereef for letting me participate in The Reef In Bloom collab. I struggles so much writing this and now it’s finally here. I hope you all enjoy.
A/N 2: Thank you to @thestraybunny for betaing and once again your reaction had me laughing.
The first time you saw him you didn’t know his name, only that he didn’t look at you the way everyone else did.
The countryside air felt different than the city: cleaner, lighter, like it didn’t matter who you were. No chauffeurs. No bodyguards hovering nearby. No one following behind you like shadows. For the first time in your life you felt normal. Not the child of the family that owned Pledis Industries. Not the face plastered across city billboards and magazine covers. Not someone people bowed to before they spoke. Just you.
You slowly exhale as you walk along the wooden fence, fingers brushing against the rough splintered surface. The fields stretched endlessly, which had a golden glow by the late afternoon sun. Horses lazily grazed, their tails hitting at flies, movements calm and unbothered.
Free.
You envied that.
“You’re going to get splinters if you keep doing that.” The voice startled you. You quickly turned and that's when you saw him. He stood a few feet away, one hand resting on the fence post, the other holding a rope. His clothes were simple and worn at the edges, dust clung to the fabric like it belonged there. There was a light smudge of dirt across his cheek, and his hair was slightly damp, like he’d been here for hours under the sun. But his eyes, they weren’t impressed. They weren’t curious. They weren’t calculating your worth like everyone else did. They were just…looking at you like you were normal.
“Sorry,” you said quickly, pulling your hand back. “I didn’t realize.”
“It's fine.” His voice was calm and kind. “Just didn’t think you looked like someone used to this kind of place.” Your heart stuttered. You forced a small laugh. “ What does that mean?” He shrugged, a faint smile tugging his lips. “You look like you don't belong here.” If only he knew. “I do,” you said a little too quickly. “I mean I’m staying nearby just for a while.”
Not a lie. Not exactly.
His eyes lingered on you longer than it should have, like he was trying to figure something out, but then he nodded. “Then you should stay away from Ling Chao,” he said, gesturing behind him. You followed his gaze. A tall horse stood a short distance away, its dark coat gleaming in the sunlight. It looked beautiful, powerful but there was something sharp in the way it moved, something restless.
“He bites.”
You blinked. “Oh.”
That made him let out a soft laugh.
“I’m serious,” he added, stepping past you and walking toward the horse with easy familiarity. “Ling Chao doesn’t like strangers.” You watched as he approached it slowly, steady, and unafraid. The horse shifted, ears flicking back for a moment, but when he reached out it stilled. Calmed. Like it trusted him. “See?” He murmured his voice quieter now, meant for the animal more than you. His hand moved gently along its neck. “Not so bad.”
Something tightens in your chest. “Do they all listen to you like that?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He glanced back in surprise. “Not all of them,” he said. “You don’t make them listen, you just need to…understand them.”
Understand.
The word lingered between you. You wondered what it would be like to be understood that easily. Not having to explain who you were, what you carried, and what people expected of you.
“What’s your name?” You softly ask. He hesitated. For a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Junhui. But everyone calls me Jun.” The name settled into you like it had always belonged there. “Yours?” You felt your throat tightened. For a moment, just for a moment you almost told him. Almost gave him the name that followed you everywhere. The one printed on contracts and headlines. Instead you smiled.
“It’s…Lemon.”
“What? That’s not your name.”
“It is because my mom was obsessed with them.”
Not a lie, but not the truth either. Jun nodded, accepting it without a question. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? To him, you were just a girl standing by a fence, afraid of splinters and curious about horses. Not someone who lived in a glass tower and spent hours in boardrooms. Not someone who belonged to a world that would never accept someone like him.
“Come here,” he suddenly stepped to the side. “Slowly.” You blinked. “What?”
“He won’t bite if I’m here,” Jun added, gesturing for you to approach. “Probably.”
“Probably?” You said, eyes widening.
That made him laugh, the sound warm in a way you weren’t used to. “Do you trust me?” He asked. The question hits harder than it should have. You didn’t trust anyone. Not fully. Not in a world where every smile had a motive and every conversation had a price. But standing here, in the sunlight with the smell of hay and earth in the air and a boy who looked at you like you were nothing special.
You wanted to. Slowly, you stepped forward. “Like this?” You asked. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Don’t be scared.” Easy for him to say. But as you reached out hesitantly your fingers brushed against Ling Chao’s coat. It didn’t bite. It didn’t pull away. It just stayed. Warm. Steady. Real. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jun watched you, something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
“See?” He murmured.
And for the first time in a while you smiled without thinking about it.
Neither of you noticed the car waiting down the road. Didn’t see the suited men watching from a distance, speaking in low, urgent voices. Didn’t hear the name they whispered like it carried weight.
Your real name.
The one Junhui would learn soon enough. The one that would change everything.
The sun hadn’t fully risen when you slipped out, the sky was painted in soft shades of blue and gold. The estate was quiet behind you, everyone who resided in your family’s countryside home were still asleep, staff, security, and expectations all momentarily out of reach.
Out here you could breathe, you could pretend.
The grass was damp beneath your shoes as you made your way toward the stables, the faint sound of movement already drifting through the air. He was there. Of course he was. Jun stood inside one of the stalls, sleeves rolled up, gently brushing down a white horse. His movements were slow, practiced like he did this a thousand times and still treated it with care.
You lingered at the entrance for a second just watching. There was something…grounding about him. No rush. No performance. No hidden agenda. Just quiet. “You’re staring again.” His voice startled you slightly. Jun didn’t even look up, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I wasn’t…” you started then stopped realizing how obvious it sounded. He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. You sighed. “Okay, maybe I was.” That earned you a small smile. “Couldn’t stay away?” He asked. Your heart fluttered at the way he said it light, teasing, but not entirely a joke.
“I like it here.” You said instead, stepping closer. “It’s peaceful.”
“That’s one way to describe it,” he replied. “Most people call it boring.”
“Most people don’t know what they are talking about.”
Jun huffed softly, turning back to the horse. “Careful,” he said. “You’re starting to sound like you belong here.” The words hit deeper than he intended. You didn’t respond right away because you didn’t belong here, not really.
This was temporary. A pause in your life. A stolen moment before you were pulled back into a life you didn’t choose. But standing here, watching him, hearing the quiet rhythm of brushing and soft noises from the horse you wished you did.
“Can I help?” you asked. Jun paused. This time he fully turned to look at you, eyes scanning your outfit clean and simple, but a little too polished for this place. “Have you ever done this before?” He asked.
You hesitated. “No.”
“I figured.”
There was no judgement in his voice, just honesty. He studied you for another second, then stepped aside holding the brush out. “Fine. But don't blame me if you mess it up.” You took it carefully, fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. Warm. You ignored the way your stomach flipped. “Like this?” You asked, copying what you’d seen him do. “Slower,” he said, getting closer behind you.
Too close.
You could feel him now, the warmth of his presence, the faint scent of hay and sun and something distinctly him. “Not like you're scrubbing the floor,” he added, reaching around you to guide your hand. Your breath caught. His hand closed over yours gently, adjusting the grip, slowing your movement. “Gentle,” he murmured. “They don't like being rushed.”
Neither did you.
Time seemed to stretch, the world disappearing to the soft sound of the brush, the steady breathing of the horse, and the warmth of his hand over yours. You didn’t realize how still you were until he spoke again.
“You’re overthinking it.”
”I’m not.” you said quickly.
“You are.”
You turned your head slightly to catch his expression. There was a hint of a smile there. A knowing one. “Do you always get this serious over small things?” He asked. You almost laughed. If only he knew. “This isn't small,” you said quietly. “It matters if I do it right.” Jun’s expression shifted just a little. Something softer. “You don't have to be perfect at everything,” he said. The words landed heavier than he could ever imagine.
Because in your world you did. Or at least, you expected to be. The perfect daughter, the perfect image, with the ‘perfect’ future. Anything less wouldn’t be acceptable. “I know,” you said, though it came out weaker than intended. Jun didn’t push. Instead he let go of your hand, stepping back just enough to give you space. “See?” He said, “You're doing fine.” You looked down at the horse, at the steady rhythm you found.
You were.
And for once, it wasn’t because someone demanded it of you. It was because you wanted to. A smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks.” He nodded, casually leaning against the stall door. For a while neither of you spoke. And it wasn’t awkward. It was…easy.
“You don’t talk much about yourself.” His voice broke the silence. You paused mid brush. “What do you mean?” Jun shrugged. “I’ve told you about this place. The horses. My work.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you? You don’t really say anything.” You gripped the brush tightly.
“There’s not much to tell,” you said.
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
He looked at you again, that same thoughtful look from yesterday returning. “You’re not just someone staying nearby,” he said. Your chest tightened. “I can tell.” You started to panic slightly. “Why does it matter?” You asked, a little defensive. Jun didn’t react to your tone. “I want to know a little bit about the person I’m talking to,” he simply said. And there it is. The problem. He thought he was getting to know you. But the version of you standing there wasn’t the whole truth. Not even close. “I’m just…me.” You quietly said. Jun held your gaze.
For a long moment neither of you looked away. Then slowly nodded. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” Relief washed over you, but it didn’t feel good. Because for the first time you realized something unsettling. You didn’t want him to just take your word for it. You wanted him to actually know you. All of you. And still look at you the same way.
From the outside, near the edge of the property a man lowered his binoculars. “She’s here again, " he said into the phone. He paused then quietly “…with him.” On the other end the response was immediate. Cold. Decisive. “Don’t interfere yet.” The man glanced back toward the stables, where your laughter was soft, rare, and real drifting into the air. “Just watch.”
Inside, you handed the brush back to Jun. “Am I hired yet?” You tease lightly. He scoffed. “You’re a long way from that.”
“Wow. Tough critic.”
”Someone has to be.”
You smiled. And for a moment, just for a moment everything felt simple. Like maybe, somehow this could last. It couldn’t and neither of you knew that.
Two weeks had passed. You didn’t hesitate. “You’re late.” Jun didn’t even look at you as you approached, his attention focused on correcting the saddle. You frowned. “I am not late.” He glanced up, unimpressed.
“The sun's already up.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m late.”
”It does here.”
You crossed your arms. “You didn’t give me a time.”
“That doesn’t mean there isn’t one.” You stared at him for a second and then huffed.
“You’re impossible.”
”And yet you’re still here.” He shot back easily. You had no response to that which annoyingly made him right. ”What are you doing?” You asked, stepping closer to the horse he was preparing. “Getting Ling Chao ready.”
“For?”
Jun paused, then looked at you, really looked at you this time, like he was deciding something. “Have you ever ridden before?” Your silence answered for you. He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course you haven’t.”
“Hey” you started.
“Come here.”
You blinked. “That’s not very encouraging.”
“Do you want to learn or not?”
You hesitated. More than you probably should. “Yes.”
“This is a bad idea.” You muttered. Jun didn’t agree. He doesn’t agree either. He just stood beside you, one had steady on Ling Chao and the other held out. “Foot here,” he said, tapping the stirrup. You stared at it like it may betray you. “This thing looks taller than it did yesterday.”
“It didn’t grow overnight.”
“You don’t know that.” That earned you a quiet laugh.
“You’re overthinking again.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
You glared at him. He only raised an eyebrow, waiting.
Annoying.
With a deep breath, you placed your foot where he showed you, gripping awkwardly as you tried to pull yourself up. It didn’t go smoothly.
“Wait…wait …” You lost balance and tipped but before you could panic a hand caught your waist. Firm. Steady. “Relax,” Jun said, his voice closer now. “You’re fighting it.”
“I’m not fighting it, I’m trying not to die.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You don’t know that.” Another quiet softer laugh this time. “I do.”
With his help, you managed to get on the horse. Barely. You sat stiffly, hands gripping the front of the saddle like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “This feels unsafe,” you immediately say. “You’re not even moving yet.”
“That’s the worst part.” Jun stepped back crossing his arms as he looked at you. “You trust me, right?” The question came too easily. Too casually. And yet it landed the same way as it had before. You swallowed. “I’m on the horse, aren’t I?” He smiled at that. Small. Real. “Good,” he said. “Because I’m letting go.”
“Wait what?”
The horse shifted slightly beneath you. You froze.
“Junhui.”
“You’re fine.”
“I’m not fine.”
“You are.”
Your grip tightened. Your heart pounded. And then slowly the horse began to move. Just a step. Then another. Careful. You sucked in a sharp breath. “I hate this.” You whispered.
“No you don’t”
“Yes I do.”
“You’re still here.”
You glanced down at him. He walked beside you one hand loosely near the reins, not fully touching, but close enough that you knew he would if you needed him. Like he trusted you but wouldn’t let you fall. “Okay” you admitted after a moment. “Maybe, I don’t hate it.”
“Told you.”
“Don’t get used to being right.”
“Too late.”
After a while, the fear faded, not fully but enough. Enough for you to notice how the world looked from up here. Higher. Wider. Free. A breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Junhui glanced up, catching it. “There it is.”
“What?”
“That look.“
You frowned slightly. “What look?”
“Like you forgot something.” You blinked. “What do you mean?” He shrugged, looking ahead again. “Like whatever you carry around all the time,” he said. “It’s gone for a second but then it always comes back.” Your chest ached because he was right. Up here with him you weren’t thinking about expectations, or your family or the version of yourself people expected. You were just here. “I wish it could stay like this,” you said quietly. The words came out before you could stop yourself. Jun did answer right away. When he did it was hushed. “Then stay.” Your breath caught while looking down at him again. “Jun.” He didn’t look at you this time.
“People leave all the time,” he added almost like it didn’t matter. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You didn’t know how to explain something you weren’t allowed to choose. “I…” you started. Tell him. Tell him the truth. “I don't know if I can.” That was the closest you got.
Jun nodded once like he expected that answer, “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Figured.” The air shifted just slightly but enough.
Later when he helped you down your foot slipped. You stumbled forward and he caught your fall. You looked into his beautiful brown eyes and neither of you moved. Your hands grabbed onto his shirt, steadying yourself. His hands on your waist neither letting go. Your breath hitched. His did too. You could feel it right there between you something changing. Something neither of you knew how to name.
“Careful.” He said but he wasn’t teasing this time. It was quieter, rougher. Your heart raced. “Sorry.” you whispered but didn’t move. Neither did he.
And for a moment the world felt dangerously small like it narrowed down just to this. Then, a distant sound broke through. A car. Too clean. Too out of place. Too familiar. You pulled back first. The moment ruined. Jun’s hand dropped. Your heart didn’t.
From the road, just beyond the fields a black car came into view and suddenly everything you’ve been avoiding was catching up to you. The car didn’t stop. Sleek, black and out of place against the dirt roads, and open fields, but there with a purpose. Your stomach dropped. No. No, no not yet. Jun followed your gaze, brows pulling together slightly. “You know them?” You didn’t answer. Because you did. Too well.
The doors to the car opened. A man stepped out, dressed sharp, his presence cutting through the quiet countryside like it shouldn’t be there. Because it didn’t. Because you didn’t. “Miss Y/N.” Your heart stopped. Jun’s head turned toward you slowly. Miss Y/N. You felt the shift. It was subtle but there. The beginning of soothing breaking. “I told you not to come here,” you said under your breath, panic now rising. “We don't have time for this,” the man replied, voice low but firm. “Your father’s waiting.”
Jun went completely still beside you. “Your father?” He repeated. You closed your eyes for a second. There it was. You quickly turned to him. “I can explain..” But the man spoke again, cutting you off. “The car is ready, we need to leave. Now.”
Now. Not later. Not soon. Now. There was a heaviness in your chest. You looked back at Jun and the look on his face made it worse. Confusion. Suspicion. Distance forming already. “I have to go,” your voice unsteady. “Go where?” He asked. “To the city.” The words felt heavy. Different. Jun’s gaze sharpened. “Why?” Because I live there. Because everything I didn’t tell you is waiting for me there. Because I lied. “I-” Your voice caught. “It’s complicated.”
“Then make it simple.” The tone of his made your heart hurt. You stepped closer to him, lowering your voice. “Jun please. Just listen to me.” He didn’t move nor did he step closer. Didn’t meet you halfway. But he didn’t walk away either. “I didn’t mean to lie to you,” you quickly said words tumbling over each other. “I just…I didn’t know how to tell you without….without ruining everything.” His jaw tightened.
“So you decided not to tell me at all.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
You didn’t say anything. Because how could you explain something that sounded so selfish when said aloud? “I just wanted…” You swallowed hard. “I wanted you to see me as me.” Jun let out a quiet humorless breath. “Did I?” That hurt more than anything else he could have said. “Jun nothing about this…about us was fake. I swear.” He looked at you, really looked at you. Like he was searching for something or trying to decide if it was worth it.
Behind you the man’s voice came again, sharper this time. “We’re leaving.” Your time was gone and panic surged through you. “No wait,” you said, turning back to Jun. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His expression didn’t change. But he didn’t stop you. You took a breath and stepped closer. “I don’t know when I’m coming back,” you admitted, your voice shaking now. “And I don't want to leave things like this.”
Silence stretched between you.
The wind picked up slightly, rustling through the fields, through the space between you that felt too wide. “I know I messed up,” you said softly. “I know I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning. But…what I feel…” your voice broke. Say it. Now or never. “What I feel isn’t a lie.” Jun’s gaze flickered just slightly. You took another step forward. Close enough that if he reached out he could touch you.
“Junhui I-”
“Miss Y/N.”
The interruption was sharp this time. Final. You flinched. Time snapped you back into place. The man had stopped just a few feet away now, his presence looming impatient watching. Waiting. Your throat tightened.
You looked back at Jun and something in his expression had closed off. Not completely but enough to make you hesitate. Enough to make the words feel heavier. Harder. “What?” He said quietly. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t encouraging. It was guarded. Like he was already preparing himself for what you were about to say your chest ached.
“I-” the words got stuck. Because suddenly it wasn’t just about how you felt. It was about everything you hadn't said. Everything you hid. Everything that made you you. And for the first time you were scared that if you said it now he wouldn’t believe you.
“I have to go,” you whispered instead. The moment slipped through your fingers. Gone. Jun didn’t stop you. Didn’t reach for you. Didn’t say your name. He just stood there watching. You took a step back then another, each one heavier than the last.
Right before you turned away, you forced yourself to look at him one more time. The way sunlight hit his face. The way his expression stayed unreadable even now. The way he didn’t come after you. “I’ll come back,” you said even though you didn’t know if it was true. His jaw tightened slightly. But he didn’t respond.
The car door closed behind you with a quiet final sound. And just like that the world you had here disappeared. As the car pulled away you turned, pressing your hand lightly against the window. Jun was still there standing where you left him. Getting smaller, until he was gone.
Back in the empty field Jun exhaled slowly, his hands curled at his sides. Miss Y/N. The words echoed in his mind over and over. He looked down at the ground, where you had been standing at the faint imprint of your footsteps in the dirt. “Who are you?” He muttered under his breath. And somewhere between the countryside and the city you realized the truth too late. You didn’t just leave without telling him who you were. You left without telling Junhui you loved him.
A few years later
The first thing you noticed was the horse.
Not him.
The city was loud, always loud. Cameras, voices, engines, and heels against the marble floors. It never stopped. It never lets you stop. But today was different. Today, everything was organized. Perfect. It was the grand opening of your family’s newest equestrian facility just outside the city. It was a blend of polished glass and expansive land. Wealth disguised as elegance.
Your world is now your prison.
“You’ll be meeting the head trainer in a moment,” Seungkwan said, standing beside you, flipping through his tablet. “He was highly recommended. Very selective about where he works.” You nodded barely listening. Your eyes were focused on something at the far end of the arena. A horse stood there, restless. Its movements are sharp and uncooperative with the other workers trying to guide it.
“It’s been like this all morning,” someone muttered nearby. “Hu Feng won’t listen to anyone.” You frowned slightly. Then you heard a voice low and steady. “Give me the reins.” Your heart stopped recognizing it. No. That’s not. It couldn’t be. You turned and there he was. Junhui.
For a moment, the world didn’t exist. Not the staff. Not the cameras. Not the weight of your name hanging in the air. Just him. But he wasn’t the same. He stood taller now, his shoulders broader, movements more controlled, less boy more of something solid. Grounded. There was a quiet confidence in the way he approached Hu Feng, like he belonged exactly where he was.
Like he always had.
The handlers stepped back immediately, almost relieved. Junhui didn’t rush and didn't force anything. He just reached out slowly, letting the horse breathe, letting it see him.
“Easy.” He murmured. The same voice. The same calmness. Your chest tightened. The horse shifted, tense at first then slowly gradually it stilled. Listened. Trusted. Just like before. Your vision blurred slightly because nothing about that moment felt like it belonged to the years that had passed. It felt like the countryside. Like sunlight and quiet mornings. Like him standing beside you saying “gentle.”
“Impressive, isn’t he?” You flinched slightly at the voice beside you. Seungkwan smiled. “That’s him. The new head trainer mentioned.” You barely heard him because Junhui had turned. And this time he saw you. That’s when everything changed.
The recognition was instant. Sharp. Unmistakable. His gaze locked onto yours and didn’t move. Your breath caught. You had imagined this moment before. A hundred times. A thousand. What you would say? How you would explain? How you would fix what you broke? But standing here now you had nothing. Not a single word.
Jun’s expression didn’t soften. Didn’t brighten. Didn’t show relief. If anything it hardened just slightly but enough. Enough for you to feel it.
“Miss,” Seungkwan said gently. “Shall I introduce you?” The word hit you like a blade. Miss. Again just like that day. Your hands clenched slightly at your sides. “No.” You said quietly. But it was too late Jun was already walking toward you.
Each step was measured. Controlled. Nothing like the boy who used to lean casually against a stall door, teasing you for being late. This version of him kept his distance even before he reached you.
He stopped a few feet away. Professional and detached like you were just another client. “Ma’am,” he said. Your heart shattered a little. Ma’am. Not your name. Not even the name you gave him. Just distance.
“Welcome to Heaven’s Cloud.” His voice was calm. Even. Like he hadn’t once stood in a field watching you leave without saying goodbye. Like you hadn’t carried the weight of that moment for years.
You forced yourself to speak. “Junhui…” His jaw tightened just for a second, but he didn’t respond to it, didn’t acknowledge it. “Is there something you’d like to discuss regarding the horses?” He asked instead. Formal. Cold. Your chest ached.
“No,” you softly said. “I mean yes but that’s not…” your voice faltered. This wasn’t how you imagined it. He wasn’t supposed to look at you like this. Like you meant nothing.
“I tried to find you.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. Jun’s expression flickered. Barely. But you saw it. “I went back,” you continued your voice quieter now. “You were gone.”
Silence.
People moved around you, voices in the background, but it all felt distant. Muffled. Like the world had narrowed again just like before. Junhui exhaled slowly. Then finally…finally he looked at you. Not through you.
“You left,” he said. It hit harder than anything else.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You had a voice.”
Your breath caught. “I tried…”
“No,” he cut in, not raising his voice but firm. “You didn’t.”
The truth stung because part of it was real. “I was going to tell you,” you said desperation creeping up. “I just needed…”
“More time?” He finished.
You fell silent. Because that’s exactly what you needed. What you thought you had. Jun let out a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly. “I waited,” he said. Your heart dropped. “I thought maybe you’d come back. Or at least send something.” His gaze hardened again. “Anything.”
Guilt crushed you.
“I-“
“I heard about you instead.” Your stomach twisted. Of course he did, you were everywhere. Your name. Your face. Your life public, unavoidable. A world he was never meant to be part of.
“Jun..” you stepped closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “What we had…it wasn’t fake.” Something in his expression cracked. Just for a second, gone almost immediately.
“Maybe it wasn’t,” he said quietly. Hope flickered. “But it wasn’t real either.” And just like that it was shattered. Silence fell between you. Heavy. Unfinished. Full of everything neither of you had said. Back then. Or now. But neither of you walked away, not this time.
No matter how much time passed some things never really left. And standing here in a world that finally belonged to you. You realized something painfully clear, you had found him again. But this time winning him back might be even harder than losing him.
You didn’t let him walk away, not again. “Jun wait.” He stopped but barely. Like every instinct told him to keep going but something still held him back. Slowly he turned back. Impatience flickered across his face now. “You shouldn’t be chasing after me like this.”
“Why?” You shot back. “Because it’s inconvenient? Or because it’s me?”
His jaw tightened. “Because it doesn't change anything.”
“It could.”
“It won’t.”
That should have stopped you, but it didn’t. “Then let me try,” you said, stepping closer. “Just… one chance. To explain. To fix it.” Jun let out a short breath, shaking his head like he already knew how this would end. “You can’t fix something you walked away from.”
“I didn’t walk away from you,” you said, your voice breaking. “I was pulled away from everything.”
“Same difference.”
“No, it’s not!” Your voice cut sharper than expected. A few people nearby glanced over. You didn’t care. “I came back,” you continued, quieter but more intense. “That should count for something.”
“It doesn’t.”
The words land cold. Immediate. But there was something under them, something strained. Like he was forcing himself to believe it. “Then why are you still talking to me?” You asked. That hit. Jun didn’t answer right away because he couldn’t. Because you were right.
Before he could respond, Seungkwan hurried over, slightly out of breath. “Miss we need you inside. The board of investors are ready.” Of course they were. Perfect timing. You didn’t look away from Jun.
“I’m not done here.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Seungkwan said gently. Jun gave a quiet humorless huff. “Seems like nothing’s changed.” Your chest tightened. “Give me until tonight,” you quickly said. “Please.” He looked at you like he wanted to say no.
Like he should say no.
“One conversation doesn’t fix years,” he said.
“I know.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because it’s all I have.” There was a long pause. “After closing,” he said carefully. “But that’s it.” Relief hit you so fast it almost hurt. “Okay.” Jun nodded once then walked away.
Later that night Heaven’s Cloud was quiet. Empty. You found him exactly where you expected. The stables. Some things never changed. “You’re late.” He said without looking at you. The words felt like déjà vu.
A faint, sad smile pulled at your lips. “You didn’t give me a time.”
“…Still using that?”
“Still works.”
He then turned trying to lean casually against the stall like nothing happened, but the second his shoulder touched the wooden frame he fell. He stood up quickly, pretending like nothing happened.
“Talk.” He said instantly. No softness. No teasing. He wanted you to just get it over with. You took a breath, this was it. “No excuses,” you said. “Just the truth.” Jun didn’t react but he listened.
“I didn’t tell you who I was because I hated it,” you admitted. “What my name means. What people expect from me. I just wanted one place where I wasn’t…that.” His gaze flickered slightly. “I didn’t think it would matter,” you continued. “Not at first. Then it did. And by the time I realized that I was already—”
“Lying,” he finished.
“…Yes.” You swallowed. The silence was heavy. “I was going to tell you that day,” you said quietly. “Before they came.” Jun looked away.
“That doesn’t change what happened.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
Your chest tightened. “Start over.”
That got his attention. He looked back at you this time. “You think it’s that simple?”
“No,” you said honestly. “I think it’s going to be really hard.” You paused.
“Good,” he muttered.
You stepped closer this time. “No more lies,” you said. “You can ask me anything.” Jun let out a quiet breath, like he wasn’t sure he wanted that.
“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” The question hit deeper than anything else. Because that one you didn’t have a clear answer for. “I tried,” you said. “My father made it very clear that if I came back it wouldn’t just affect me.”
Jun’s expression darkened. “…So you chose them.”
“No,” you said quickly. “I chose to survive it. And then came back when I can actually stand on my own.”
“And now.”
“Now I don’t have to ask for permission.” Then something shifted. Not completely but enough. Jun pushed off the stall, taking a step towards you. “Do you even understand what it felt like?” He asked quietly. “To realize everything I thought was real…wasn’t.”
“It was real.”
“For you maybe.”
“For you too.”
“Then why does it feel like I was the only one left behind?”
Your breath caught because he wasn’t wrong. “I thought about you every day,” you said. He scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say now. “
“Then don‘t believe me,” you said, voice steadying. “But don’t pretend you didn’t think about me too.” He was silent, you held his gaze and didn’t back down. That was your mistake because something in his expression changed it wasn’t cold anymore or distant. It was something sharper and more unnerving.
Jun stepped closer. Close enough that the space between you felt familiar again. “You always do this,” he said quietly. Your heart started racing.
“Do what?”
“Make it hard to walk away.”
You stopped breathing for a moment. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He took another step. Now you could feel it again that the same tension and the same pull years hadn’t erased it. If anything it made it worse.
“Jun…” you whispered more of a warning or maybe a plea. But you didn’t know. “You should go,” he said but he didn’t move nor did he step back to create distance. “Do you want me to?” You asked softly. That question was the line. He exhaled slowly like he was losing a fight with himself. “…No.” And that was all it took for the distance between you to disappear. Not rushed or careless but inevitable like something that had been waiting years to happen.
His hand caught your wrist first. It wasn't gentle but not rough either. It was grounding, real.
“Last chance,” he murmured.
“For what?”
“To walk away.”
You didn’t and this time neither did he.
The first week was dangerous not because of scandals and not because of your father. Not even the press waiting outside every public event. It was dangerous because falling back into Junhui felt easy. Too easy.
It started small, a conversation after work then another. Then coffee was left outside his office because you remembered he skipped breakfast when he was stressed. He never thanked you for it, but the cup always disappeared.
And somehow without either of you acknowledging it you became part of his routine again.
“You’re distracting the horses.”
You looked up from where you sat on the fence outside the training arena mildly offended. “That sounds fake.”
“It’s not.”
Jun adjusted the reins in the horse beside him focused and infuriatingly calm. “They keep looking at you instead of me.”
A smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe they just like me more.”
“They don’t know you.”
The words slipped out casually but the second they did the air changed. You both heard what he really meant. You looked away first. Jun exhaled quietly.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
He stayed silent.
“Maybe a little.”
At least he was honest now. The thing was Jun wasn’t cold all the time anymore. That was the problem. If he hated you completely, this would’ve been easier, but sometimes you caught glimpses of him. The old him. The one who looked at you differently when you weren’t paying attention. The one who remembered things you said years ago. The one who stilled moved instinctively closer whenever you were upset.
And every time it happened you fell harder.
“You’re staring again.”
You blinked. Jun leaned against the stable door, sleeved rolled up, dark hair slightly damp from work. Exactly the kind of sight that made your heart flutter deeply.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“You’re very confident for someone covered in dirt.”
He looked at himself. “Occupational hazard.”
“You could at least try to look less good doing it.”
The words escaped before you could stop them. Jun froze. Then he slowly lifted his eyebrows. “… Was that flirting?” Your face burned immediately. “No.”
“That sounded like flirting.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“That’s worse.”
You groaned, covering your face briefly with your hands. “Can we pretend that didn’t happen?”
“No,” he said instantly.
You were dying on the inside. When you looked back up, he was smiling. Actually smiling. Not polite or restrained. Real. And the sight of it hit you so hard it almost hurt because you had missed that smile for years.
“You know,” Jun said quietly, “You’re different now.”
Your expression softened. “Different good or different bad?” He tilted his head like he was still deciding.
“You talk more.”
“That’s your fault.”
“How?”
“You make me nervous.”
That surprised him. You could tell.
“Me?” He asked
“Yes, you.”
“You used to lie to me without blinking.”
“Ouch.”
“But now you’re nervous?” You looked at him for a moment before answering honestly. “Back then, I was scared you’d find out who I was.” You paused. “Now I’m scared you’ll decide you don’t want me anymore.” That wiped the amusement from his face immediately. The silence after felt heavy. Jun looked down briefly, jaw tightening. “I never said I didn’t want you.”
Your heart jumped.
“Jun…”
“But wanting you and trusting this?” He continued, gesturing faintly between the two of you, “Aren’t the same thing.” There it was the truth underneath everything. Not a lack of love. Fear.
You get off the fence slowly getting closer. Careful not to push too hard this time. “I know,” you said softly. “I’m trying to earn that back.” Jun watched you approach but didn’t move. It was progress, tiny fragile progress.
“You know what the worst part was?” He asked suddenly. Your chest tightened. “What?”
“I hated myself.” The confession hit you like a punch. Jun let out a quiet breath, his gaze drifting somewhere past you. “Every time I saw your face somewhere,” he admitted “I told myself I was over it.”
Billboards, magazines, and interviews. Your entire day had haunted him whether he wanted it to or not. “But I’d still look, he said quietly.
Your eyes stung unexpectedly. “Jun…”
“And then you walked back into my life like no time has passed at all.”
“I know it’s unfair.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “It is.”
For a second, neither of you spoke. Then softly, “I missed you too.” Jun’s gaze lifted back to yours. You could see it now the exhaustion in him, the restraint. How hard he was trying not to fall back into this completely.
Into you.
“You should stop looking at me like that,” he said quietly.
Your breath caught. “Like what?”
“Like I already forgiven you.”
The words hurt because they were true. Part of you hoped love would soften things faster that maybe if he saw how much you still cared it would erase the damage. But the hurt didn’t disappear because feelings survived.
“I don’t expect forgiveness,” you whispered. Jun held your gaze for a long moment. He slowly responded “Good.”
But he still reached for you. It was small, barely anything, just his fingers brushing against yours at first. Hesitating. Like he was giving himself one final chance to stop. You looked down at his hand then back at him. Neither of you pulled away.
Jun stepped closer. Close enough now that your heartbeat turned uneven again. “You’re trouble,” he murmured. A tiny laugh escaped you. “That’s a little unfair coming from you.”
“I was fine before you.”
“That sounds fake too.”
His mouth twitched slightly then his expression softened. Dangerously. “You really came back for me?” He asked quietly. Not accusing this time, not angry. Just…wanting the truth. Your chest ached. “There was never anyone else,” you admitted softly. “There was just you.” Something in him broke at that. Not loudly or dramatically, but enough. Enough that his hand tightened around yours. Enough that he finally leaned his forehead lightly against yours and closed his eyes. Like he was tired of fighting this. Tired of fighting you.
And for the first time in years, Jun let himself want you back openly. Even if it terrified him.
Junhui wanted to learn about your world so you invited him to the company gala. Jun hated galas that became obvious almost immediately. “You look like you want to kill someone.” Jun adjusted the collar of his suit jacket like it had personally offended him. “I might.” You laugh softly despite yourself.
“You look good.”
“I look trapped.”
“That too.”
His unimpressed stare only made your smile widen. The problem was he did look good. Dangerously good.
The tailored black suit sharpened everything about him: the broadness of his shoulders, the quiet confidence in the way he stood, the intensity in his gaze. And apparently you weren’t the only one noticing.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you're plotting something.” You glanced away innocently. “No reason.”
“That means there’s definitely a reason.”
“There may be a reason.“ He sighed. “I should be at the stables.”
The gala hall was filled with wealth. Crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, people dressed in designer clothes worth more than most people’s rent. Jun noticed all of it immediately. Not because he was impressed but because he looked uncomfortable. And you hated that.
The two of you entered together, conversations subtly shifted around the room. Eyes followed. Whispers started instantly. You were used to it, but Jun wasn’t.
“Are they always this obvious?” He muttered quietly beside you.
“Yes.”
“That seems exhausting.”
“It is.”
“…How do you live like this?”
You almost answered: I don’t. But instead you forced a smile. “Practice.” Jun looked at you longer than expected. Like he suddenly understood something he hadn’t before.
“Miss…!”
A group approached before you could say anything else. Businessmen with polished smiles and sharp eyes. Your world. One of them glanced toward Jun almost immediately. Curious, assessing, and judging. “And who is this?” The man asked. You opened your mouth, but Jun answered first. “Junhui.” No title. No explanation. Just his name. The man blinked, clearly expecting more. “And what do you do, Junhui?” There it was. The question.
Not: Who are you?
But: What are you worth?
You felt Jun tense beside you. “I work with horses,” he said evenly. There was a tiny pause, subtle but noticeable. The man smiled politely after a while. “How…interesting.” You saw it immediately that look people got when they decided someone didn’t belong. And suddenly you were seventeen again, terrified of this exact moment. Only this time you weren’t staying quiet.
“He’s the head trainer of our equestrian division,” you said smoothly. The man’s demeanor shifted instantly. Respectable title. Corporate attachment. Acceptable. It made you sick. Jun noticed it too. You could feel it.
“How impressive,” the man said quickly, now far more interested. Jun gave a short nod but said nothing. The conversation moved on, but the damage was already done.
The second the group left, Jun exhaled sharply. “There it is.” Your stomach twisted. “Jun…”
“That thing they do.”
”What thing?”
His eyes met yours. “Looking at people like they’re deciding if they deserve oxygen in the room.” You winced internally because he was right.
“They’re not all like that.”
“Most are.”
You couldn’t even argue. Before you could respond, another interruption came. This time it was worse. “Your father’s looking for you.” Your blood ran cold. Jun immediately noticed. The warmth from earlier disappeared from your expression so fast it physically hurt him to watch.
“…That bad?” He asked quietly. You gave a humorless laugh. “You have no idea.”
Your father stood near the center of the ballroom surrounded by executives and investors, commanding the room without effort. Power clung to him naturally. And the second his eyes landed on Jun everything sharpened.
You felt Jun straighten beside you instinctively. Not intimidated. Your father approached slowly, controlled, and dangerous in the quietest way possible. “Junhui,” he said smoothly. The fact he already knew his name made you feel uneasy. “Sir,” Jun replied calmly. Your father’s gaze swept over him once.
Measured.
Clinical.
Then towards you. “I’d like a word with my daughter.” Not a request. “I can stay,” Jun said immediately. Your father smiled faintly. “Can you?” The tension snapped tight instantly. You stepped in quickly before things escalated. “I’ll be fine.” Jun looked unconvinced. Honestly? You were too. Your father waited until Jun was out of hearing distance before speaking.
“You brought him here.”
You crossed your arms slightly. “Yes.”
“In front of the investors”
”He works for the company.”
Your father’s expression barely changed. “That’s not why he’s here.” he was silent then coldly said “You’re repeating old mistakes.” Your body instantly heated up with anger. “Loving someone isn’t a mistake.”
”Someone like him is.” Your jaw tightened to the point it hurt. “He’s more honest than anyone in this room.”
“Honesty doesn’t build empires.”
”No,” you snapped quietly. “It just destroys people for them.” That finally got a reaction. Small but real.
Across the ballroom, Jun watched everything. The tension, your expression, the way your father spoke to you. And for the first time he understood something he hadn’t fully grasped before. You hadn’t just hidden behind wealth years ago. You had been trapped inside it.
“You should leave her alone.” The voice beside Jun scared him slightly. An older woman stood nearby, elegant and observant. “What?” He asked. She glanced toward you across the room. “That girl will destroy herself trying to love people against her father’s wishes.” Jun’s expression darkened immediately. “You don’t know her.” The woman smiled sadly. “I’ve known her since she was born.” That hit harder than expected. “She’s stubborn,” the woman continued softly. “But eventually this family makes everyone choose.”
Jun’s jaw tightened. “And if she chooses wrong?” The woman looked at him carefully. “In this family,” she said quietly, “love is usually the wrong choice.”
Across the room, your eyes found Jun’s again and suddenly the night felt dangerous. Because this wasn’t a secret anymore. Not to your father. Not to society. Not to the world watching. And for the first time since reuniting Jun began to understand what loving you would cost.
The argument started before the gala ended. You should’ve expected that. The second the car door shut behind you, your father spoke. “You embarrassed me tonight.” You stared out the window, exhaustion already in your eyes. “Good.” The silence that followed was sharp. Intimidating. “You think this is rebellion?” He asked coldly. “Parading that boy around in front of investors?”
“That boy has more integrity than half the men in that room.”
“Integrity doesn't matter.”
”There’s the problem.” Your fathers jaw tightened.
“You’re emotional.”
“And you’re cruel.”
The car stopped abruptly outside your family estate. Neither of you moved immediately. Not angry. Certain. Like this conversation had only one outcome. You turned toward him. “No.” It was the first time in your life you had ever said that to him without fear. And he noticed it.
Your father studied you carefully. “This obsession again,” he murmured. “After all these years.”
”It’s not an obsession.”
“You barely know him.”
A bitter laugh escaped you. “You don’t know me at all.” That landed. Hard.
“You think he loves you?” Your father asked.
“I know he does.”
“He loves the fantasy of you.” Your expression hardened. “No! He loved me before he knew who I was.” That shut him up for half a second. Because that was the one thing your father could never understand. Jun had fallen for you when you had nothing to offer but yourself.
No money.
No status.
No advantage.
Just you.
“He will resent you eventually,” your father continued. “Men like him always do.”
“Men like him?”
“Yes,” he said in a cold tone. “People who spend their lives looking in through windows at worlds they’ll never belong to.” Your stomach twisted in anger.
“You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know exactly what he is.” The words snapped something in you. “No,” you replied immediately. “I’m finally choosing something for myself.”
“And when this ends?”
“It won’t.”
The certainty in your voice made his expression darken. Because suddenly this wasn’t a phase anymore. It wasn't a youthful rebellion. It was real.
“You sound exactly like your mother.” The words hit unexpectedly. You froze. Your father rarely spoke about her. Ever. “…What does that mean?” For the first time that night, something unreadable flickered across his face. “She believed love mattered more than power too.” You gasped. “And?” There was a long silence. “She learned power mattered more than love when she married me.”
Something in the way he said that made your stomach turn. Not angry. Not mocking. Almost…bitter. “You loved her,” you realized quietly. Your father’s expression immediately shut down again. “This conversation is over.”
“No,” you said sharply. “You don’t get to say things like that and walk away.”
“You’re naive.”
“And you’re miserable.” That stopped him cold. The air in the car turned suffocatingly still. “You think I built all of this by being soft?” Your father asked quietly. “No,” you whispered. “I think you built all of this because you were terrified of losing people.” His gaze snapped toward yours. Too fast. Too defensive. You saw it immediately. And suddenly you understood him. Not fully but enough. Enough to realize your father wasn’t heartless. He was someone who had convinced himself love was a weakness because losing it nearly destroyed him once.
“You don’t get to control my life because yours hurt,” you said quietly. Your father looked away first. That never happened before.
When you stepped out of the car, your hands were shaking. Not from fear but from adrenaline. From years of swallowed words finally spilling out.
“I fought with him.” You started to say, your chest heavy. Jun stood near the entrance gates, still in his suit, tie loosened slightly now. Waiting for you to continue. “What are you doing here?” He shrugged lightly. “You look upset.” That simple, that easy. Like, of course, he came after you.
You laughed softly despite yourself, the sound exhausted. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Probably not.” But he still stepped closer.
The moment he saw your expression, his changed immediately. “What did he say?” You hesitated. Jun’s jaw tightened. “That bad?”
“He wants me to leave you alone.” A humorless smile crossed Jun’s face. “Shocking.”
“He thinks this will ruin everything.” Jun was quiet for a second. Then softer “…Maybe he’s not completely wrong.” Your head snapped up. “Don’t.”
“I’m serious.”
“Wen Junhui”
“This is your family. Your company. Your entire future.”
“And?”
“And I don’t know if I fit into any of it.” There it was. The fear. The insecurity your father had been counting on. You stepped toward him. “You fit with me.” Jun looked away. “That’s not always enough.”
“It is for me.”
“But is it enough for the world you live in?” That question hurt because neither of you truly knew. You reach for his hand anyway and after a second he let you take it. “I’ve spent years regretting not fighting for you,” you whispered. “I’m not doing that again.” Jun looked at your intertwined hands quietly like he wanted to believe you. Like part of him already did. But another part was terrified too.
“He’s going to make this difficult,” he admitted.
“I know.”
“He’ll try to push me out.”
“I know.”
“And eventually you’re going to have to choose.” You swallowed hard because that was the truth looming over you both now. Not if. When.
Jun lifted his gaze back to yours slowly. And for the first time since reuniting. He looked genuinely afraid. Not of your father. Not of the pressure. Of you. Of what would happen if he trusted you completely again…and lost you a second time.
“Tell me now,” he said quietly. “Before this gets worse.” Your heart pounded. “If he forces you to choose someday…” he paused. Then softly said “…What would you choose?”
The first photo happened by accident.
The second one didn’t.
“You know this is a terrible idea.” Jun adjusted the cuff of his suit with visible irritation, eyes scanning the crowded ballroom entrance like he was preparing for battle. Honestly? He kind of was. You smiled faintly beside him. “You said that last time too.”
“And I was right last time.”
Tonight was worse. Much worse. Because this wasn’t just another company gala. This was a major charity event hosted directly by your family. Investors, press, executives, and socialites. Every important person in your world is packed into one glittering nightmare. And Jun was standing beside you anyway.
“You can still leave,” you said quietly. Jun looked at you immediately. Not offended. Just tired. “Do you still want me to go?” The question caught you off guard. Because underneath it was something deeper.
Not: Should I go?
But: Wil you choose me if I stay tonight?
Your chest tightened. “No.” The answer came instantly. Firm. Certain.
Jun stared at you for a second longer before exhaling quietly. “…Then I’m staying.” The second you entered the room, you noticed. Conversations slowed, heads turned, phones subtly lifted and whispers spread almost instantly. Jun felt all of it. You did too. But this time you didn’t let go of his hand.
That mattered more than you realized. Because Jun noticed and so did the cameras, and across the ballroom your father definitely noticed. “Breathe,” you whispered softly. Jun glanced down at you slightly. “I am breathing.”
“You look homicidal.”
“I’m considering it.” A laugh slipped out before you could stop it. It was wrong and terrible timing, but the sound softened something in him immediately.
“You really hate these things, huh?” You murmured. Jun looked around once at the polished wealth surrounding him. “I hate how they look at you.”
Your expression faltered slightly. “…What do you mean?”
“Like you belong to them.”
The words hit harder than expected. Before you could answer, a flash exploded nearby. Then another. And another. Paparazzi. Already. Jun stiffened instantly. Your grip tightened around his hand on instinct. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “It doesn’t seem okay.”
“Miss Y/L/N! Over here!”
“How long have you two been together?”
“Is this relationship confirmed?”
“Are the rumors true?”
The questions came fast.
Aggressive.
Relentless.
Jun’s expression darkened immediately. Not angry at you but at them. By the way your entire life has become public property. You should’ve let go of his hand then. For damage control. For headlines. For your father. Instead you stepped closer to Jun and every camera in the room caught it.
The flashes intensified immediately. Seungkwan was somewhere across the room moments away from cardiac arrest. Jun stared down at you slightly, genuinely surprised now. “You really don’t care anymore?” He asked quietly. You looked up at him then toward the cameras then back at him. “No.” You said softly. And for the first time Jun believed you.
Unfortunately your father did too. “Excuse me.” The cold voice cut through the crowd instantly. Your stomach dropped. Around you, conversations quieted almost immediately. Your father approached with the controlled calm of someone furious enough not to raise his voice. Which was always worse.
His gaze landed first on your intertwined hands. Then Jun. Then you. “May I speak with you.?” Not can. May. Polite enough to be a warning. Jun started to let go of your hand. You stop him. Your father noticed that too. And suddenly the tension in the room became suffocating.
“You’re causing a scene,” your father said quietly “No,” you replied evenly . “People reacting to me having a life is causing a scene.” His expression hardened.
“This is not the place.”
“You say that about every place.” A tiny flicker of anger crosses his face. Rare. “Junhui,” your father said suddenly, shifting his attention. “Perhaps you should give us a moment.” The dismissal in his tone was deliberate, almost calculated. Like Jun was temporary. Replaceable. Before Jun had the chance to respond you interrupted.
“No.” Immediate and sharp.
Your father looked back at you. “You would defy me publicly?” You felt Jun tense beside you instantly. Probably expecting you to back down. To soften. To choose survival.
Instead you lifted your chin slightly. “Yes.” Silence. Absolute silence. Even the surrounding conversations had stopped now. People were pretending not to watch. Pretending very badly. Your father lowered his voice. Dangerously calm. “You’re embarrassing this family.” You laughed softly in disbelief. “No,” you whispered. “I think I’m embarrassing you.”
Jun looked at you like he barely recognized what he was seeing. Because years ago, you would’ve folded under this pressure instantly. But not now. Not for this. Not for him. Your father took a slow breath. Then finally he said, “If you walk out of this event with him tonight…” he paused “don’t expect things to remain the same.” There it was the threat. Not hidden anymore. Direct.
Jun’s hand tightened around yours immediately. Not controlling. Protective. “Don’t,” he said quietly to you. Your eyes flickered toward him. His expression had changed completely. Not fear for himself. Fear for you.
“You don’t understand what he’ll do,” Jun murmured. “I do.”
“No,” he said softly. “I think you underestimate how ugly this can get.” Maybe. But you were tired. Tired of fear. Tired of hiding. Tired of letting everyone else decide your life.
You looked back at your father. Then slowly you stepped closer to Jun instead. Choosing a side.
Publicly.
Completely.
The cameras exploded and shouts instantly erupted. Questions. Chaos. Flashes blinding the room white. And somewhere in the middle of it all Jun stared at you in shock. Because this time you didn’t let him go.
By morning everything was ruined. Your phone started ringing at 5 AM. It didn’t stop after that. Messages. Calls. Notifications. Headlines multiplying faster than you could process them. You stared at the screen, stomach sinking further with every swipe.
Pledis Heiress in Secret Relationship with Employee
Mystery Man at Charity Gala Identified
From Stableboy to Socialite
Inside Scandal Shaking Pledis Industries
And the photos.
God, the photos of your hand in Jun’s. His arm around you as cameras closed in. They looked at him like the rest of the room didn’t exist. They had captured it all.
A new message appeared from Seungkwan.
Your father has called an emergency board meeting.
Your blood ran cold.
Meanwhile, Jun was getting destroyed online. “Hey.” Jun looked up from the stable office as Chan, one of the younger trainers, entered awkwardly with his phone in hand. The expression alone told him enough. “…Bad?” Jun asked flatly. “Depends how much you like being called a gold digger.” Jun’s jaw tightened.
He took the phone and instantly regretted it. Thousands of comments. Strangers tearing him apart like they know him personally.
He planned this from the beginning.
Men like him. Always look for rich women.
She’ll dump him in six months.
Embarrassing.
He doesn’t belong in her world.
That one stung because it echoed too closely to the thoughts he already fought against himself. “What idiots,” Chan muttered angrily. Jun handed the phone back quietly.
“…They’re not completely wrong.”
“Hyung.”
“I should get back to work.”
The conversation was over, but work didn’t save him either because now people stared, whispered, and watched him differently. Not Junhui the trainer but Junhui the scandal.
By noon paparazzi had found the stables. Cameras crowded the gates. Questions shouted nonstop.
“Junhui! Did you pursue her intentionally?”
“Are you living together?”
“Did her father try to pay you off?”
One reporter laughed while saying “What’s it like dating someone worth billions?” Jun’s expression darkened instantly. Inside the car across the street you watched everything that happened live. Horror set in your chest. “Go,” you told the driver immediately.
“But your father requested …”
“I said go.”
You barely waited for the car to stop before getting out. The second the reporters saw you chaos doubled. Flashes exploded and questions flew faster.
“Miss Y/L/N!”
“Are the rumors serious?”
“Is your family against the relationship?”
“Did you hide him for years?”
Hide him. The words made you sick.
Junhui saw you immediately. And instead of relief he looked upset. That hurt. “What are you doing here?” He asked the second you reached him.
“Helping you.”
“This is helping?”
The cameras kept flashing around you. You ignored them. “You shouldn’t be dealing with this alone.” Jun laughed once. Short and exhausted.
“Your world is insane.”
“I know.”
“No,” he snapped quietly. “I don’t think you do.” That stopped you cold. Before you could respond another car arrived. Black. Familiar. Your stomach dropped. “No…” your father stepped out. And suddenly the atmosphere shifted completely. Even the reporters went quieter because power had entered the scene.
Your father looked at the cameras, then at Jun, and finally at you. Disappointment settled across his face like ice. “You continue to ignore direct instructions.” Anger flared immediately.
“He’s being harassed!”
“He’s being exposed to consequences.”
Your expression hardened. “Because of me.”
“Yes.” The honesty stunned even Jun.
“You think I don’t know that?” You demanded.
“I think you don’t understand what damage looks like until it reaches you personally.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“No,” your father replied coldly. “I’m realistic.”
Then he turned toward Jun directly and the temperature dropped another ten degrees.
“This situation ends today.” Your pulse spiked. “What are you talking about?” Your father ignored you completely. Instead, he reached into his coat and handed Jun a folder. He frowned slightly before taking it. You saw the company logo and your blood ran cold.
“Effective immediately,” your father said calmly, “Your position within Heaven’s Cloud has been terminated.” Silence. Complete silence. Even the reporters looked stunned.
Your voice broke first. “You fired him?”
“He has become a liability.”
“He’s a person!”
“He became a public spectacle the second this relationship surfaced.” Rage hit so fast your vision blurred. “You did this on purpose.” Your father didn’t deny it. That was the worst part.
Slowly, Jun opened the folder. Reading the document, his face gave nothing away. But you know him now. You saw the humiliation, the anger, the hurt. “Junhui” he closed the folder quietly. Then looked at your father. Not emotional, not explosive, just calm. Which somehow felt worse. “Understood.”
No.
No,no no. This can’t be happening.
He wasn’t supposed to accept this. “What??” You turned toward him in disbelief. Jun avoided your eyes.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s NOT fine!” Your voice cracked loudly enough that several reporters focused harder. Jun noticed of course he did and somehow that made him retreat even more. “You should go home,” he said quietly. You stared at him.
“Are you serious right now?”
“They’re tearing you apart out here.”
“I don’t care!”
“I do.”
That silenced you. Jun finally looked at you then and the pain in his expression nearly shattered you. “I told you this would happen.” Your eyes burned.
“So what?” You whispered. “We just give up?”
“No.”
But he looked exhausted when he said it like he suddenly understood exactly how hard loving you was always going to be. Your father stepped forward slightly. “This ends now.” And for the first time Jun looked genuinely tempted to let it.
After being fired, something in Jun changed. Not suddenly, but not all at once, slowly enough to hurt. He stopped answering your calls immediately. When you stopped by his place, he was suddenly “busy.” When you asked if he wanted to see you, he always said “Maybe later.” Later never came.
At first, you told yourself he just needed space. Then a week passed. Then two. The distance between you started feeling terrifyingly familiar. “Junhui.” He looked up briefly from the duffel bag he was packing inside the small apartment above the stables. You froze slightly.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
Your stomach dropped immediately. “No you can’t?”
“There’s another training facility interested in hiring me.”
The room suddenly felt too small. “Where?”
“A few hours away.” Your chest hurt painfully. “You didn’t tell me.” Jun zipped the bag shut. “I’m telling you now.” Something snapped inside you. “That’s not the same thing.” His jaw tightened instantly. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start?” You repeated in disbelief. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks!”
“I’ve been trying to think.”
“No,” you shot back. “You’ve been running away.” You saw it in his expression. Jun exhaled sharply, looking away.
“You don’t understand what this feels like.”
“Then tell me!” His laugh was bitter this time. “Everywhere I go now, people know me as your boyfriend.” The words hurt because he said them like it stripped him of himself completely.
“They fired you because of me,” you whispered.
“And you think that doesn’t matter?”
“I’m trying to fix it!”
“You can’t fix this!”
The sudden sharpness in his voice stunned both of you. Silence crashed between you afterward. Jun dragged a hand through his hair roughly. “I had a life before all this,” he said quieter now. “I knew who I was.”
Your eyes stung. “And now?”
“Now I don’t know if people look at me and see me anymore.” The confession cracked something in your chest. Because underneath the anger he sounded lost.
You stepped closer carefully.
“Jun please…”
“No” he shook his head. “You don’t get to look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you can save this.” Your throat tightened painfully. “I love you.” The words came out desperate. Raw. Real. Jun closed his eyes briefly like hearing it hurt more than helped. “That’s the problem.”
You stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I love you too much to keep destroying your life.” Anger flared through the heartbreak.
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“And you don’t get to pretend this hasn’t ruined everything!” Your breath caught sharply. “Ruined?” You repeated quietly. Jun looked away. It was too late. The damage was done.
“So loving me ruined your life?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s exactly what you said!” Your voice broke. And somehow that made the fight worse because now both of you were hurting too much to stop.
“You think this has been easy for me?” You demanded. “I lost my family over this!”
“You still HAVE your family!”
That shout echoed through the room. Silence followed it was heavy and ugly. Jun looked horrified the second the words left his mouth. But you, you just stood there like he’d slapped you. Because suddenly you understood no matter how much he loved you, part of him still believed there was an invisible line between your worlds.
One you could cross but he never truly could.
“You think I chose any of this?” Your voice shook violently now. “You think I wanted this life?’
“No.” He admitted. “But it's still yours.” The truth of it hurt worse than anger because he was right. No matter how hard you fought against it, you would always belong to that world in some way and Jun would always feel outside of it.
Tears burn your eyes now. “I’m trying,” you whispered. Jun’s expression cracked. “I know.”
“Then why are you pushing me away?” Because he didn’t know how to survive loving you anymore. Every time he looked at you, he wanted a future he didn’t believe he could have. Losing you once nearly destroyed him and somehow having you back felt even scarier.
“I can’t breathe in your world,” he quietly said. That broke you completely. You stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded slowly. Too calmly. Which scared him. “…Okay.” Jun frowned slightly. “Okay?”
“You want space?” Your voice was dangerously quiet now. “Fine.”
“That’s not…”
“No,” you interrupted softly. “I get it now.” Your chest hurt so badly it felt hard to stand. “But don’t stand there and tell me this is for me.” Jun went still. “Because you’re not leaving to protect me,” you whispered. “You’re leaving because you’re scared.” That landed exactly where intended.
His expression hardened instantly. “You think this is easy for me?”
“No,” you said, tears finally falling now. “I think you’d rather lose me first than risk me leaving again.” There was complete silence. Because you were right and he knew it.
Jun looked wrecked suddenly. Angry. Exhausted. Heartbroken. “All I’ve done is love you,” he said quietly. Your breath hitched. “Then why does it feel like you keep punishing me for it?” The question shattered whatever composure he had left.
For a second, he looked like he might reach for you. Like he might finally stop fighting. Instead, he stepped back and that hurt more than anything else that night. Your laugh came out shaky and devastated.
“Wow.”
Jun's chest tightened painfully. “Don’t”
“You know what's funny?” You whispered. “I spent years thinking if I could just get you back, everything would be okay.” Your eyes met his. “But loving each other was never the problem, was it?” No answer came because there wasn’t one.
You wiped your face quickly, trying to pull yourself together. “I can’t keep begging you to stay.” Jun looked like he wanted to say something. Anything. But he didn’t. And somehow that was the final blow.
You nodded once. Small. Broken. Then turned toward the door. “Y/N.” Your hand stopped on the handle. The way he said your name nearly made you turn around. But you couldn’t survive him changing his mind again. So without looking back you whispered “…I wish you had fought for me the way I fought for you.” Then you walk out. This time Jun didn’t follow.
Three months later, the engagement announcement hit every news outlet in the country.
Pledis Heiress Prepares to Announce Marriage with Business Partner
You stared at the headline from your office in complete silence. Across the room, your father calmly signed documents like he hadn’t just detonated your entire life.
“You leaked it,” you said quietly.
“I expedited the inevitable.”
“There is no engagement.”
“There will be.”
You laughed once. Cold. Disbelieving.
“You really think you can force me into this?”
“I think eventually you’ll grow tired of embarrassing yourself over a man who already walked away.” That one landed hard because it was cruel and it hurt.
Meanwhile, Jun saw the news alone on his phone, standing in a stable hours away from you. And for a full minute he couldn’t breathe. The article showed your photo beside another man from an influential family. Perfect smiles. Perfect future. Perfect lie. Jun stared at it until his vision blurred because suddenly every fear he ever has about your world came rushing back at once.
This is what people like you did. This was how stories like yours ended. Not with love but with arrangements, power and sacrifice. “You okay?” Jun blinked slowly as another trainer approached. He locked his phone immediately. “Yeah.”
Lie.
Terrible lie.
That night, he couldn’t sleep because no matter how many times he told himself to let you go, he still knew you. Something about the announcement felt wrong. Too clean. Too sudden. Too much like pressure.
Then his phone rang. It was an unknown number. He almost ignored it. “…Hello?” Silence greeted him first. “Jun.” Your voice is small and exhausted. Suddenly his heart was beating hard enough to hurt.
For a second neither of you spoke because it had been months. Months of silence. Months of missing each other. Months of pretending you could survive it. “I’m sorry” you whispered. Jun shut his eyes.
“Don’t.”
“No I am.” Your voice cracked slightly . “For all of it. For calling. For ruining your peace again.”
“You never ruined anything.” The answer came too fast. Too honest. And both of you heard it. A shaky breath escaped you. “They’re announcing it tomorrow.” Jun’s stomach dropped.
“So it’s true.”
“No.” Confusion flickered across his face. “What?”
“It’s not real.” Your voice sounded tired now. Hollow. “My father arranged the meeting, leaked the story, and now everyone’s acting like the decisions already made.” Jun’s body filled with anger. Cold and sharp.
“Then say no.” You let out a bitter laugh. “You think I haven’t?”
“Then fight harder.”
“I’m tired, Jun.” And that, that broke him. Because for the first time since meeting you, you sounded defeated. “You once asked what I would choose.” you whispered. Jun's chest tightened painfully.
“I chose you,” you paused. “You were just too scared to believe me.” Every word hit exactly where it hurt most. Because you were right again.
Jun sat down slowly on the edge of the stall behind him, dragging his hand over his face.
“Y/N…”
“I loved you enough to stand against everyone,” you said softly. “But I can't do it alone anymore.” The tears in your voice destroyed whatever distance he’d been trying to keep alive. “Tell me the truth,” you whispered. Jun’s grip on the phone tightened. “If I walk away tomorrow…” your voice shook, “will you let me?” The question hollowed him out instantly. Because he knew what you were really asking.
Not: Will you stop me?
But: Are we over for real this time?
Jun looked down at the floor quietly. At the life he tried to rebuild. At the distance he forced between you. At the fear that had controlled him for years.
Then finally he understood something. Losing you a second time wouldn’t protect him anymore. It would destroy him. He stood abruptly. “Where are you?” Your breath caught. “What?”
“Where are you?”
The next hour felt unreal. Jun drove through heavy rain and he could barely see the road.
Your father’s voice.
The headlines.
The pressure.
The fear.
None of it mattered anymore because for the first time loving you mattered more than surviving it.
By the time he reached the estate, reporters already crowed outside the gates. Of course they did. Tomorrow’s announcement has become a media frenzy. Jun stepped out anyway. Immediately flashes were everywhere.
“Junhui!”
“Are you here about the engagement?”
“Did she leave you?”
“Were you paid off?”
He ignored all of them.
Inside the estate, you stood frozen at the top of the staircase when the doors opened. Jun walked in soaked from the rain, breathing hard, eyes locked only on you. Suddenly, nothing else existed. Not the staff. Not the cameras outside. Not your father standing across the room.
Just him.
“Jun…” then he said the words you had waited years for him to hear. “I’m done running from this.” Your eyes immediately filled with tears. Your father stepped forward. “You have no right—”
“No,” Jun interrupted, voice steady despite everything. “You don’t get to decide her life because you’re afraid of love failing.” Silence slammed through the room. Your father froze because Jun had seen through him completely.
Jun looked back at you and now softer. “I was scared.” The honesty in his voice shattered you. “Scared you’d leave again. Scared I’d never fit into your world. Scared loving you would destroy both of us.” He stepped closer. “But losing you already did.” Your tears finally fell. “I don’t care about their world anymore,” Jun said quietly. “I care about you.”
Your chest hurt so hard you couldn’t breathe. Because this, this was all you ever wanted, not perfection, not status just him choosing you freely.
Jun stopped in front of you now. Close enough to touch. Close enough to finally stop pretending. “So if you’re asking me now…” his voice softened, “No.”
A shaky breath escaped you. “No?”
“I won’t let you walk away again.”
And then he finally reached for you. You hugged him immediately. Crying. Laughing. Holding onto him like letting go will kill you both. Jun wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face against your hair like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Like he thought you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
Across the room, your father watched silently. Not approving. Not forgiving. But for the first time not interfering either because he recognized the look on Jun’s face. He had worn it once too.
One year later. The headlines changed not completely but enough.
Pledis Heiress and Equestrian Director Open Youth Riding Foundation
Public Couple Appear Together After Year of Speculation
Controversial Romance Still Going Strong
The last one made Jun laugh every time he saw it. “Still going strong,” he repeated from the kitchen one morning, amused. “Sounds like we survived a natural disaster."
You looked up from the couch. “Didn’t we?”
“Fair point.”
Things hadn’t magically become easy. That was the truth. Your father was still difficult. The media was still intrusive. The business world is still judgmental. But none of it controlled you anymore because eventually something changed. You both stopped trying to earn permission to love each other.
Jun never fully became comfortable in your world, but he stopped feeling small inside it. And surprisingly your world slowly started changing around him too. Not because he tried to impress anyone. It was quite the opposite.
Jun remained stubbornly himself through all of it. Still quiet, grounded, and still more comfortable around horses than billionaires. And somehow that authenticity made people respect him anyway. Especially after Heaven’s Cloud began thriving under his leadership.
“You know they’re terrified of you now, right?" You teased one evening. Jun glanced up from the paperwork spread across the dining table. “Who?”
“The executives.” He looked genuinely confused. “Why?” You smiled. “Because you keep telling them the truth.”
“That’s how meetings work.” You laughed.
God, you loved him.
The countryside became your escape again eventually. Not as a secret this time. As your home. On weekends, the two of you disappeared there whenever possible. Back to open fields, quiet mornings, the little stable where everything first began. Only now you don't have to hide your name.
One warm evening, you found him leaning against the fence watching the horses graze beneath the setting sun. The sight made your heart ache a little. Not painfully anymore, just deeply.
“You’re staring again,” Jun said without turning. You smiled. “You always notice.”
“You’re not subtle.” You walk over slowly until you stood beside him. For a moment neither of you spoke. Just wind, golden light, and peace. Something you once thought you’d never have together. “You know,” you said softly, “if you told us back then we’d end up here…” Jun snorted lightly. “I would've thought we were insane.”
“We were insane.”
“A little.”
You looked over at him. At the man who once believed loving you would ruin him. At the man who stayed anyway. Jun caught you looking and his expression softened. Still your Jun. Always your Jun. “What?” He asked quietly. You smiled. “Nothing” he narrowed his eyes slightly. “That’s suspicious.”
“I’m just happy.” The honesty of it made him still for a second because after everything those words mattered. Jun stepped closer slowly. Close enough to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you gently against him. “Me too,” he admitted. Your chest warmed.
For a while, you simply stood there together watching the sunset across the fields. No cameras. No expectations. No one is pulling you apart.
Just the two of you.
Finally choosing each other without fear.
Then Jun broke the silence. “You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, “You were a terrible liar when we first met Lemon. I knew that name wasn’t real, I just played along.”
You gasped softly on fake offense. “Excuse me?”
“I knew something was weird immediately.”
“You did not.”
“You screamed when Liang Chao sneezed near you.”
”It was loud!”
“You also held a grooming brush like a weapon.” You started laughing. “That proves nothing.” Jun smiled fully now, that rare, beautiful smile you once thought you’d lost forever. “It proved you didn’t belong here.” Your laughter softened. “Maybe not,” you admitted quietly. Then you reached for his hand. “But I belonged with you.” Something emotional flickered across his face.
Even now, after everything those words still affected him. Jun lifted your joined hands slowly and pressed a kiss against your knuckles.
“I loved you from the beginning,” he confessed. Your heart melted.
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
A small smile pulled at his lips. “I think I would’ve found you in every lifetime.” Your eyes burned. “That’s unfairly romantic.”
“I’ve been holding that in for years.” You laughed through tears. “Idiot.”
“Your idiot.”
“Unfortunately.”
Jun grinned. Then kissed you before you could pretend not to smile back. And this time there was no goodbye waiting afterward.
The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.
“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”
“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”
“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.
They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.
“You still okay?”
“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”
She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”
“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”
“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”
“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”
“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”
“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”
“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”
“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”
“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”
“Wha — you do so!”
She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.
“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”
“And you deserved it,” she says primly.
He gapes. “I did not!”
“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”
She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!
“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.
Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”
“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”
“Literally no.”
Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.
“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”
Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.
“Hey, Will.”
He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.
“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”
Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”
He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.
She shrugs.
“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”
Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.
The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.
But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.
With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.
“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.
“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.
Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”
“You said.”
“It’s just busy, is all.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”
“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”
“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”
Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.
“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”
Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”
“Shoot.”
Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.
Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.
“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”
Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.
Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”
Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —
“Nico!”
The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.
Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.
“Nico! Hi!”
“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.
“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”
Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”
Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.
“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.
“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”
Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”
“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”
“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.
“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”
A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.
“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”
Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”
A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”
“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”
“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”
“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.
On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.
Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.
“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”
“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”
Will’s face is a similar shade.
“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”
Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.
“That better?” he asks softly.
Nico swallows. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”
“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.
Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”
With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.
“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”
“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.
Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.
“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”
Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.
“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”
Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”
Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.
“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”
“Your face!” Percy shrieks.
“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”
Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”
“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”
Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”
“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”
“Hey, I earned that.”
Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.
“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.
Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”
