Since both Beautiful Goodbye and UN Village has this particular word in it, may i present to you: Streetlight.
send me a one-word prompt for a tiny baekchen fic c:
Jongdae wakes up at half past midnight with a jolt. He expects it to be pitch dark, but it's not -- there's light filtering in through the gap under the door.
Maybe Jongdae's forgotten to turn the kitchen lights off. He slips out of bed to check, but when he opens the door to the main area of his tiny house, the lights in the kitchen are off.
It's not coming from inside, it's coming from outside the house.
Jongdae halts. No, it can't be. Maybe it's just a car that's come to a stop right outside of Jongdae's isolated house, located in the middle of nowhere on a never-ending road bordered by an endless expanse of dry grassland. Maybe it's a lost traveller with a flashlight.
A phantom hand clenches around Jongdae's heart, causing a dull ache to bloom and spread across his chest, down to the tips of his limbs. He can't feel his legs as he makes his way to the front door and pushes it open.
Jongdae's breath hitches, clogs his throat.
There, in front of him, is the lone streetlight that accompanies his house. The streetlight that hasn't lit up for the last eight years that Jongdae's lived here. The streetlight that, when Jongdae comes near and tries to feel the river of electricity coursing through it, can't. The streetlight that feels sparkless and dead, because the wires inside are frayed and broken and it's not supposed to work.
But it is, right now, right in front of him, lit up in a light too white to be that of the characteristic sickly, yellowish glow of a normal streetlight, too bright, too pure.
And under it, with a smile so sweet and beautiful and familiar, stands Baekhyun.
Jongdae breathes out. He digs the nail of his thumb into the pad of his forefinger, pressing hard, pressing harder. It hurts -- not a dream.
"Baekhyun?"
Baekhyun's smile widens, relieved and disbelieving and oh so sweet. "Jongdae."
Jongdae's moving before he knows it, and within seconds, he's standing a mere step away from Baekhyun. It's been eight years.
Jongdae wraps his arms around Baekhyun's shoulders as Baekhyun circles his arms around Jongdae's waist, bringing him close and closer still.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," says Baekhyun into the crook of Jongdae's neck, breathing out warm air into the skin there. His hair is white now, like the radiant, bright light he brings with him wherever he goes. "I left for Almaty when Jongin said he saw you there, but by the time I got there, you were gone."
Jongdae buries his fingers in Baekhyun's hair -- still so soft -- and his nose into Baekhyun's neck, and breathes in. "I'm sorry." He's missed this scent so much, been deprived for so long he was starting to learn to ignore the fact that he was starving, craving, for Baekhyun. "I'm sorry." He pulls away only far enough to kiss Baekhyun, press his mouth against Baekhyun's soft one. "I'm sorry."
Baekhyun sighs into Jongdae's mouth, nipping at his bottom lip until Jongdae is whining, whimpering for more. "And then I heard about some really unusual lightnings happening somewhere in Siberia. They said it was so frequent it rivalled the Catatumbo." Baekhyun's hands cradle Jongdae's face. Jongdae feels like he can finally breathe again. "And I knew you'd be here."
Jongdae kisses Baekhyun's cheeks, then his nose, his chin, the corners of his mouth. Hugs him tight again, whispers into his ears, "Thank you. Thank you."
Above them, the streetlight continues to shine, warm and clear and brilliant.
“Ever since the first time I laid eyes on you
I saw the truth
No questions just proof
They may talk, but I ain't hear a thing they said about you
Ever since the first time we laid
Everybody want details, but don't say nothin'
I won't say nothin' if you don't say nothin'
Cause this is between us
Yeah we gon' fight
But I'mma love you till it's alright
Ain't gon' find these answers outside
Boy we don't need nobody's advice
Give me a shoulder to cry on
And I'll be alright
I'll be the one you rely on
This love
Ain't none of your friends business
Ain't none of my friends business
It's ours, all ours, nobody else's”
“Business” by Teyana Taylor
____________
“Travel safely, see you soon,” you said to both ____ (Almaty Reader) and ____ (Arizona OG Reader), kissing each of their cheeks in a parting greeting.
“It was such a pleasure to see you again,” ____ (Arizona OG Reader) smiled elegantly as she reached to embrace you.
“Likewise,” you nodded to her as ____ (Almaty Reader) reached to embrace you as well.
“We probably want to organize a conference call within the next two weeks,” ____ (Berlin Reader) stated as she joined your parting circle, bristling at the chill of the wintry air that whipped around you.
The voices of your broader band were momentarily subdued by the gust of wind that had you all pulling your collars closed around your necks.
“Between-” you began eyeing ____ (Berlin Reader) questioningly.
“Well following our conversation yesterday probably just us ladies as a separate conference. A biweekly or even monthly check-in should suffice,” she said, pondering the subject before answering.
“Grand. Well we’ll talk later then,” you agreed as Baekhyun and Minseok approached.
“Ladies,” Minseok beamed at you all, missing ____’s (Berlin Reader) raised eyebrow.
“We’ll be off then. Bye everyone,” Jongin waved, ____’s (London Reader) hand in his as he turned to walk away. When you caught her eye again she raised her hand and demurely waved, her cheeks rosy when Jongin turned to tell her something as they continued into the airport.
Baekhyun came to your side, humbly taking your bag you’d set beside your feet as you said your goodbyes.
“I’ll get our boarding passes,” he said aloud in your direction, hurrying inside.
“Are you flying into Arizona still or-”
“I am going to spend a weekend with ____ (Almaty Reader), and then I’ll head back. MQ said he’ll meet you there before he goes out of town,” ____ (Arizona OG Reader) revealed which seemed to be a surprise to Chanyeol.
“Oh...I’ll see you then. Safe travels ladies,” he stepped back from ____ (Arizona OG Reader) who had only turned over her shoulder to address Chanyeol’s concern. You all nodded to him as he went past following Baekhyun who waited for him within the sliding doors.
You caught the look on his face as he watched you standing there before he knew that you were watching him, and quickly masked it with a pleasant smile before he too turned away.
____ (Almaty Reader) pulled ____ (Arizona OG Reader) along after Chanyeol left, hooking an arm through the crook of hers as they carried on conspiratorially.
“Can’t they do anything without us babysitting?” You caught them whispering before they walked out of earshot.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” a sudden voice asked just beside you where ____ (Berlin Reader) also stood.
____ (Edinburgh Reader) had stayed behind while Sehun had gone in earlier with Kyungsoo and ____ (Colorado Reader) as they checked in and gathered their boarding tickets.
Since had ____ (Barcelona Reader) gone ahead with Tao back home to Barcelona she was alone in front of you all now, and very obviously uneasy.
“Me? Yes of course,” ____ (Berlin Reader) turned to her, gesturing for her to follow into the black SUV bearing Minseok’s trademark crest.
“Thank you as always for your hospitality, Minseok. Until next time,” you said cheerily, reaching a gloved hand out to him which he took and held in both of his, the light in his eyes flashing.
“Certainly. I hope to see you and Baekhyun and Yun Hee soon. Have you decided on a theme for her birthday party this year? As soon as you know please let me know so that I can plan her gift.” You were already modestly refusing his kindness as soon as the words passed his lips but he shook his head at you.
“Baekhyun is my family. And now you are part of his family. And now that family has extended to Yun Hee. If there is anything I can do, it is to take care of my family,” his smile remained sincere as he held your gaze but you had a prickling suspicion that you were not the only one who had revealed what you both had been keeping private.
“Baekhyun and I are so grateful to you Minseok. I could never thank you enough for how much you have blessed our family,” you reached forward to hug him and he held you close.
“He does love you, and I know you know that. No matter what happens, I hope that the both of you can be happy,” he spoke in deliberate muted tones and as he released you, you turned to see Baekhyun holding up the boarding tickets.
Your eyes narrowed at the way you could tell that he was gauging the result of your conversation.
His smile was pleasant, but it was the way his eyes cautiously lingered on you.
You were fuming.
___________
“It’s good to be home, jagi,” he tried meekly, looking at you through the rear view mirror where you’d sat with Yun Hee. After arriving at the airport you parted with ____ (Marseille Reader) who was traveling alone since Junmyeon had left abruptly following your New Year's event.
“Take it easy,” she muttered after a kiss to your cheek where you sent her off in her taxi.
Though you composed your fury at Minseok’s classy but brash attempt to contain you, and remained cordial to Baekhyun, you were seething by the time you were in French air.
You allowed him to drive to your mother’s house where you picked up a sleepy Yun Hee. “We colored for hours today. She was so excited to see you both but tired herself out too early.”
You listened, trying to calm your breathing as Baekhyun moved past you to pick her up.
“Darling?” Your mother asked, her tone apprehensive but you swallowed back the grit between your teeth and said your goodbyes.
Alone now and closer to home, your fury was piping white hot.
Ticking.
“If you want, I could-”
“I’m going to put Yun Hee to bed and then I’m going to the office,” you said, opening your door and hurrying to Yun Hee’s side. You opened the car door carefully, unbuckling her car seat so that you could bring her upstairs, leaving your purse and luggage in the car.
Your staff greeted you as you approached, standing clear of you as you went down the hall.
You heard a clatter of bags and buckles drop to the floor the moment after you’d reached Yun Hee’s door.
She stirred in your arms as you shifted her so that you could open the door.
“Shh shh mon petit,” you whispered, kissing her brow as you hurried inside.
You could see that your mother had given her her bath, washed her hair and brushed it.
You laid her in her crib bed, pulling off her shoes and socks, gently removing her jacket, and sweatpants.
She stirred at the sound of her door opening but you continued your task.
“Going to the office already? Jagi, let’s rest now. You don’t have to go in-”
You turned to look at him, a tempered glare set in your eyes.
He stood dumbfounded, unmoving as you turned to finish tucking your daughter in.
“Sleep well my baby,” you kissed her again gesturing for Baekhyun to do the same.
His stupor melted before he did as you asked, “sleep well my baby,” in an uncharacteristic stricken tone.
You headed to your bedroom, stripping as soon as you hit the door.
In your private wing, you knew based on past trials, that no one could hear how loud you could be. You wondered now whether that muted structural design was purposeful, and mockingly laughed aloud at the thought.
“Why are you going in now jagi?” He asked, following you into the room and closing the door to your wing noiselessly.
“Can you move please? I need to shower,” you asked icily breezing past him as he let you go in.
“Jagi, please. Why are you going in now?” He asked again, the whine in his voice rising.
You knew that as his voice rose he was coming closer to his breaking point. And even with that thought in the back of your mind, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Baekhyun, can you give me a moment please? I want to shower quickly and head in. We’ve been gone for a couple days now and I don’t want to get behind again. We do need to pay bills. We can’t rely on Minseok for everything,” you sighed dismissively as you turned the knob to your shower, sighing again as the jets pulsed against your bare skin whisking away the grime of recycled stuffy air and sweat.
You heard him retreat from the bathroom and turned to see whether he left the door open, which he had.
You took your time to wash your hair and towel off before you began your hair care routine.
Usually Baekhyun volunteered to help you with this part. He thoroughly enjoyed every opportunity that he had to touch you and since you had moved in together he had been fascinated with touching your hair in its slick wet and thick dry state and feeling the difference in your curls.
But he remained in your bedroom, waiting futilely.
After blow drying your hair, and applying lotion to your body you marched into the bedroom, nude, to find clean underwear and a bra.
He watched you as you walked around him, his expression pained.
“Don’t stay there tonight, jagi,” he spoke in sotto voce.
You looked at him in the mirror above your drawer after pulling on a clean pair of underwear.
“Excuse me?” You asked, turning to look at him where he held his head down.
He took a steady breath before looking up at you.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his sniffles to a minimum.
You could hear his panic now. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold it back. And though some small part of you knew it was cruel, you laughed.
“How dare you tell Minseok to talk to me?! I mean that was just ridiculous. You’re going to speak to me through your friends now?” You challenged, seeing the panicked sweat beginning to break across his forehead. His eyes searched the floor as he thought of a response.
“Jagi he’s just...he’s my friend and I was worried and the guys were just-”
“They were just what Baekhyun? Who the fuck does he think he is telling me to mind and obey. We are engaged but that doesn’t mean-”
“He didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure he just-”
“Well tell me how he meant it then since I don’t know. What does he mean talking to me as if I’m supposed to do exactly as he says?! I don’t owe him anything but maybe you do since he paid for the roof over this house. In that case we owe Junmyeon too for taking care of us,” you snapped, throwing your hoop earrings down on top of the drawer before rising to find a fresh pair of jeans and top in your closet.
“That isn’t fair-”
“Oh that isn’t fair? Now we want to talk about what’s fair,” you snorted, pulling on your jeans and your tank top, snatching your Supreme hoodie from it’s hangar and your heeled boots from its rack.
You pulled a roll of socks from your drawer as you exited the walk in closet, hopping into them before sitting at the foot of your bed.
Baekhyun’s breathing was silent as he waited on the bed while you zipped up your boots, and hoodie.
“You have no right to tell me where to go and neither does he. If I need space Baekhyun then you should respect that,” you said, rising from where you sat to head towards the door.
Baekhyun rose quickly, shutting the door as you opened it, his hands trembling as he dropped them to his sides.
“Don’t go jagi. You shouldn’t drive like this,” he protested, daring to meet your glaring eyes with his reddened ones.
“There’s nothing wrong with me-”
“But there’s something wrong with us. Don’t leave. I don’t want to keep doing this. I don’t want to keep waiting-”
“Waiting for what? What are you waiting for? You could just say it Baekhyun. Say it,” you dared him, stepping back from the door with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Do you want to leave me, jagi?” He asked, stuttering through the sentence as a sob threatened to split his voice.
You stood unwavering, growing more and more exasperated with every sniffle you heard.
“Baekhyun I am going to scream if I can’t get out of this room-”
“Then scream at me. Just do it, jagi. But don’t leave me. Don’t go jagi please,” he begged you, coughing back sobs as you stared him down.
“Baekhyun I can’t do this with you right now. Let me go,” you asserted moving towards the door.
But he stepped forward, blocking the doorway, refusing to move out of your way.
“Jagi-”
“Baekhyun-”
“Don’t-”
“Let me go!” You screamed moving towards the door where he held it closed.
You pushed against him, hearing the door rattle as you struggled with each other.
“Stop it,” he begged you as you pushed away from him where he tried to hold you against his chest.
“Baekhyun let me go!” You cried out, but he held you there with your back against his chest, crying into your hair as you both slumped to the floor.
“Baekhyun...let me go…” your fury imploded as you screamed again, pushing at his arms that he held tight around your waist.
“No,” he protested.
“Let me go right now!” You screamed again, struggling to lift his arms from you.
“Baekhyun!” You screamed louder.
“Jagi stop, please stop. Stop,” he moaned plaintively, but you persisted.
“Baekhyun let me go! Let me go now! Right now!” You screamed hoarsely, struggling to turn in his arms to break his grasp.
He hiccuped, his grasp around your waist loosening for a second.
You took your chance, moving quickly to your feet.
But he was right on your heels, slamming the door closed just as you opened it.
“Baekhyun get away from me! Get away!” You rasped, turning to hit his chest, trying with all your might to push him back so you could get out of the door.
“No!” He choked out, as he grabbed your wrists.
“Just talk to me, jagi. Talk to me,” he pleaded, willing you to look up at him.
You were unaware of how heavily and erratically you were breathing, until you looked into his eyes and saw yourself reflected in his irises.
Your tamed hair was wild about your face, curls pasted with sweat against your forehead, your clean top and hoodie now sweat stained and disheveled.
You glowered at him, feeling a trembling sob rising up in him as he held you, waiting.
“Yes I want to leave you. I want space. I need to think. Baekhyun please let me go. Please,” you stated, closing your eyes.
And he released you immediately.
“I...I’m sorry jagi. I’m sorry…” he whimpered, taking a step back from you.
You heard him descend to the floor in a slump as deeper sobs and gasps for air passed through him.
You turned to the door, taking and turning the handle in your suddenly shaking hands, feeling your resolve weaken as the door opened.
“______ I...I’m sorry,” he sputtered again, coughing.
You turned to look at him where he was slumped over on the floor, his hand gripping his chest as he took successive gasping breaths.
“Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Talk about where we're goin'
Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts
Can't get what we want without knowin'
I've never felt like this before
I apologize if I'm movin' too far
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Figure out where we're goin'
Yeah, started off right
I can see it in your eyes
I can tell that you're wantin' more
What's been on your mind?
There's no reason we should hide
Tell me somethin' I ain't heard before
Oh, I've been dreamin' 'bout it
And it's you I'm on
So stop thinkin' 'bout it”
“Talk” by Khalid
________________
*Creak*
*THUNK*
*Knock Knock*
You looked up from your desk where you were jotting down notes from your previous appointment in your day planner to see the office mail clerk waiting just outside your door.
“Hi, are you _____?” He asked, breaking eye contact with you as he ruffled in his bag for the touchpad, gesturing to you with the stylus to sign, when you nodded yes.
He took a step inside your opened office door, reaching down to pick up the box and help it over the threshold before standing again to hand you the touchpad upon which you quickly signed your name. He bent again, after stowing the touchpad away in his satchel, to lift the wide set brown paper box up from the floor.
“Th-thank you,” you said, grunting slightly as you adjusted to the box’s weight as it transferred from his arms to yours.
He nodded, muttering a nonchalant “no problem” as he left, ambling down the hall the same way he had come to your office.
Please let this be it…
You glanced at the shipping label, and slowly smiled at the name you recognized.
“It’s here,” you exhaled, placing it on your desk gently.
Without bringing your eyes away from the name on the shipping label you reached for your drawer, quickly pulling it open to retrieve your scissors.
You carefully applied the blade to the packaging tape, taking care not to push down into the box for fear of scratching the contents within.
And as you peeled the packaging away, the brown paper box coming away cleanly as you easily sliced through it with your scissors, your heart swelled within your chest, tears blurring your vision.
“You’re here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking eye contact with the box for a brief moment to return to your open office door and close it.
Inside was the leather bound hard case now embroidered with three sets of initials, your late father’s being first, yours being second, and your son’s being the last.
You fingered the embroidered letters, tracing them with the pads of your forefingers in an infinite loop, closing your eyes as you recalled their faces, and their voices.
Taking a steadying breath you reached for the latch, and lifted the top of the case, and gasped at the sight of the slate gray and white typewriter you had been longing to see.
“Pop,” you whispered, amazed that the typewriter could have been restored to this extent. It looked just like the photograph you remembered from the catalogue.
“It’s impossible. It’s like it’s brand new again. Just like Pop kept it,” you felt a giggle rising as you touched each key, remembering the way he used to sit at his desk on weeknights and you’d sit beside him watching his fingers fly, the swirl of the floral scent of Yaupon holly tea and crisp, warm paper luring you closer and closer to the desk.
“Pop, it’s happening now. We’re doing it Pop,” you took another breath and exhaled sharply, feeling the strength go out of your legs as you descended abruptly into your office chair.
The waves of grief washed over you again, and since you had practiced and were prepared for their onslaught, you held on, counting down the seconds you would allow yourself this morning with your hands over your face.
The sobs subsided as you counted down closer and closer to 10 to 9 to 8 to 7 to 6 to 5 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1.
And then…
You let your hands fall to your lap where you brushed your open tear stained palms against your thighs and released an ever deeper exhale.
“Ok boys, let’s get to work,” you said, removing the envelope that had been carefully taped to the top of the box after wadding up the brown paper packaging and tossing it into your waste basket.
“May these items make their way to you safely and find you at peace. With these items now restored and delivered to you, may your journey to healing truly begin,” penned in elegant handwriting by someone who had chosen to remain anonymous. Though without a name written you knew already who had sent the package.
*Knock Knock*
“Yes?” You asked, approaching your office door again as the secretary, Margo, who had knocked entered, her heels scuffing the threshold of your door at her abrupt entry.
“Hi, just wanted to let you know that your 2:00pm is here. Should I send them down to the studio or were you starting in your office?” She asked, her eyes bright as she leaned in and waited for your response.
“If you don’t mind sending them in to my office here, I think we’ll start here today,” you said, coming from around your desk to approach your baby grand piano as you awaited your third client of the day, hearing the whoosh click as Margo ducked back into the hall.
To think back again on where you had been the past couple of years while standing in the freedom of the present was jarring every time you turned to see the photographs of your late son and father framed in black and white on your desk. From time to time as you worked with your clients you would look back at your desk, seeing their smiling faces encouraging you, and urging you forward. It was no different today as your newest client, Camila, entered, and the writing session immediately began.
Camila was newly signed to your company’s label, and as all the artists were who were signed, she was a promising singer-songwriter in the making. Your goal was to help her along in her songwriting process by providing advisement where needed until you created the lyrics she was looking for. A role you relished more and more as the days wore on as you met each successive project and challenge.
You spent an hour together, chatting in between tea brought in by Margo and listening through samples from your previous recording sessions, and at the close of the session with three songs drafted, promised and planned to meet within the following week to close out the project.
“Wow! That’s a gorgeous typewriter, is it a family relic?” Camila asked, not failing to note the initials on the leather case.
You beamed at her, showing her your father’s picture on your desk.
“It was his, my father’s. He was a writer as well. Poetry and short stories mostly. He taught English at my high school and a couple of Early Native American literature courses at the community college in my hometown,” she smiled at you, holding the frame in her hands carefully before placing it back in your hands for you to reposition on the desk beside the others.
“That’s awesome that you had writing in common,” she said and you nodded, replying, “yea, I really treasured that. He’s definitely been my inspiration.”
As you led her down the hall you heard the jingle of your office phone.
“Ah, I know the way to the lobby if you have to take that. Thank you so much as always for your encouragement. See you next week!” She called, waving as she went ahead and you nodded to her graciously before ducking back into your office.
You caught it on the last ring.
“______ with Aspire Publishing, how may I help you?”
“__!!! Hi it’s Ophelia!”
“Oh wow hey! How are you?! I just heard the news about your album. That’s so incredible!”
“Thank you so much. It couldn’t have happened without you. Seriously! And also, I wanted to invite you to this festival I’m headlining this weekend in the area. I’ll be performing a couple songs from the album and I would just be over the moon if you could come!”
“Of course! I’m there. Just let me know the details and everything. My weekend is pretty clear,” you said, shifting from holding the phone against your ear to tucking it in between your ear and shoulder as you looked for your desk planner to pen the event.
After gathering the details you texted your best friend Awinita who had already planned to come into town.
“Hey so what about a music festival this weekend? Would Tobias be down for that?” You quickly texted as you packed up your desk as Margo knocked again at your door to deliver lunch, a large quinoa salad, chili cheese fries and sweet fry bread from a local food truck.
As you set up your lunch tray on your small coffee table behind the loveseat where you and Camila had just completed the day’s session, you felt a buzz in your pocket where you were sure Awinita was replying.
After sanitizing your hands with your pocket hand sanitizer, you poured yourself a glass of water from your pitcher where it rested on the dining tray along the wall and brought it to your place setting.
“Yea I was just about to ask you about that festival because I saw Ophelia’s name on a flyer when I was scrolling through Eventbrite earlier! Let’s do it!! Also...Tobias had a friend in the area who we planned to link up with if that’s ok with you? Maybe he could meet us out there?”
“Sounds good to me. Are y’all still going to be here on Friday then?” You texted back.
“Yea girl. Riding out on Thursday night and we should be in on Friday morning,” she replied with a kiss emoji.
You laughed happily and went back to finishing your lunch.
_________
“Hi Mr. Stone, I just wanted to let you know that I received the package,” you said into your phone, your purse on your lap.
“Greetings Ms. ______, I’m pleased to hear that,” he responded in the gravelly bass you had grown accustomed to following that fateful phone call at the beginning of this new year.
You remembered again the letter that had arrived on Christmas in the previous year when you were still living with Awinita before she had started dating Tobias.
“Who is that from? How can someone send something on Christmas? I thought everything was basically stopped,” she wondered aloud as you two sat together and opened the letter that arrived by a man who did not appear to work for USPS nor any of the other mail carriers you were familiar with. He didn’t wait for you to respond once he placed the letter in your hands and simply turned sharply on his heel to duck into the black Audi he had arrived in.
After tearing open the envelope with the letter opener Awinita offered you, your slipped your fingers inside to pull out the lone cream cardstock on which was penned a short note upon which five smaller envelopes were carefully pinned to its back.
You recognized the handwriting immediately, feeling a mixture of apprehension and hope churning within your stomach as you began to read the words written there.
“Though this can never replace what you have lost, in the new year please call these numbers in the following order.
I wish you well in the new year,
Chanyeol”
Perplexed but still hoping, you opened each of the envelopes where he had written legal, counseling, and employment option 1, employment option 2, and employment option 3.
He offered you a legal advisor, if given your approval and who if given time, would potentially review your case and provide counsel in your impending trial set to begin within the new year.
He suggested that the legal advisor could also be counted on to supply you advice in maneuvering legal and financial matters outside of court proceedings.
He offered you counseling resources for grief to help with any trauma inflicted during the proceedings, and in any personal matters which he oddly left unspecified.
He also offered employment opportunities in the realm of writing as a lyricist for multiple publishing companies you had only dreamed of. “These are companies I would recommend but I am not familiar with more than two of them through professional contact. Whichever you choose, if you so choose, please let the legal advisor know. They have been instructed to provide my recommendations to assist in your application process. However, a recommendation is not a guarantee for employment. I wish you the best in your future interviews if you accept these offers.”
“Take the deal,” Awinita stated after looking over the details.
She was still looking at the employment opportunities while you were looking at the notes you had brought from your bedroom to review.
“Take the deal _______. What he’s offering we can’t afford on our own. We just can’t. And things don’t look good with this case. You deserve this saving grace. You can finally have a life ______. After all of this that happened...and he’s right. It’s no guarantee but the legal advisor sounds promising,” she looked at you as if she hoped you already planned to take the deal but you couldn’t help the rising fear.
It felt strange to look at this handwritten letter that held none of his voice or his warmth.
It was clinical, sterile but still...him?
“I did ask him for help,” you confessed aloud again looking at the letters with her, pushing your stack of notes to the side away from your view.
“And he’s offering you help now,” she emphasized the ‘now’ as if meaning to say ‘forget what was before and move forward now.’
You spent that Christmas and New Years holiday wondering if you should call him but thought better of that when you remembered again that encounter you’d had at Metaphysics Records, and the faces who stumbled in upon you broken and pleading upon his conference room floor. The way they had looked over your head at Chanyeol as if to spare you any embarrassment when he failed to answer your request, and you excused yourself out the door.
You wondered often how you had looked to them and to him. You wondered if that’s why, after weeks of silence, that he sent you these offers and didn’t follow up with a phone call to make sure that you received the message.
Had he meant to send it or was he advised to sent it?
Does it matter?
You need the help.
You can’t afford to hire the legal help you need to fight this.
You are grieving.
You are...lost.
You waited until the evening of the 2nd once alone again in jittery anxiety when Awinita had gone to visit her parents, and dialed the number Chanyeol had written in compacted script, and heard the voice you had come to find such solace and comfort in.
“Hello, I...my name is _____ and I am calling to speak with Mr. Stone about legal advice,” you heard your voice wavering as you held the phone to your ear, trying to keep your hands from trembling.
“Ah yes, Ms. ______. Thank you so much for calling. I am happy to be of assistance to you in your legal needs. If you could put me in touch with your current attorney so that I can discuss with him further what assistance I can provide, then I would also like to meet with you both in order to plan our approach. With your permission of course, Ms. _____,” his voice was calm as he spoke to you in unhurried tones, and all at once you felt thankful and reassured that things really could get better.
You did as he asked and within a week you assembled your legal team to discuss your counter defense to what the defense had alluded to. What anxiety you felt about entering the courtroom in opposition to your sister had dissipated as the promises made by your legal team were carried out in the manner of requesting that your sister agreed to a plea deal in exchange for a dismissal of certain grievous charges and commitment to receive necessary treatment in a secure and holistic mental health care facility.
“We recommend that this unfortunate encounter is settled quietly within the family. These are sisters who have been dealt a truly horrendous hand. We believe that in a moment of sincere distress due to the workload, and responsibilities shouldered considerably by both sisters and undoubtedly more so by the elder sister, caused the accusations heard during previous meetings to be made. My client does not hold any animosity towards her sister nor her dearly departed parents. My client remained within the family home and strived to contribute to the family home to the best of her ability. My client offered her assistance at any and every opportunity to her late mother, and worked together with her sister to also provide safe care for her late son. While the defendant is being penalized as appropriate for inflicting harm that resulted in the unfortunate death of my client’s late son, my client does not wish any ill will or disadvantageous situation to happen upon the defendant. Instead we would request, despite the degree of the crime, that mercy is granted upon the defendant who is a first time offender and that the defendant is evaluated by a licensed mental health clinician, and is able to consider long term mental health services within a safe, affirming environment.
In addition to these requests your honor we would like to move for a strict restraining order to be placed upon the other party identified in the serious allegations made by the defendant. While we would request mercy in the consideration of the familial relationship between my client and the defendant, we would alternatively request strict and harsh punishment to the other party who has repeatedly battered and aggravated my client. We can provide documentation in a later proceeding that will substantiate our request and prove that the other party is truly a danger to not only my client but to the defendant as well. The other party has brutally taken advantage of both of these young women under the premise of providing financial assistance and support of which they so sorely needed as their parents were struggling to return to healthy functioning. If so granted, we would request that the other party is strictly prevented from residing within the same state of which my client is a resident. We would request that the other party is not allowed to call, text, or communicate in any way through any alternate means, such as by way of a proxy, to deliver harmful, insidious violence or intimidation upon my client. We thank you for hearing our requests and recommendations at this time.”
And as you requested through your legal team the judge so granted. Within a month’s time you began counseling services with a licensed mental health counselor, and following that also sought out the employment opportunities with the listed publishing companies Chanyeol provided.
While all of the interviews went well, you decided to accept the offer from a company Chanyeol was not affiliated with and whose location was in Southern Arizona far from your childhood home.
Mr. Stone put you in touch with a realtor who quickly sold your home to an interested young family with infant children. In addition he also advised you on how to save the money you received from both the sale of your parent’s house, and your late mother’s life insurance policy.
The months spent moving in, training, and jump starting your client base blurred by with not a word from nor even a sudden appearance by Chanyeol and day by day as the winter warmed to spring you began to let go and make peace with his absence because of how much he had blessed you. Even the letters written in good faith to your sister all returned in a bundle unopened with a new searing red stamp of “return to sender.”
To be severed from these two people, one who had been in your life since your childhood and one who had changed your life forever, left you confused most days. Reconciliation not only seemed impossible but felt ludicrous to hope for.
Move on ________.
Move on.
“Really Mr. Stone, I couldn’t say thank you enough for everything you have done to help me. I’m really thankful that this could be restored,” you said to the legal advisor now.
“Absolutely. It was my absolute pleasure. All of the other items have also been restored and are now in storage as you requested. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with. Anytime day or night, know that you can call on me,” he insisted once again as he had since the day you first spoke.
Now you said goodbye to Mr. Stone, the man who had become somewhat of a surrogate uncle to you, and your week went on.
——————
“Hi I’m _______, and you must be Hugh?” You asked over the din in the dimly lit brewery’s lounge where the weekend r&b soul festival had begun.
Awinita and her boyfriend Tobias had arrived just as they planned, and had stayed with you from Friday night into this Sunday evening. After spending the weekend together enjoying the good weather hiking, you had ridden together and entered the Soul Festival to wait for the date Awinita had arranged for you.
“I mean...is it cool if we see it as a double date? He’s one of Tobias’ really good friends and he’s a really nice guy you know? I’ve told him a little about you and he’s excited to meet you this weekend, if you’re cool with that. If not we could always just meet up with him later of course and we three can go out,” she said as she helped you fix your hair Saturday night in preparation for Sunday evening.
Tobias, a mutual friend from high school who had grown into something more for Awinita after reuniting at your class reunion, had cooked you both dinner, a childhood favorite of pine nut catfish and corn salad.
“I’m open to that yea,” you agreed and the following night rode up to the venue with Awinita and Tobias to meet Hugh, who was tall with a loose-limbed athletic build. His dark ebony hair dusted his shoulders in full bodied waves, and his almond emerald green eyes were mesmerizing.
“Yea, it’s nice to meet you, ______,” he drawled, his accent catching you off guard, as his eyes took you in. You resisted the urge to look at Awinita though you were sure she was gauging your reaction from beside Tobias.
Together the four of you entered the venue, you beside Hugh with Awinita and Tobias following, and found an open table to sit at.
“I’ll get the first round,” Tobias immediately offered upon you all getting settled and you accepted, thanking him as Hugh turned to you.
“So are you excited to hear Ophelia tonight? Awinita told me that she was a client of yours,” he asked, reaching to comb his locks back from his eyes with his fingers as he waited for you to answer, a whiff of his heady scent escaping at the movement.
Mmm…
“Definitely. Actually I should probably see if I can let her know that I’m here,” you said, pulling on the strap of your satchel to untwist the purse from the opposite side of your waist so that you could reach for your cell.
“Wait isn’t that her?” Awinita asked suddenly, pointing towards the stage where you could clearly see her speaking with her band.
“Yea, I’ll just go say hi quickly and I’ll be right back. Excuse me for just a second,” you said to Hugh, who nodded as he watched you stand to leave, tucking away the conversation he wanted to have until you returned.
You moved through the crowd carefully, edging closer to the stage where they all stood on the floor in front of the mics until you finally reached Ophelia and her live band.
“Ophelia, hi,” you exclaimed seeing her turn just as you approached, her eyes full as saucers at your appearance.
“__!!! Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for coming! Guys this is ______, da best,” she winked at you as she brought you closer to the band for introductions. You waved at the members who would each play keyboard, synth, drum kit, saxophone, and bass assembled on the stage.
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Ophelia. Can’t wait to hear you,” you said, turning to hug her again after greeting the members.
“Of course, __! Couldn’t imagine doing this without you being here. Hope you enjoy the show!” She called as you turned to head back to your seat, waving at some of your fellow team that you spotted in the seats closer to the stage as you made your way through the crowded tables filled with patrons dining on tapas, beer, and cocktails.
Awinita waved you back over, an event flyer in her hand. Hugh offered you a drink as you came to sit beside him, which you took while looking at the flyer.
“So these are all the labels and companies represented here tonight by artists who are performing...isn't Metaphysics…,” Awinita looked up at you, her eyes wide with realization.
“Oh...I...well yea that’s that label but of course they would be here. That’s cool,” you said, finally sitting in your chair as the house lights came down, and Ophelia took the stage.
Just because his label is here does not mean he is here though, you shrugged turning to whisper something to Hugh when a face caught your eye.
Hugh, who had been intently bobbing along to the beat of Ophelia’s drummer, snapped to attention at your sudden leaning in towards him.
“Yea?” He asked huskily, his dark hair falling into his eyes again.
“Um, I...sorry. I forgot what I was going to say,” you blushed, fiddling with a non existent loose strand of hair as you turned away.
“Oh,” he whispered under his breath, leaning back in his chair.
But you turned again, sipping your glass of wine.
I was sure that I had seen…
The crowd around you erupted in applause at the close of Ophelia’s number, and she bowed neatly before the next number began.
“Ah, dry again,” Tobias sighed as he finished off his glass.
“You really like that one huh? We should buy some when we get back,” Awinita whispered against his cheek, his arm curled around her shoulders.
He nodded against her lips, a small smile on his lips at the intimate way she kissed his ear before turning her attention back to Ophelia.
“I’ve got the next round,” you announced, standing to make your way to the bar.
Hugh jumped at the announcement. It seemed like you had beat him to it.
“Sure? I could get this round this time. In fact I think this one was on me,” he insisted, standing to go ahead of you to the bar but you held up your hands to him shaking your head.
“No worries. I’ll be right back.”
His mouth opened and closed quickly as if he meant to try to gently convince you but seeing that you were already determined to go, he swallowed his statement and took his seat.
You milled again through the crowd to the bar off to the left side of the stage, nudging past patrons who stood swaying in small groups as they listened along.
“Two orange peels, and two glasses of rosado,” you told the bartender once you’d gotten her attention.
While waiting for your orders you fiddled with your purse, shaking off a slight shudder down your spine.
Why do I feel so nervous about this?
Hugh seems nice.
I’m just out of practice.
I’m just…
“__-____?” A raspy baritone voice called out to you.
You turned, wide eyed as you saw the face you knew you’d seen.
You knew those eyes anywhere.
“Chanyeol…” you breathed, suddenly parched at the gleam of his smile.
“I...I thought I saw you for just a moment in the crowd headed towards the stage but it’s really you,” he said when you said nothing more.
“I...yea. Yea I’m here to see my...Ophelia is one of the artists I’ve worked with,” you said nodding to where Ophelia waved to the crowd after closing the number.
“Really? She’s great. I like her vibe,” he said looking from you to her and then turning again to the bar where you both stood quiet for a moment.
“Yea she’s awesome. I’m so glad to have had the opportunity to work with her. I...I well I didn’t know when I could call just with everything happening. But I...thank you Chanyeol. I just. I was hoping I could tell you thank you at some point but-“
He shrugged, leaning against the bar which brought his posture lower and closer to you.
“I’m glad everything is ok. That you’re doing ok. How’s work? You loving it?” He asked and you nodded emphatically, refraining from spilling everything that you truly loved about your work. Would he really hear everything you had to say over the music, the conversation, the ambiance?
“So you’re here with Metaphysics? How is everything going? From the flyer it looks like you have a couple of artists performing tonight,” you said and smiled proudly at your mentioning of it.
“Yea things are going well there for me also,” he replied, the proud smile still on his lips as he watched you.
“That’s great. I’m so glad to hear that. I-”
“Ma’am your drinks,” the bartender interrupted, taping you lightly on the arm.
“Oh yes. Thank you,” you said turning back to the bar to finish out the transaction.
You looked back at Chanyeol who looked down at the tray she offered you, and thought you could see him counting the drinks.
“I’m here with Awinita and her boyfriend and a friend,” you blurted to which he raised his eyebrows.
“Oh? I wasn’t sure if you were here in a work capacity or…” he shrugged nonchalantly though his eyes roved from your face to something behind you. The open sun of his smile had dipped behind the shadow of an uncertain look.
You turned to see Hugh behind you, an unsuspecting smile on his face.
“Hey I thought you may need help carrying the drinks since you were taking awhile. You missed a lot of Ophelia’s set,” he chuckled in a friendly tone as he picked up the tray.
You turned again to see Chanyeol watching you, his expression closed.
And cold like that letter.
“I...Hugh this is Chanyeol. Chanyeol this is Hugh,” you didn’t understand why you didn’t introduce them both to one another as friends of yours. Hugh placed the tray back on the bar and reached a hand out to Chanyeol which Chanyeol received, his smile clipped.
“Hi I guess you also work for Aspire?” Hugh asked to which Chanyeol shook his head.
“No actually, I’m from Metaphysics. ______ and I know each other from another event,” Chanyeol stated simply, his eyes never leaving Hugh as he spoke to him.
Hugh nodded , unassuming and sweet.
“Well I’ll grab these then. You coming?” He asked you as he held the tray of drinks once more, his head tilted back towards the table where Awinita waited.
“Yea I…” you turned back to Chanyeol and saw the tempered heat in his eyes as he watched you.
“It was nice seeing you again. Enjoy the show,” you said, backing away to follow Hugh back to your table, noting that Chanyeol’s eyes did not leave yours until you turned away.
_______
“So what did you think of Hugh,” Awinita asked you on the phone as you drove back to your house.
You all had parted ways at the venue doors following the end of the festival performance. Hugh asked you out on a date for the following weekend to which you immediately said yes. Tobias and Awinita had waited until you parted ways and gotten safely into your cars before asking what you thought of the night’s events.
“He’s really sweet. Kind of a music nerd like me which is cool. He’s also beautiful. His hair, oh my god,” you gushed to Awinita who laughed aloud at your confessions.
“So you like him enough to see him for another date without all of us?” Tobias asked, and you heard a muffled “ouch” and figured that Awinita elbowed him.
“Yea I have to admit that I was a little nervous going out tonight. It’s just been awhile since I’ve been out. I just work each day and head home and don’t really go out to meet people. So tonight was just nice to meet people and-”
“Dance! Girl! I saw you and Hugh getting down out there. He thought he was moving but girl you were serving,” you both laughed aloud at that.
“Yea he was a lot of fun. I’m looking forward to seeing him again,” you said as you pulled up to your house and turned off the ignition.
“Sounds good hun. Have you made it home?” Awinita asked, a pop and crackling of a soda can sounding in the background.
“Yea I am. You guys drive safely. Are you really far out of the city now? If you want you can always stay the night and just drive out in the morning,” you offered but knew that Tobias had to be to work in the morning.
“Next time love. We’ll see you next time,” Awinita promised.
“Ok. Well I love you both! Please call me when you make it in!” You asked and heard them return the sentiment before you hung up, hopped out of your car and froze at the sight of a hooded figure on your doorstep.
The shadowed person turned at the sound of the slam of your car door.
You felt a feverish chill break over your body as you stood.
Go, you have to go, go now! Now! Now! Your body screamed.
As quickly as you could, you ripped open your car’s door and slammed it shut just as the shadowed person raced towards your car, slapping the trunk as you sped away.
You drove blindly for an hour before stopping at a nearby elementary school to call your legal advisor.
“There was someone at my house. I couldn’t see their face or hair or hear their voice but I think they were about 5’8” to 5’9”. Very athletic build. They were dressed all in black and wore a hood. I drove closer to the downtown area and am at this elementary school,” you informed him, turning over your shoulder to look at the name of the school so you could share your location with him.
“Ok. Please lock your door. Call the police. I will be there shortly,” he brusquely ended the call and you followed through on his instructions informing the police with as much information as you could possibly give them.
After calling you closed your eyes and pressed your phone to your chest, willing yourself to be calm and not to cry.
You can’t call Awinita to come back and stay with you.
Knowing Tobias they’re probably already there by now and he has to work in the morning.
Definitely cannot call Hugh.
Let the police clear the house first and then you can stay there tonight.
Don’t be afraid.
You repeated those instructions to yourself over and over and over until you heard a voice outside your car door.
“_____? ______ are you ok?”
“Chanyeol?” You gasped at his sudden appearance at your driver’s side window, breaking you of your calm concentration.
After opening the door, you stood in front of him, trembling.
“How-”
“I told Mr. Stone that if anything ever happened to you that he should call me immediately. I was just finishing up at the venue and he told me where you were. Are you ok?” He asked again, his eyes looking over you in a way that you felt a doctor would, checking for any signs of pain or trauma.
“I’m alright really. I got away and they weren’t following me. The police should be here shortly and then I’ll head back. Th-Thank you for coming,” you felt the quaking of your limbs increasing as the police arrived followed by Mr. Stone just as Chanyeol stepped closer. You were grateful for the distraction however.
They escorted you back to your home where you waited outside with Mr. Stone and Chanyeol both of whom stood before you as dragons, emitting gusts of hot air at the surrounding air as it blew around you.
After a fifteen minute walk through the police joined you where you waited on the opposite side of the street further down.
“Well ma’am we cannot find anyone source of entry or disturbance within the home. However what we can do is put a patrol on the house. Is there someone you can stay with-”
“Honestly I would prefer to stay at home. If it’s not too much to ask for a patrol for tonight, I would appreciate it,” you said dismissing the idea that you would go elsewhere.
No one if going to chase me away from here.
“Absolutely ma’am. If that’s your request. At the first sign of anything please give us a call,” he shook your hand as well as Mr. Stone and Chanyeol’s hands before walking back to his squad car parked in front of your house and radioed in the request.
Chanyeol’s familiar black Jeep was parked just behind his patrol car and Mr. Stone’s sleek BMW was parked behind your car on the opposite side of the street.
“I can stay with you if you want,” Mr. Stone offered and you took his hand gratefully in yours.
“I’ll be alright really. Thank you so much for coming. I’ll feel even more afraid if I stay somewhere else and then I won’t want to come back here. The patrol should be here any moment,” you said as Mr. Stone reached to hug you into his chest.
“If that is your will. As always I’m not too far away. I will call every hour until you retire to make sure that you are safe,” he departed with that statement after nodding to Chanyeol and climbed into his BMW.
“Are you sure you don’t want someone to stay with you? I’ll sit outside for a little while if that’s ok too,” Chanyeol asked, pulling his keys from his jeans pocket as he moved towards his Jeep.
But you lifted a shaking hand, regretting that you had done so when you saw the way Chanyeol looked at you trembling there before him.
“I’m ok,” you insisted turning to head inside the house, hearing Chanyeol behind you.
“I’ll stay right out here in the car ok? Lock the door,” he said as you entered through the front door.
He closed the door behind you and you locked the door, crossing the floor to sit on your couch.
The quaking of your knees increased the longer you sat in silence, watching the clock on your kitchen wall ticking away the hour you spent frozen in place.
You are safe.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s-
*RIIIIING*
“H-hello?” You scrambled to pick up your cell phone you dropped at its sudden brash ringing and heard Chanyeol ask, “you doing ok? You haven’t moved from the living room. None of the other lights in the house are on.”
You cupped the phone to your ear, swallowing audibly.
“______?”
You swallowed past another dry patch in your throat.
“______?”
“I think Mr. Stone is calling,” you said as your other line beeped and you clicked over to hear Mr. Stone asking how you were.
“If you feel comfortable allowing Mr. Park into your home to sit with you, that may help you to move throughout the home and ready yourself to retire. If not, I can come by to stay with you,” his tone was doting in a way that made your quivering turn into inaudible sniffling.
“I may ask him inside. I thought I could go into the house and just get on with the night but it’s hard. I don’t want to call you back after you just drove home. I will ask Chanyeol inside. Good night Mr. Stone,” you said ending the call once he had said goodbye.
You clicked back over, shakily bringing the phone back to your ear.
“_______?”
“Chanyeol, please come inside,” you said, hearing how small your voice was in the echo of your dimly lit stucco home.
“Can you make it to the door to unlock it?” He seemed to be genuinely concerned or maybe you hoped he was. There wasn’t a hint of teasing in his voice or malice.
“Yes,” you stood and made it to the door, feeling your knees knocking as you heard his car door slam outside.
He met you at the door as you opened it, his phone still to his ear as you also held yours there, frozen.
The patrol car slowly cruised by on the street just beyond your door and Chanyeol turned to wave to them as they continued on their way.
“You ok?” He asked as you stepped back to allow him in and he closed the door behind you both.
“Yes. I’m...if you could just. I am going to walk through and take a shower. Please make yourself comfortable,” you said gesturing shakily to the couch as you walked back to your bedroom.
You knew the police had already walked through and that there was no one else there but the surreal quiet of your home that had always been filled with music at this hour of night was solidifying you in a petrified state.
Even a brisk warm shower didn’t ease your nerves.
You returned to your bedroom to change, hearing Chanyeol in the kitchen on the phone with someone.
“Yes we’re still not sure how this happened. How in the hell does someone randomly show up in the middle of the night and just disappear? There’s a patrol yea.”
You wondered for a brief insane moment if he had had anything to do with it and felt guilty for second guessing him.
But how could Chanyeol have appeared so suddenly?
This whole time he had known where you were but just hours ago he had acted like he didn’t know anything…
Was he in regular contact with Mr. Stone about your whereabouts or did he really give you your space unless something bad happened to you?
You worried all the way out into the hall back to your kitchen where Chanyeol was seated on your living room sofa, the call finished, his head in his hands.
He looked up at the sound of your slippered feet trudging along the floor.
And the look in his eyes, the return of that bright sunny smile, stilled the tremors wracking your body.
“It’s ok, _______. We’ll figure this out,” he said, his tone steady as he looked at you.
Your cell phone that you had left on the coffee table chimed suddenly and Chanyeol reached for it, standing to bringing the phone to you.
You brought it to your ear as you asked, “hello?”
“Seems like you’re still breathing huh bitch?”
“Excuse me?” You asked, the feverish chill resurfacing.
“I am going to fucking kill you!” The garbled voice shouted and you pulled the phone from your ear, your stomach churning.
Chanyeol’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern at the way you shook but you brought the phone to your ear again.
“You cannot call me. You cannot be in touch with me,” you answered Liam, your ex boyfriend.
He chortled at the way you answered, as if he was glad that you knew exactly who it was without him identifying himself.
“Nah bitch how did you get that money?! Who the fuck are you fucking now?! Huh?! That was my fucking money bitch. You owe me! THAT WAS MINE!!” he continued to yell into the phone and as you lowered it Chanyeol reached for it but you snatched it from his grasp putting a finger to your lips.
You placed Liam on muted speaker phone, bringing his tirade to its climax.
Chanyeol frowned at the words he used and seemed furious with the idea that he had to remain quiet while he listened to Liam insult you over and over and over again. But you placed the phone down on the kitchen counter and walked around the counter to find the only house phone that you kept in the kitchen.
You dialed Mr. Stone and told him what you had rehearsed, “I have him on speaker phone. Are you available to record?”
You heard the snap of a button and Mr. Stone stonily replied, “we are recording. Once he finishes the call, allow him to hang up.”
You placed the phone on the counter alongside your cell where Liam continued to hurl obscenities at you and your family.
You stood looking at the phone now counting 10 minutes that had gone past of his ruthless anger.
You felt Chanyeol suddenly beside you and looked up to see him watching you as he had done all evening. His gaze was open and thoughtful as he suddenly asked, “do you want to sit down? I...can I get you anything?”
Hardly the questions you thought you would hear.
You sat on the sofa opposite him, exhausted.
He was quiet for a while as if he was waiting for you but you ignored the urge you had to say something.
It had been months since he had seen you and all this time that you spent hoping for reconciliation, thinking you had been parted with for your benefit, doing your best in attending your counseling services despite your inability to reasonably achieve closure without being able to see the two people left in your world who you needed closure from.
As you sat in silence, gradually descending into yourself, you felt in the midst of your exhaustion a stirring anger at the realization that he hadn’t been far from you at all. He had hidden himself from you in the familiarity of Mr. Stone who had seemed someone safe and removed. He had robbed you even of that.
“________…”
“Why do you keep messing with me, Chanyeol? Why are you here?” You heard yourself saying, despite the way your body had sunken into a fetal curve in the seat of your couch.
You saw him turn to look at you, his smile quivering in shock.
“I’m not here to mess with you ______. I’m here to-”
“Why are you here? Why did you help me?” You asked, seeing him turn so that he was facing you.
He watched you for a moment.
“Now you’re angry at me because I helped you when months ago you were asking me for help? I just wanted to make things right between us-”
“You don’t think that was weird? Acting like you didn’t know where I was and what my life has been like...have you known about Liam too? Have you been listening to these threats for months?” You heard the erratic trembling of your voice but at this moment, you would not stop yourself until you finished.
He took a breath to say something but you rose from the sofa.
“Is this some sick game to you? Do you make a habit of saving women so that you can swoop in and reap the benefits? I just...something about you and this whole thing isn’t right. I have no idea where you have been or how you have been. You just showed up. I have appreciated your help but I’m not going to sit here and have you judge me and my situation tonight. I am not going to entertain you anymore with my trauma,” you turned to walk towards the door to let him out and all at once he was standing to take your hand.
“________, wait. Please. I’m sorry...I-”
“I don’t want you here. I don’t want to do this again. Please leave me alone-”
Tears overcame you as you pulled yourself away from him.
“I’m tired of this. I’m so tired of this. All of you just leave me alone,” you hiccuped between unsteady breaths.
His expression was openly pained and sorry, his large brown eyes misting at the look of fear and indignation you gave him.
“_______. I’m sorry-” his voice cracked as you stepped away from him.
“I’ll go. If you want me to go I’ll go. I just wanted to make sure that you were ok. Really I promise you. I stayed away because I just...I’m not sure what I want. When we were trying to figure things out you weren’t ready and now...when I saw you tonight with that guy I thought-”
“But what does that have to do with anything? You didn’t ask me. You just assumed. You’ve been watching from the shadows like some creep and then suddenly when I’m doing better here you come to try again? Do you understand how fucking sick that is?” A scream was rising in you as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table and made to move past you.
“So you’re just going to walk away now? So that’s it? You have absolutely nothing to say?” You followed him to the door.
He stopped, his back tensing as he held the door knob in his hand.
You heard a “click crunch” of the handle as it turned in his hand.
You both took rasping inhales and exhales in turn, waiting the other out.
“I don’t want to fight-”
“Then what do you want?”
He turned to face you, his eyes red and his nostrils flared.
“I...I want you _____ but then…” he choked out his answer, his hands in fists at his sides.
“But then what? Why leave me in silence for months? Why did you help me? Why didn’t you just walk away?” You went on, though you knew it would have been better to be patient and wait for his response you didn’t give a damn at this point.
“I have been living in this false bubble for months. Months. My sister won’t speak to me. She won’t even let them update me about her progress. I moved away from my childhood home. I sold almost everything I could take pay back our debts. I lost...i lost my son-” you didn’t bite back the sobs that threatened to unsettle your grounded stance.
“I cannot do this anymore. This back and forth. I need the truth. I need peace. And if you’re not going to be part of that peace then just let me go Chanyeol. Please let me go-” you sobbed into your hands as you sunk to the floor.
You weren’t expecting him to catch you.
You hoped he would walk out the door and leave you to grieve alone.
You hoped he would allow you your space, finally.
But he moved swiftly to catch you where you fell, taking you into his arms.
It had been forever since you had been cradled against someone’s chest where you rested fully in their arms.
You remembered your father holding you and carrying you home after you fell from your bike in grade school.
You remembered crying into his shoulder as he told you, “you fell the first time so that you could learn how to stand up on your own next time. You’re my strong girl, you just don’t know it yet.”
Chanyeol carried you effortlessly down the hall and looked into each door until he found your bedroom.
He sat down with you still in his arms, letting out a deep breath as he turned to lay you down to rest on top of your sheets.
“Here. Just rest here,” he said, his eyes beginning to puff up no doubt from the tears in his eyes.
As you laid there, the height of your anger and the fevered race of your anxiety depleting you of the strength and the will to resist.
“I’ll just wait outside like I said. I’ll-” he began not looking at you as he awkwardly tried to help you tuck yourself into your bed though you were not turning your body to allow him to help you in.
You placed a hand on his arm, noting the depth of the tan that had settled in.
You remembered the tautness of his forearms, and the ripple of his veins.
He looked up at you as you placed your hand there.
And you saw the invitation.
You felt the fire of desire rising in the way he somehow leaned closer to you.
“Chanyeol…” you whimpered as he leaned closer and kissed your forehead.
He murmured your name like an incantation against the bridge of your nose.
ACT I. “The Sea”
Length - 2,922
Mood - Despondent, Yearning
Pairing - Tao x Reader
“Afterwards, I paused and watched the sea and the sunset
I found that this world is as beautiful as you say it is
The you and I that left
The vacations that we've had
Right now, can I hug you one more time?
I want to thank the you from before for giving me different outlooks towards life ”
“19” by Tao
_____________________
Days were spent memorizing scents. Textures. Sounds. Taste.
The fluttering and trilling of a distant woodlark.
The crash and drag of the churning ocean tides against the ragged rocks and beaten sand just beyond your window.
The tolling of the chapel bell.
The chattering of children as they zoomed by on ringing bikes.
The click clack of so many people coming and going.
The lonesome whistling of the train in old town.
The smell of lavender soap on your grandmother’s hands as she returned to dress your bandages.
Her kiss at your brow while her weathered palms cupped your tearful cheeks as she whispered, “mi querida, dulce _____. Descansa ahora.”
She would gently hold your wrists down before leaving, reminding you through gesture alone to not scratch away at the fresh bandages she’d wound tightly around your skull, protecting your healing corneas and eyelids.
Days passed listening to your aunt read your school materials to you that had been mailed upon your request by your academic advisor. You refused to attempt reading on your own, doubting your vision could have been restored as the physicians claimed.
“____ no quiere ver a nadie en este momento. Querida necesita descansar,” your aunt would murmur into the phone outside your closed door.
You did not wonder who intended to visit.
In your life, you had never wanted the solace you faced now, but for every moment that passed since the terror that had been witnessing for the last time the feral snarling grimace of someone you had once been so fond of, you were grateful for the reprieve. You treasured the distance you could keep without having to make excuses for it.
There were whispers at night from your grandparents, and aunts and uncles and cousins. Tearful conferences arguing about whether to pursue charges on your behalf since you would not discuss the case further with them.
You briefly remembered waking up in your hospital bed, screaming as if your eyes were still burning and vomiting at the smell of rotting flesh, startling your family who waited for you to rouse from extensive recurring reconstructive surgeries.
“Este hombre dice que pagará por ello, mi ____. Querida, hay alguien que quiere ayudarte a ti y a nuestra familia. No podemos costear sus cirugías y lamentamos. Pero él quiere hacerte justicia. Por favor, mi querida,” your uncles pleaded.
In the end, your grandmother made the choice as you knew she would.
She answered his call, and invited them to your house after allowing you a prescribed sedative earlier that morning.
“We are thankful to you, Sir. Please. She is all that we have. It has been difficult for us to believe this could happen to her. On our own, we can do so much but with help there is more that we can do,” you could hear her huffing as she and your grandfather bent to their knees and each grasped at his hands. You knew your uncles were biting back their pride.
“Please. This is something we are more than willing to help with. Again we deeply, and sincerely apologize that while in our care ______ was hurt to the extreme that it happened. What help we can offer can never undo what happened, but we will take special care of her from now on with your permission.”
Despite the fog of your sleep aids you could remember the smell of them after they had gone. You could discern the remnants of her sweet, airy, and his subtle smoldering scents dissipating amongst the heated conversation within the kitchen below as your grandmother prepared the family’s evening meal of fideuà.
“We don’t have to wait for the court. We can have our revenge,” your uncles would bluster.
“And then what would happen? It’s already in the news. Let’s not take it further,” your aunts would caution.
“Why do we have to stop? We are her family,” your grandfather roared.
“Where is he now when she needs him…” your cousins questioned.
“Where he had always been…” your uncles murmured derisively.
They quieted at the shushing of your grandmother and you heard the stairs creak at her weight as she climbed to your bedroom, the savory mixture of fire roasted tomato, starchy pasta and fresh seafood inspiring yearning gurgles in your stomach.
“Querida,” she would say upon entering your room and you could see the smile in her voice that was only for you.
She set the tray on your desk before rushing to help you sit up in bed, propping you up with multiple pillows.
“Ahora querida, ¿ves lo que hice para ti? Ven a comer,” she would breathe before blowing on the spoon she brought to your lips. She would wrap your hand around her hand after your first bite, and place hers over yours, guiding you up and down at your urging.
You felt a familiar tugging at your throat as a lump of unshed tears threatened to overcome you.
You bit it back as she fed you, pausing to wipe your mouth, again placing the napkin where she meant to clean you and then replacing her hand with yours to allow you to finish the action, before she prepared the next bite.
“Querida, aquí hay un poco de agua,” she would say as she brought your left hand down to the cup on the tray resting on your lap. You shivered at the difference of temperature of firm warmth in her hands and the cold resolve of the icy glass but held on to bring the glass up higher to your face until she paused to put the straw between your lips.
When you were full, she cleared the tray away, her weight lifting clear and away from where you rested day in and day out.
“Abuela, no me dejes, por favor. Por favor,” you choked out, whimpering at how laborious it somehow was to speak again.
“Querida, querida. Shhh shhhh no no,” she cried out, leaving the tray and empty dishes on your desk with a clatter, her bare feet thumping against the wooden floor as she returned to you, wrapping her arms around you though she was mindful of avoiding your bandages.
“Quiero ver, quiero ver. Estoy asustado. Quiero que todo vuelva a ser como era,” your heart exclaimed, pumping out its forlorn declaration within your grandmother’s embrace.
But what your grandmother heard instead was your tentative, “¿donde esta mi padre?”
She waited a beat, smoothing your hair from your face, swaying as she hummed a familiar church hymn.
“Él sabe,” she muttered against your forehead, kissing you once again.
You snuggled deeper into her embrace, waiting though you already knew the story.
Your father had always been an innovative, amicable man serving his centuries old marine family well from the time he started learning the trade as a young child. He had never met a stranger and had never known an enemy. What he lacked in academic triumph he exceeded in his street smarts and business savvy.
But for all that he acquired for his family, and doted on them, he was still naive to the true nature of the world.
Your sunny, docile father was interested in furthering the potential reach of the family business and fearlessly approached a neighboring Catalan mariner company despite the protestations of his family. He braved the seas, confident in his quest and the purpose of his business venture. And upon reaching land, he was struck by the fair island beauty of the businessman’s daughter for he hadn’t been prepared for her.
She watched him as he delivered his speech, her eyes cutting between her father and brothers and the main from the small Eastern Barcelona mariner company. Despite the odds, he prevailed as if it was destined to be and as promised he performed the duties as chosen delegate of his family, sharing the profits and reaping the benefits. Benefits of rising early and casting himself into the throes of the tide promised not only a hearty catch but a brief moment to gaze upon the beauty of that fair subdued lady. Gazes returned and transformed into sweet notions and dreams and love.
Hushed, hurried, hopeful love.
Of this love you were conceived and cherished.
Of this love the two dreamers hoped above all that was real in the chance to see their secret embraced.
But your Catalan grandparents refused to acknowledge their love, forbidding their marriage, claiming instead that they would disown her, turning her belongings out into the ocean that had carried your father into her arms.
Seeing the fear and confusion on their beloved daughter’s face, they relented for a brief moment.
And during that brief moment of innocent, blissful plans made by your equally innocent parents, age old political tensions resurged restricting the abilities and freedom of your mother's Catalan family, a blow that resolutely doomed their loving union to fail.
On the day of her departure, her family pulled her aside while your father waited at the pier, that she would be allowed to be received into the home of her lover to bear her child but she would never see you grow up. She would be given two weeks time and then would return to never again see either of you.
You never knew if she was angry or if she cried while she was here with your father and your family because no one said so. Instead everyone talked about the way she smiled, the way she laughed, they way she sang, the way she danced through her labor pains, the way your father looked after her, and the way he held her and nursed her during her labor as he had promised right alongside his mother and sisters and sisters-in-law.
Even after you were born, your mother remained bright and cheerful, singing to you as she nursed, talking to you throughout the day as she cooked, reading to you, and praying over you.
It was only on the night of her departure when your father was packing his bag to return with you both to spend two weeks with her family in return as he had thought he had promised, that your mother stopped him at the door where her father and brothers waited and told him the truth, tearful only in front of him.
She was promised to another man in order to protect the family business and to protect him, her lover and her daughter, from financial ruin. If she agreed to marry this man, her family would not harm her lover and her child. The contract would be dissolved, and they would part amicably.
Your father listened and grieved where he stood, watching her as she was carried away from him, her doleful eyes on him as she screamed out begging for more time, her cries disturbing the midnight air. He watched, his posture slack until it seemed that she was swallowed by the ocean and gone from him and you forever.
He dissolved at the open front door, evaporating into the misty night air, becoming a phantom not only to his family, but to you his daughter. A phantom who existed only on the high seas.
You startled awake at the scent of burning tobacco in the air, turning your head towards your door as you would habitually do though you knew he was already gone.
Days were spent remembering scents, stories, sights.
Days were spent waiting for comfort.
“Papa…?”
You whimpered despite what you knew to be true.
You waited for her too though you remembered in a very deliberate out of body way their positions in the sand as if you were playing chess upon your downstairs dining room floor with your cousins goading you on to challenge your grandfather.
You remembered who was close.
You remembered who had run and who had only watched.
You remembered the hospital though you frantically tried to forget at first.
You remembered _________ (Edinburgh Reader) riding in the ambulance with you.
You remembered her telling you to hang on, and telling you that she was here. That Tao had gone ahead in the first ambulance but that everything was ok.
You remembered Tao’s shouts.
You remembered that because he had forced you back that he been doused across his left arm and shoulder.
You remembered the searing pain coursing through your body as you scrambled and fought the water that you fallen into.
You remembered hearing grunting and punches landing. Screaming. Shouting. Running. Sirens. Curses.
“You crazy fuck!”
“Stop Tao! Stop!”
You remembered someone’s burning flesh and the singeing of your nose. You remembered his scent of clove soap, sun rays and cinnamon toothpaste.
You remembered his voice. “I got her. I got her. Just tell them to come this way!”
“Oh dear God. God, please hurry! We are here!” _______ (Berlin Reader) exclaimed, dropping composure completely.
You remembered them. You remembered all but her.
And somewhere in your heart you knew how pitiful you were then.
Safe from those memories now, and progressing forward in the days that came after the sudden appearance and disappearance of your father, your family came to speak with you about their offer.
“You can begin therapy now and we will return to see your doctor for the next assessment.”
“Now that we have completed your research and your paper that can be submitted to your advisor.”
“They are offering you a job now that your graduation is secured.”
You listened, orienting yourself from where each voice of your family emanated, considering all that they advised.
You knew that their advisements were not suggestions and that they were merely informing you of the plan that had been decided.
You attended the physician appointments, grateful to feel the fresh air on your skin, and to smell the proximity of the salted water of your ocean.
Arranged for you were potential cosmetic and transplant surgeries if approved by your physician and yourself, payments were already secured.
You were allowed time to consider as you proceeded with occupational therapy.
And as you re-entered society you waited, doubtful of whether you knew who you truly waited for.
Gradually you allowed phone calls, and texts, turning on the phone you had requested was shut down.
Your cousins were more than happy to help you with reading through and discarding messages and voicemails.
You were afraid to ask who appeared in your notifications most often though they told you anyway.
“There are a lot of foreign numbers here, ______”
“And foreign names…? Is it Toe?”
Giggles.
“Why does your face look like that?”
“You’re blushing!”
“Who is...______ (Edinburgh Reader)?”
“I can’t say some of these names!”
Suddenly your phone chimed.
“It’s ringing!” They sang holding the phone out to you.
“Press the talk button!” They cheered, obtuse to your bewildered expression.
“Hello? ________? Are you there?” Tao asked.
The youngest of your cousins grasped your hands and placed the phone there.
“Put it on speaker!” One of the boys pushed past, bumping against your bed until he pressed the button that raised the volume of Tao’s voice so he could be heard.
He called out to you again, sounding nervous, “______?”
“Privacy! Move!” One of the your younger girl cousins announced corralling your cousins out the door.
Alone together again you were frightened.
But he waited.
“_______?”
You pressed the screen frantically until you heard the electronic click, exhaling at the silence that greeted you.
You slid under your covers, pushing the pillows to the floor.
And immediately, you regretted your cowardice.
You sat up, slightly lightheaded at the rush to your head.
You called downstairs and heard your cousins running back up the stairs at the sound of your voice to help you.
“Did he hang up?”
“Did you want to try again?”
And again they went through your contacts until they found his number again.
“Certain things I felt were missing
Certain things I felt were finishing
Projecting fear –
Fell in love with a future dream that wasn’t there
Don’t live so scared
In a moment it’s history so bring it here”
“Certain Things” by Lyves feat. Jalen Santoy
“Hello?” A familiar voice called at your salon door following a brisk knock.
“Who is it?” ____ (Almaty Reader) sang in reply, as she returned from the dressing area of your salon where the chattering of voices rose and fell in various excited pitches.
“Sehun. I’m here to see _____.”
“Ah, i believe she’ll be right there,” she turned to where you sat on the loveseat beside ____ (Barcelona Reader) and nodded her head towards the door as she danced back to her seat.
You covered _____’s (Barcelona’s Reader) shoulders with her robe, patting her hand once before you rose to open the door where Sehun stood against the opposing wall, the tension in his frame seeming to calm once he saw you.
“Can we talk for a minute ______?” He asked, though he seemed to insist rather than request your presence. It was the way he gestured, beckoning you from the salon.
“I’ll be right back,” you assured ______ (Barcelona Reader.) She nodded to you giving you an encouraging smile as a slight hush fell over the room at your departure.
You followed Sehun back out into the greeting area where you had originally entered the Hammam and sat on the plush velvet seat he gestured for you to take before pulling out a chair from a neighboring table to face you.
A couple walked by where you sat, giggling as they kissed and struggled to part to their respective dressing areas. Her heels clicking against the floor while the soles of his dress shoes clacked in response.
“I’ll see you later,” the man warbled in an uninhibited libidinous tone, his hands lingering around her waist.
“Shhh!! Later,” the woman sighed as she detangled herself from him as he kissed her cheek and watched her saunter away.
“I got your message about talking about things. I am open to that. I think we need to decide what we are going to do and if we want this to work.”
His tone was assertive though there was a slight hesitation in his eyes as he waited for you to respond. Had he been watching the couple who had appeared just then too?
He hadn’t changed from his black tie suit that he wore throughout The First Supper. He had loosened his tie around his neck and removed his suit jacket to rest folded over his forearm. You still wore your gown, of black floor length chiffon and sequins though you had changed into your slippers, packing your heels into your bag.
He was looking at you warily as if he thought you were going to start in on him right there. He sat with his arms folded against his chest while he waited for you to respond.
But since you had planned for this conversation to take place after witnessing the success of the event, you felt exhausted and exposed, altogether different than what he may have been apprehensive to experience.
Throughout the past year you both had respected each other’s space somehow silently agreeing on an unofficial break.
And while alone, revolving in your own imaginings bogged down with fear and worry, you could remain separate from the eyes and judgement of others.
Whatever projects were requested for you to complete by the board you handled independently in a timely manner. Outside of your projects you remained separate from your board focusing on freelance contracts you acquired since beginning your joint business venture.
You were worried that you were obvious in your attempts to avoid conversation, but soon realized that the rest of your board hurried on their own way, quick to dismiss invitations for further catching up or fellowship.
______ (Berlin Reader) approached you following one board meeting in early Spring when you hadn’t slipped out of the room ahead of everyone else’s departure.
“Dulcet, if you have a moment,” she inquired, coming to sit in front of you on the sleek oblong meeting desk at the satellite office in London that had once been filled with auxiliary staff from both the Berlin and London offices who remotely assisted you ______ (Colorado Reader,) ______ (Marseille Reader,) and ______ (Lyon Reader) who had joined this meeting by phone and Skype, with your current editorial you were compiling featuring achievements and areas of opportunities for your vast enterprise. The editorial would be placed in the mail and sent to intended and potential subscribers who were regular patrons of the Pathcodes enterprise.
You stopped rummaging in your bag to clear away your notes you had brought in for your joint presentation, and looked at her.
She seemed to smile genuinely as she gestured for you to take a seat.
“I just wanted to commend you on what my sources have shared with me you have been working on in your spare time. You have received sterling accolades and in your own right are beginning to grow a solid level of consumer support for yourself. I just wanted to ask you what you planned to do with that,” her head tilted slightly to the side as she came to the end of her statement, signaling that she wanted you to answer. Her hair shimmered as she moved, sleek curtain of perfectly manicured asymmetrical bob.
But you were caught by surprise at the abruptness of her question.
“I always assumed I would continue to work for the enterprise now that it has started. I really enjoy my freelance work and am honored that I am doing so well that they have reached out to let you know. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that, really. I guess...I am not sure what really comes next. I have not thought about it,” you looked away for a brief moment, hearing her “Mhm.”
“Is this because of something going on your personal life? Perhaps between you and Sehun?”
You blushed, your gaze snapping back to her as if bringing her back into focus.
Her expression was not goading you nor was it judging you. It seemed like she just wanted to know.
Your heart thrummed in your throat as you opened your mouth to respond.
“Well I-”
“Excuse me, Miss. Sir Minseok is requesting that you return. Your next meeting has arrived,” the attendant informed her, bowing as he swiftly exited as he had also entered.
Her mouth pressed into a hard firm line at the interruption but she stood and apologized to you that she could not stay longer.
“Our personal relationships outside of our professional lives are our foundation and our comfort. Somehow we have come up with the bright idea to merge the two. So far it seems to be working but sometimes things do fall apart. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to help, all right?” She asked to which you thanked her and waited until she collected her pea coat and briefcase to begin putting your materials away again until a thought struck you.
“Have you heard anything from ______ (Barcelona Reader)? I have tried her number for awhile now and I am not getting anything. I just wanted to make sure she was ok,” you called after her just as she had pushed open the tall meeting room door.
Her heels clicked as she ducked her head back in to relay that “when Minseok visited her last, her family requested some privacy for the time being but we have offered a therapeutic package that they are considering. I believe she accepted the surgeries recommended by our physician’s council and they found applicable donors. From what I know she is doing well. She just needs some more time.”
It had taken months since that conversation before you finally got a phone call back from her. But once you reconnected she let you know everything that was going on with her attending occupational therapy and counseling.
Though she was happy to have completed her final academic thesis with the assistance of her aunt, she felt entirely estranged from her university that had once been a place of habitual comfort.
“So many of those people wrote horrible things about me and the people that I consider friends. And for what? Their gossip was all anyone could talk about on the news for days. My family couldn’t go into town much less continue our mariner business without something bringing it up. It was all over the papers. I’m just...glad it’s all over so there’s no reason to go back there now. It’s not worth it.”
She also didn’t plan on attending her program’s graduation but instead wanted to invite you to a small get together she was having with her family later that summer.
She told you about all the arrangements her family was making for the event at their home. Family friends would bring extra tables and lanterns to provide more seating for everyone. Her grandparents were fussing over the menu daily, going back and forth about what items should be made based on who was coming.
“My grandmother wants me to wear this dress she stitched for me. It’s going to be a whole thing,” she sounded very amused at the idea. You weren’t sure if she was amused at their attempts or if she was imagining the particular dress that her grandmother had in mind.
“Either way I’m sure you’re going to be gorgeous. What about wearing two outfits? A suit and then later on a dress? Or vice versa? It is your special night, right?” You suggested as you finished painting your nails, and carefully tucked your phone between your ear and shoulder; blowing hot air from your lips at the finished design.
“Maybe. Ah honestly I’ll probably just wear the dress. My family has been so supportive through all of this. A dress for one night is nothing,” you could hear her shrugging.
She became silent for a moment as if lost in thought.
“I-I...asked Tao to invite both you and Sehun since I talked to him about it first. He’s really excited about all of us getting to spend time together again,” she confessed.
“O-of course. Did Sehun say that he would come?” You asked without thinking of how that would sound, your eye catching on the small bottle of rose polish in your clear glass bowl he bought for you. He’d worn the shade during a photo shoot a year before and bought a bottle for you immediately after the shoot saying to you when you opened the small gift bag he’d delivered it to you in that, “the whole time they were painting the color I thought of you. It reminded me of something you would wear.”
“I..? Didn’t you two talk about this? I asked him a week or so ago.” She sounded startled by your question.
“I...well. Things have been different-”
“What happened?” You heard her shifting in her bed, and hoped you weren’t preventing her from sleeping though she was just an hour ahead.
“It’s not really a long story but-”
“________ what’s going on? Tao said that you may not come if Sehun comes. Are you two not speaking? What’s the matter?” As she spoke she lowered her voice and you heard the voice of her grandmother call out to her asking whether she was going to sleep.
“I’m just talking with a friend grandma. Good night,” ______ (Barcelona Reader) called back, her voice muffled as if she’d covered the mouthpiece of the phone.
“Hello?”
“I’m here,” you replied moving from your desk to sit on your bed alongside Rena who snuffled and whined in her sleep at the disturbance your sudden weight on the mattress created.
“Sorry,” you whispered to her, petting her belly like she liked.
“What happened?” She asked again.
You sighed.
“I don’t know what to say. I just...I got this weird message-”
“From who?”
“I don’t recognize the number and I tried to research it but it doesn’t seem to go back to anyone-”
“What does this have to do with Sehun and you-”
“He’s in the message. The message is about Sehun. They said that he’s not who I think he is...”
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes it’s here-”
“Well can you read what it says to me?” She asked and you froze suddenly afraid for more people to know what you had kept private and hidden even from yourself.
“I don’t-”
“Is it sensitive? Like he’s exposed or something?”
“Well it’s not like that but it’s like that...does that make sense?” You asked, unsure of how much to say or whether you should say anything at all.
While you could avoid questions from your family about Sehun and your relationship, with ______ (Barcelona Reader) who was much closer to him than your own sister it was difficult to decide how to proceed. Your fear of what the message insinuated transformed itself within you. At first viewing you were numb then gradually frightened then eerily suspicious and mistrustful then regretfully lonely and sorry. But you hid yourself from Sehun and all of these thoughts you had because that familiar uncertainty that you thought had been banished at the start of your relationship returned as if it was mocking you for trusting him so soon.
And deeper than that you wondered if you were wrong about him and then investigated him amongst his friends and accused him but he was found innocent that you would look just as that girl had who had interrupted your initial board meeting in Colorado all those many months and months ago. You would be no better than that person who had assumed and been found wanting in her assumptions.
If you betrayed him to his friends, you could not stay with him and you could not remain friends with the women you’d started to find friendship with.
Wasn’t it better to just keep to yourself than cause him harm?
But judging from the concerned tone in ______ (Barcelona Reader) voice, your escalation from fear to suspicion to reserved mournful distance had distorted your image to not only Sehun but the very people you had once hoped to remain close to.
“I don’t understand...? Have you asked Sehun about it? What if it’s some weird stalker or something? How long ago did you get this? Have they contacted you again?” She fired question after question interrupting your shamed thoughts.
“A while ago. That thought did cross my mind at first but something about it seemed like it was more than that-”
“A while ago?! Did you ask Sehun?” She persisted.
“No,” you answered your voice small and ever more ashamed.
“Why not?! How could you wait a while and not say anything? What if something happens to him?! What if it’s a threat?! We’re supposed to talk with ______ (Berlin Reader) before something happens versus after, remember?” She sounded panicked, and you wondered if you should continue this conversation while she was still trying to work on recovery. From what she shared with you the reconstructive surgeries had been graded as miraculously successful by her physicians but she was hesitant to attempt going out into the daylight without protective glasses or coverings over her head. As a result she had begun recognizing a steady growth of anxiety within her at the very mention from her family of journeying anywhere outside the vicinity of their home. Even a brisk afternoon walk to the nearby docks wreaked havoc on her nerves for fear that something more would happen — his friends finishing the retaliations he had begun for instance.
You suddenly felt guilty for wanting to confide in her when she was still trying to heal. She was right. You had been selfish and fearful and stupid. How could you possibly ever say you loved him when you walked away without getting an answer? How could you betray him like that? How could you not even try to protect him when he would have done everything in his power to protect you?
“I... ______ (Barcelona Reader) I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t-”
“Why are you sorry? I’m just saying. That’s what we are supposed to do..”
“Yea...” you answered trying to keep your focus on Rena instead of the memory you were both referencing.
“_____ what’s wrong? Did he say something to you? Did he hurt you?” The panic in her voice became ever more palpable.
“No. No Sehun would never hurt me. It’s just...I feel afraid to ask him. I am afraid of what the truth is,” you confessed lying down beside Rena who snuffled and whined at your recurring disturbance. She smelled faintly of the bread you’d baked earlier that afternoon and the cinnamon, cedar and cloves of her shampoo — another gift from Sehun.
“I can understand that...the truth can be shocking. But living in the dark is terrifying because at any time the truth can appear and if you’re not ready for it then...is it that bad? Oh poor Sehun,” ______ (Barcelona Reader) sounded tearful as she considered your concerns.
“I don’t know what to do...” you gulped, feeling fresh waves of regret and embarrassment wash over you.
“But you don’t trust him? You don’t trust him to tell you the truth?”
“I don’t know. What if he doesn’t?”
“But what if he does? What if someone is trying to hurt him and because you don’t tell him he can’t protect himself,” the panic in her voice was rising again, unbidden.
“If you won’t explain it to me then you have to tell him. Promise me,” she said after you failed to respond. You were turned away from your upturned phone, sobbing soundlessly into your pillow.
“You have to have courage, ________. Have courage for Sehun and tell him the truth so that he can be protected. I...what if something bad happens to him because you don’t tell him the truth? What then? Could you be ok with that?” She went on.
“No I couldn’t. I couldn’t stomach that. I don’t want anything to happen to him-”
“Then why don’t you say something? That’s not fair to Sehun that you’re judging him like that-”
“What if I can’t help him? What if this thing he is accused of is real? What...we have been together all this time and how could I not have noticed? Could he have kept it from me? It just doesn’t seem possible? We spent almost every moment together? I-”
“I understand being afraid to think that someone would lie to you about who they are but you didn’t even ask him, _______. So how do you really know?”
You ended the conversation after that with ______ (Barcelona Reader) saying that it was up to you to decide what to do.
In your heart you knew that you had denied him the benefit of the doubt and had denied him that from the beginning.
“You’re always looking for a way out,” you whispered into your pillow.
But you picked up your phone and texted him just before falling asleep.
“After our New Year's Event, let’s talk. I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk.”
When you woke in the morning, the text was still unread.
——————
“I would like that. When you didn’t answer my message I thought that maybe you didn’t want to talk. I would understand that since...the way I acted was just…” you made a nonsensical gesture and took a deep breath before looking him in the eyes.
He watched you, unfazed. Waiting.
“If we could choose a neutral place I think that would be a good idea. Wh-what do you think?” You asked unnerved by his watchful silence.
He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, nodding as he gave you a slight diplomatic smile.
“That sounds good to me _______. I look forward to talking. I think we may need a break from this though,” he said gesturing to your surroundings but you knew he meant the business as a whole.
“I think no matter what we decide between us that we need a break for at least a couple months from all this. That way...no matter what we decide we can either choose to move forward with this or not,” he said, folding his hands together as he braced his forearms against his knees as he looked at you, searching your eyes for your response.
You nodded, feeling yourself tearing up as he watched you.
“I don’t...I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, wiping your tears away before they fell.
He surprised you by reaching out to you, extending his arm with a handkerchief in hand.
“Don’t say that. Things happen sometimes _______. We’ll talk later ok? It’s going to be ok,” he said as you took the handkerchief and dabbed at your eyes and hesitated on whether to give the handkerchief back.
“You can keep it, if you want,” he said as you both stood and he walked you to the place where that couple had briefly stood just moments ago.
“I’ll see you later then,” he said walking backwards without taking his eyes from you before he turned to head down the hall.
You watched him still as he went, and thought that he seemed taller now than he did when you first walked out to talk together.
I don’t deserve you because I am a coward, you chided yourself bitterly as you walked down the hall to return to your salon.
____________
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You heard yourself asking ______ (Berlin Reader) where she stood amongst ______ (Lyon Reader,) ______ (Almaty Reader,) and ______ (Arizona Reader.)
She turned at the sound of your voice, and when she found you there she looked a mixture of both concerned and doubtfully curious.
Was it something in your nervous expression?
“Me? Of course…” she gestured for you to follow her into the black SUV she shared with Minseok and you climbed in behind her after one of her attendants opened the door for the two of you and closed it before standing guard outside.
The air conditioning hummed softly as an upbeat hip hop tune bumped in its lower bass tones.
You took a calm breath as you told her what you came to say.
“Some time ago you asked me what I wanted to do now that I have accomplished what I have here. And at the time I did not have an answer for you and I still do not,” perhaps you were self consciously misconstruing how disappointed she looked in your response.
“After this retreat, I realize how much I have come away from what I was when we started this business. I am not sure why I feel so lost or if I always was lost and am now just realizing it. I think part of it is because of my personal relationship...and I want to try to figure that out,” you went on and saw that she intended to speak.
“So what you are trying to say is…”
“That Sehun and I are going to take a break. We need to. I am not sure if that is something that we can do but it is something that we want to do. I believe he spoke with Minseok already and I wanted to talk with you and tell you myself,” you finished your statement and she nodded her head as if that is exactly what she expected you would say.
“I cannot promise you that there will be work for both or either of you when you return. We have to fill those positions immediately since you are integral members. I can allow a brief month’s absence but even that is too lenient. You have been very quiet for most of our trip and I have been watching that. I am not sure whether you intend to stay as much as Sehun intends to stay. I know he may feel a strongly loyalty to Minseok than you do to us and I understand where that comes from. That is why it was so important for you to participate in this retreat. Do you understand how you looked? Do you understand how it will look for you to walk away after playing nursemaid to ______ (Barcelona Reader) when I could have hired a nurse for her if that was necessary? She would not have been cleared by our physician’s council to proceed in our enterprise if she needed more time. Even ______ (Barcelona Reader) is ready, so what excuse and time do you really need, ______?” ______ (Berlin Reader) asked, her gaze icy as she measured you.
You felt your heart sinking as she waited for you.
“Don’t misunderstand me and think I am a cruel and heartless woman. I really am not. I promise you. I understand that love is all consuming and confusing and thrilling. I understand that we are all at one point young, impressionable, passionate, idealistic and hopeful. I understand that things change. But what you must come back to is who you are and what you want to do with your life. That’s what we talked about and that’s where we are transitioning next. There is no reason for you to lose out on this opportunity because of what this relationship may or may not turn out to be. Your work is valued and your contributions have been instrumental in our success. I want you to recognize that and start acting like it, _______,” her tone was no louder than the hum of the air conditioner but it sent a chill through you akin to only what your elder sister had at one time or another.
“I…” You gulped as tears sprung from your eyes as if of their own will at her words.
“Go to him and resolve it so you can move on. Something is eating you alive and you are just lying there watching it happen to you instead of getting up and doing something about it. The girl I met in Colorado was not like that but the woman I am looking at now is not even aware of herself. I have no right to your personal information but at the same time because we are in business together and our lives affect each other, I have to be tenacious and territorial when someone does not realize that they are steadily becoming dead weight,” her words were everything ______ (Barcelona Reader) had warned you that you would incur if you did not go to ______ (Berlin Reader) first as you all were meant to do.
Some part of you was admittedly angry that she was so callously blunt but knew better than to take her criticism as her intention to ruthlessly destroy your sense of self worth. She meant to and intended to claw from you the weighing cloak of self doubt and fear that clouded your judgement and twisted at your heart, mellowing the love you had thrived on once upon time and gutting you of your will to fight for what was yours.
ACT I. “Kuoshi”
Length - 3,096
Mood - Resentment, Confusion,
Pairing - Yixing x Reader
Trigger Warning - mention of suicide
“Baby tonight, forget your worries I’ll use my warmth to embrace you/Baby tonight, the anticipated sound of the clock strikes/Baby tonight, let the story flow like this/This is the time to decide the unforeseeable future/Baby tonight, I need to hold you tonight to relieve the worries ”
“Tonight” by Zhang Yixing
_______________
December
Mending.
It was the second time you’d taken a walk down the hall since arriving back at your office this morning.
Except this time you took the stairs instead of the elevator down to the first floor.
Out to the lobby.
Out to the fresh air.
Of the Spring City.
“Ma’am, shall I have a car brought around? My apologies for not having a car ready ahead of time,” the attendant commented as soon as he saw you pass over the threshold of the lobby doors, your cane clicking into place beside you.
Perhaps you only sensed a slight irritation in the way he looked at you when you smiled, and shook your head that “it’s not a problem.”
“My apologies nonetheless ma’am. Please be careful,” he stated, a slight derisive tone in his voice as you moved past him and down the steps to the busy street below.
It took some doing to keep up with the flow of foot traffic now that you were up once again from your desk, but you welcomed the challenge eagerly, preferring to be out amongst the fresh air than waiting another moment for him to return.
You’d talked about this meeting with Yixing briefly over the past couple of weeks, once he’d received the official invitation to the Governor’s residence.
The general headquarters for Yixing’s conglomerate had been a flutter since it’s arrival, and request for Yixing’s presence in early December.
“Of course you will accept this offer of appointment to aid the Governor of Yunnan, Yixing. His is the second highest office available to a public official within our province. He is second only to the Secretary of the Provincial Congress. It is what we have been waiting for. Your parents would be proud,” his advisors had insisted once he’d finally opened the letter.
It had been hand delivered by a personal messenger from the Governor, who was tasked to wait for Yixing’s response.
You had been in the middle of planning the first Return to Terra festival to be held in a yet to be decided public square following Kyungsoo’s short visit some months before when the letter had arrived that stalled all conversation that had previously been underway.
The look on Yixing’s face was bound, and refined, even when his glance passed over you.
But you’d expected nothing less.
Following your return to work, a slim white unaddressed envelope greeted you on your desk one morning, within which was a small stack of photographs of you, and Yixing.
In public.
In moments that you trusted to have been private.
And a single note.
“Is this what a Foreign Direct Investment does for the people of Yunnan? Will this bring prosperity to our province?”
And though you wanted to throw the note out the window, you braced yourself against your desk, fighting the urge to scream as you counted down from 10 before dialing Yixing’s office, and asking his secretary to schedule a meeting with him before lunch.
Instead, he came immediately following your call.
You stood by the window, hearing him enter.
His breath came, and escaped him as if he’d run the flights down to your office in a frenzy.
“Baobei, what happened? What’s-”
You felt the wind knocked out of you for a second time as you heard his confused stutter into shocked silence as he looked at the photos you’d spread across your desk, and the lone note whose handwriting you didn’t recognize.
“Baobei, I can fix this. Just let me bring this to my advisors-”
“Yixing, you cannot fix this. Look at what the rest of the note says,” you spoke slowly, calmly.
A pause as he did as you asked, before a flurry of movement upon your desk as he looked for the unfolded photocopy of the report filed with the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection detailing improper usage of company funds earned through an international financial agreement for personal/recreational benefit, and lewd public behavior.
The second claim was out of spite, but the first claim brought a cold chill to your spine.
A shroud of shame snaking its way around your ankles, tying you in place.
Not only had the Butler violated your peace.
Now his employer haunted your every move.
“But for some reason you chose to go back there. You’ve made your choice. Now stick with it…”
“It’s not over _____,” he said to you from far away, across the wind, across the world.
And you turned to him, your cane made of the pure iron of Yixing’s mines, tapping a meditative semi-circle at your feet as you faced him with fresh tears in your eyes.
“Yixing, it is over. It is. You cannot risk your businesses for me. I will not let you. There have been too many officials that have been brought to justice within the past six months by this one commission for crimes I hadn’t dreamed of. There is a serious effort being made to stamp out any whiff of corruption. Don’t tell me that you forgot the official who committed suicide after being found out not only for shady business dealings, but for keeping several mistresses. Impropriety, and indiscretion is not tolerated Yixing. Never. We can-”
“We cannot just give up. You are not, and have never been my mistress. We have not misused-”
“It doesn’t even matter if we did not misuse company funds. It doesn’t matter where the money came from. It doesn’t matter if their claims were unfounded. Yixing don’t you see?!” You felt the air chilling within you as you looked at him, seeing him in his willful innocence, and faithful morality. Seeing his pure susceptible heart, and wanting to forcefully protect it, and yourself.
“_____-”
“Yixing once they start looking into your history, they will ask about me. They will ask about this mysterious accident you have made up. They will ask what really happened. And then they will find out about the Butler. It is over, Yixing,” you stepped back as he moved forward, your cane clattering to the floor, abruptly abandoning your hands in your hurry to move away, and shield yourself from comfort.
But he moved swiftly still, catching you before you slid to the hardwood floor.
“Why are you asking me to give you up?” his grip was gentle where he supported you, but you knew that he was ever mindful that he was protecting you from the rage resounding within his own body.
“I am not asking you. The world demands it. I have compromised you. I have compromised myself. I have shamed your office. I-”
“How we feel about each other is a shame?” He was genuinely surprised, his clear eyes clouded in vivid grief of which you could not see through to the end.
“How do we feel about each other? Is it real? Was it convenient for you? Having me here at the office? Why-”
“Why are you looking for a way out? Are you asking me to be angry with you? To resent you? Why are you running away?” You were horrified at the sound of it. At the truth of it. Of how real it had become, and how much you didn’t want to be part of this pain.
“Will you think for just a moment? Can you forget me for just a moment and think about the people of your province? The promise I made to you when we first met? That is why I’m here,” you had been keeping your eyes on your own hands holding his forearms within his silk white button down sleeves, willing your core to remain strong as you’d learned in physical therapy to keep yourself upright.
One of his hands lifted to your chin, propelling your gaze upward as the thunder, and rain of the rage within his eyes bore down on you.
“Is that the only reason why you’re here?”
“Yixing-”
“I need to know now so that I can plan my next move,” the lightning flashed closer.
You shook your head, willing him to stop, and to let you go.
“Yixing-”
“Yes or no?” He snapped.
“N-no,” you breathed, and he exhaled hotly, pulling away from you so that he could stand.
He crossed to your desk, quickly gathering the photographs, and the note, placing them neatly into the slim envelope as if they were documents he was going to ask his secretary to file away.
You waited, watching the muscles in his back twitch as he stood with the envelope placed upon the desk as it had been when you arrived.
His arms were spread out before him, his open palms flat against the desk as he leaned forward, his head bent in serene thought.
You picked up your cane, and held it between both hands, waiting.
“We will apologize to the staff. I will schedule it. I will meet with the Commission tomorrow morning. I will fix this,” he stated simply as if he was telling you what he’d like to have for dinner.
He turned to you, the rage shifting wildly within his eyes.
“I will fix this,” he said airily.
And the following afternoon, following his impromptu meeting with the Commission, within his own office he apologized to the staff for his indiscretion in revealing the intimacy of your growing personal relationship, and vowed to behave more appropriately in the public sphere.
“Going forward, I will honor my position, and your investment into this company. I will honor my commitments, and I will not disgrace you, nor your efforts to serve my selfish desires. Please accept my apology. If you do not, and wish to be parted from this business, I will do my best to understand, and respect your decision,” he said with head bowed to his advisors.
You also bent beside him, your cane biting within the palms of your hands as you held tight to it for support as you waited for their acceptance, or denial of your apology.
“We will only accept, if you truly move forward with dignity. You risk not only your public image, and your family’s hard work, Yixing. You risk our image, and our hard work. You risk the livelihood, and happiness of the people of Kunming, and of Yunnan. You have been tasked with an incredible duty. Please see to it, that you behave accordingly, and with honor as you have promised us once again,” his eight wisened advisors commanded in earnest unison.
Within their acceptance, you heard all the things you had feared, and known to be true.
Effective immediately, you were a ghost.
Unwanted.
You saw within their eyes, the pictures they had taken.
The anger in their hearts, as they drafted the official report, and mailed it to the Commission.
The immediate glacial distance between you bore a distinct atmospheric change within the office that Yixing’s staff seemed unsure whether to welcome, or question.
You arrived to the office separately each morning, and returned to your separate homes when your work was completed.
When you were in his presence, you pretended not to know what it felt like to be in those arms, or to have those same fingers in your hair signing off, and drawing up new plans for Yixing’s commitment to the Pathcodes.
A commitment he had not yet asked you to consider.
“Let me know if it ever becomes too much,” he whispered to you between chaste kisses in the elevator of his headquarter building before stepping away cleanly as the doors opened, his lips pressed into a pleasant crease as if you’d only asked him to turn around so you could adjust his tie before he was off flying to Berlin, heading to the office, or making a trip to the mining or farming sites he managed.
At first, when he also began to privately see a therapist after an initial consultation with _____ (London Reader) as part of your prior rehabilitation agreement you thought his consistent soft spoken reminder was an acknowledgement to what suffering he thought you had endured, and what he had spoken about with her, and his assigned therapist you’d yet to meet or hear anything more about.
But over the past year those words, and that phrase he would utter right before pulling away from you, felt more, and more like he was pulling the chair out from under you, and watching to see whether you were strong enough now to make it on your own independent of him.
It took everything in you to stop seeing yourself as a burden to him.
But you wondered.
You wondered when he hired a fresh group of interns, and staff to maintain the accounts you managed since your solemn apology.
“I would appreciate all of you taking the time to learn the extent of the work ______ maintained during her time here with us. I would appreciate the same level of care, and attention that ______ paid to these accounts,” you’d heard Yixing, and watched as if from behind a wall of impenetrable glass, your hands sweating, and itching as you stood before the assembly of bright eyed, hungry souls focused on the man beside you.
On the man who would lay you down again tonight.
Tonight.
“I’m willing to give up everything for you..”
“How is taking everything away from me, giving everything up for me?”
*Heated, palpable silence*
“What will there be left for me, if I’m pushed to the sidelines here?”
“What do I look like coming in to work, and supervising the work that I was meant to do?”
*Tension in his jaw*
“You have to understand baobei…”
“What is there to understand when you don’t talk to me? How am I supposed to know the plans when you don’t-”
*Living, breathing fire in his deep umber, and coffee eyes*
“Why do you want to fight? What do you want me to do? You told me it was over! You asked for this!”
“I said that we couldn’t keep seeing one another at the office. But I didn’t say that my job was over. I didn’t say that I was done working. I didn’t say I wanted out of the business. I want you to talk to me! Stop treating me like I’m damaged goods! Stop tiptoeing around me!”
“Oh?”
*Fire building in your chest, billowing, higher & hotter*
“Yixing, get out. Get out, damnit! Get OUT!”
“Don’t raise your voice when you could simply tell me what the matter is. That’s what children do…”
“Get the hell out!”
Days of silence in the sunlight.
Weeks of solitary quiet that he would be away, while you were supposed to be healing, and focusing on your health following your unfortunate accident.
Hushed apologies when he would return with flowers.
And apologies.
“I should not have said that…”
“I have so much on my mind…”
“I want to do this right…”
“We never seem to have enough time…”
But he wouldn’t stay the night.
“They’re not here Yixing. They don’t know that you’re here unless you tell them.”
You hated the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, your lips, your mouth, your cold heart.
Gasping for the air he denied you of when he disappeared to once again be on assignment, to be responsible, to be who he was before you met one another.
To continue on while you were on hold.
Because he had promised.
And you made him promise.
A whole world of possibilities open to him that you were denied privilege except when the air within you cooled, and he suddenly came willingly, and frequently, and lovingly.
“I want us to have a future. But I have to protect you. You have to understand. When you are ready, the Pathcodes could be where we begin once again. But you have to decide. I can no longer have you associated with my businesses in the way that you were before. It’s too dangerous. The Pathcodes is a new opportunity. I want to offer a different aspect of Yunnan there…and you can be instrumental in that. Together, we can create something altogether new, right _____? Right baobei?”
*Kisses, tenderness, apologies, loving. So much loving. So many promises. Blissful, unhurried union*
But in the daylight you walked to Dongfeng square alone, wandering to the vendor selling the steamed spring rolls you liked.
She prepared two cartons of juanfen the way you liked before you had to open your mouth, and ask with drool dribbling down the side of your mouth.
“Shall I make a third? He’s not coming today?” She asked, as she squinted behind you as if she could see him sprinting to catch up.
As if he’d just let you walk ahead.
You shook your head, offering her the precise amount bidding her farewell before ducking out of the smoke, and back up the walk to your office building.
You walked carefully, proud of the way you balanced the plastic cartons as you made your way back up the stairs to your office, faltering on at the door when you met eyes with Yixing leaning against your desk.
“I thought you were with the Governor?” you asked, looking at him with his arms folded across his chest in his black Valentino trench with cream detail.
He looked at the juanfen in your hands, licking his lips quickly as he moved forward towards you, his expression vacant.
Not yet.
Not here.
“There are some people here that I’d like for you to meet,” he gestured you forward with his hand, taking the piping hot juanfen from your hands, and placing it on your desk before he led you out, and down the hall to the conference room where you came face to face with two women, and one very familiar smiling face.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I am so glad to see that you’re in much better health,” one of the women said as she reached out a hand to you in greeting, coming forward as soon as you stepped into the room behind Yixing, her heels clicking across the floor as she moved towards you.
While maintaining a solid grasp on your cane with your dominant hand, you reached out to her, taking her hand in yours and giving it a firm shake as you returned her smile hesitantly.
She also stood to the side, allowing her associate _______ (Almaty Reader) to step forward and greet you in similar fashion, though she moved noiselessly.
“Hopefully this meeting will allow us to iron out the last details we need for our Christmas Gala. Minseok was insistent on planning taking place here in Yunnan instead of at the venue in Berlin where it will actually be taking place…something about Yixing being unable to leave as he was already tied up here?” The lilt at the end of her phrase suggested to you that she knew no more than you did, and you tried to hide your disappointment at the lack of insight she was able to provide.
Yixing cleared his throat, pushing aside the question ________ (Almaty reader) brought up as he held your hand much more firmly in his as he introduced Minseok once again.
“Ah, it’s wonderful to finally meet you once again ______, and thankfully in much better health. I realize that Yixing has been unable to share much with you recently, what with all the changes occurring here at the office. Please forgive us for coming up so suddenly, and not offering a warning. If you have the time, we’d love to speak with you about what we have come to call the Pathcodes. It is a venture I think we could utilize your expertise in. You have been a tremendous help to Yixing here, and he believes that you could continue that within the Pathcodes. ______ (Berlin reader), and ______ (Almaty reader) have prepared a packet for you with some options to consider. If you could please have a seat,” Minseok gestured to you, cleanly pulling you forward from Yixing’s grasp to settle into a chair you’d sat in on occasion, but now came to as if transported into an altogether new space.
His eyes were dazzling.
The fragrance of his breath inviting.
The way he spoke to you.
The way he lifted you clean away.
Up, and above.
Beyond.
To a different dimension.
To a world entirely away from the weighted fog you sifted through day in, and day out.
A world where you were no longer bound to the perimeter.
“Every day, I practiced
All the sweet sweet words
But when you look at me and smile
They all melt down, out of my memory
But nothing else is needed
When it comes to a boy and girl’s first love
With clear eyes, you whispered to me
And in that reflection, I am smiling
My heart (is white) my cheeks (are red)
Our eyes are locked (black) my sky turns (yellow)
Everything looks different
Why am I wandering through dreams every day?
Everyone has this dream at least once
Even your name makes my heart flutter, this dream called first love
I’m falling deeper and deeper, like a child who has seen the world for the first time
The unknown mystery that is you, I want to get to know one by one
Teach me what love is, only you can teach me
Slowly draw it on a white piece of paper so only I can see
Every day, it’s crazy, I will be with you, I dream baby
Love you baby baby”
- “First Love” by EXO-
“Just you and me and the kids tonight...ok?” he reminded you just before you made your way over to his flat.
The kids, you chuckled to yourself, remembering the reaction you had the first time you heard about his children.
You were taken aback at the word.
Nothing about him suggested that he was already a young father of three as he claimed.
Neither his brother Sehun nor his brothers that you met in Colorado had said anything either.
He didn’t talk about his children when he told you about his parents and sisters and their children and husbands coming to visit for his birthday.
Surely that would have been the time to do so….right?
You didn’t notice any photographs at the center of any children.
Was there something you should know?
You had so many questions and were so unsure of what to bring for your dinner at the news.
But if I freak out about it….I might make him feel awkward.
I don’t want that.
Oh no!
But if I don’t bring the right food….wouldn’t that be a problem?!
What if they have allergies?
Oh no...but I can’t ask...he’ll worry that I won’t come.
You decided to keep it simple and packed some gimbap and spicy fried chicken with a couple canisters of fresh green tea.
Jongin told you he would probably make some bulgogi and something sweet with strawberries since you really liked that fruit.
You checked and rechecked your messages for any more information you needed before you made your way to his flat.
It would be your first time visiting his flat since you knew him.
He stayed in Kennington and made sure to point out which was the best tube to take in order for you to arrive where you wanted to go.
It was short walk from the station to Black Prince Road, where his flat was in a part of Ethelred Estate and Vauxhall Gardens Conservation Area, a homey area of low-rise blocks.
As you made your way down the street, the neighbors smiled at you and nodded in your direction, curious about the small bag bumping on your hip.
You thought they could probably smell the food.
You pulled at the straps nervously as you checked your buzzing phone.
“______, I’m standing right outside so I won’t miss you,” Jongin said the moment you put the phone to your ear.
Your heartbeat was thrumming too high in your throat for you to be able to say anything back.
“Oh,” you breathed as you noticed him waving.
You waved back, tentatively putting your phone away and hurrying towards him.
He stood just outside his front gate and held his arms out to you to hug you. A new greeting you were quickly becoming fond of.
“You smell so good,” he murmured adoringly into the top of your head, making you blush.
You stepped out of his embrace to look up at him.
“It’s the food,” you breathed but he shook his head.
“It’s not just the food,” he smiled.
“Come on in,” he gestured for you to follow behind him as he led you into the building.
“I was originally on the first floor but I like the upper floors. I wanted to be able to see a little more of the scenery and look down at the garden in the morning while I have breakfast with the kids,” he explained as he led you towards the lift.
You took a shaky breath as you smiled at him.
You hoped you didn’t drop the bag you’d packed so carefully.
He led you to the door as he talked all the while about his neighbors and their families.
You tried to hear every detail over the sound of your pulse in your ears.
As he turned the knob you thought, moment of truth.
“Babies! Be good! Remember I told you that we have company for dinner tonight!” Jongin called into the doorway the moment he entered.
You followed hesitantly behind him and heard a sudden chorus of barking.
Jongin laughed as the three pups jumped up to greet you.
He took the bag of food from you and carefully placed it on the counter before coming back to you.
He laughed at the stunned, but pleasant look on your face as you reached to touch each one of the puppies.
“Yah! That’s not how we greet our guest. Come sit down first or they won’t let you,” he gestured for you to take his hand so he could lead you to the couch.
It was such a clean space with so many puppies surrounding him.
You couldn’t help your curiosity and stole glances of the kitchen and living room area.
On the walls were two illustrations you recognized the moment that you saw them.
Jongin showed you a couple videos once while you were on a break when he was still in training.
The words of each song moved you so deeply that you excused yourself to go get some tissues before returning to him.
When ________ (Sehun’s girlfriend) asked if anyone had any ideas for birthday gifts, you suggested two drawings in his likeness based on the topics of each song.
While they were both ballads, their topics contrasted.
The first a mournful folktale, telling the story of a man so in love with a woman who was so in love with someone else. It was the age old story of the Little Mermaid that you’d never heard.
And yet the other ballad, told the story of a man promising a woman that no matter what came in the future, they could whether the storm and he was a better man for her love.
Kyungsoo’s wife had done the two illustrations, framing the lyrics beside them in another panel in a glass case.
Seeing them hung proudly in Jongin’s living room was all the evidence that you needed that he appreciated the gift dearly.
He had no idea that it was you had come up with the idea. Everyone had presented it as a group present and gave individual presents if they were able.
You gave Jongin plenty of woolen sweaters, socks and mittens you’d darned yourself during the time that he had been away.
You meant to make one for his brothers too but stopped yourself.
Maybe if we all become closer….then I won’t feel so awkward about that.
You explained to him as he opened his gifts after a session with your students, that the students had helped you choose the colors and the type of wool.
The glow in his eyes was indescribable as he listened to you.
He was wearing one of the sweaters now, the material and fit looked like it was made for him.
He sat you down beside him and was just about to pat his legs when he asked you, “you’re not scared of dogs right?”
You shook your head.
He nodded as if that’s what he had hoped to hear and patted his legs inviting the pups into his lap.
You loved the way his hair shook this way and that as he moved his head.
The way it cascaded over his eyes and kept having to push it back or give a slight toss of his head, to clear his vision.
It looked so silky to the touch.
You both spent a couple moments letting each of the puppies go back and forth between you, laughing at their excited yelps when you would kiss the tops of their heads.
“They are so pretty and soft, what are their names? Are they all toy poodles? Who watches them while you’re away? They can’t just stay home by themselves all day?” You asked and he shook his head laughing.
“No no….there’s an older woman in the building who I’ve asked to look in on them since she is retired. I have dinner with her and her husband sometimes. They knew my parents when I was a child and they look after me while I’m here and my children too now. And I thought that Monggu was a poodle but he isn’t and that’s my oldest boy….” Jongin smiled at pup with the darker caramel coat as he kissed him affectionately.
Monggu flopped down across his lap, not moving until Jongin scratched him behind the ears.
“Jjanggu, is my middle child and he is a toy poodle,” Jongin gestured to Jjanggu whose ears pricked up at his dad’s voice.
You laughed as the lightly cinnamon color coated pup smushed himself between the two of you.
“And my baby girl is Jjangah, the one who keeps giving you kisses,” Jongin smiled at you, his eyes creasing cutely.
The cream white pup kissed you once more before hopping off the couch and scurrying away down the hall.
“She’ll be back,” Jongin said as Mongggu followed her.
Jjanggu lifted his head to watch them go before placing it back down on the couch.
Looking at him at this angle, you wondered if he could possible be a poodle terrier mix but you couldn’t be sure.
“So….are these the kids you were talking about?” You asked as you watched him check the bulgogi’s temperature after washing his hands.
“Yes….? Who else…?” Jongin asked as he turned to look at you in surprise.
Realization broke across his face and he guffawed brazenly.
Even though it was at your expense, you loved the sound it made. How it bounced off the walls.
“Yea these are my kids...I’m sorry...I know not everyone calls their pets their kids….but they are mine. The only ones I have for now…” He continued to chuckle as he brought the serving trays of bulgogi that he made to his small dinner table.
You washed your hands and helped bring your offerings as well.
“I was hoping we could have had a New Year’s Eve celebration or some kind of party….me and my brothers….we always watched the fireworks together in the past,” Jongin sighed as you came to sit at the dinner table after washing your hands once more.
His eldest and youngest children murmured and nipped at his legs and he blew kisses down at them.
“I put your dinner in your bowls already. She is my guest and so I’m feeding her now. Be polite,” he said to them and they sat for a moment before going to their plates in the hall.
You looked at the glass screen door just beyond his head at the fading light of day.
“I wish I had known...maybe we could have gotten some fireworks….” you said but he shook his head, grinning happily.
“I got us some sparklers!” He announced gleefully.
“I haven’t seen sparklers in so long!” You exclaimed happily and his grin grew even bigger, his laughter imminent.
“After dinner then! We have to!” He said and you both turned your attention to your meal.
Jongin had made fresh rice as well as lettuce for the bulgogi and told you to not be shy about getting second and third helpings since he planned to.
He must have forgotten himself while he was eating the spicy fried chicken you prepared.
His moans had all three of his children pricking their ears up and whining in concerned tones.
“I’m alright,” Jongin laughed after a moment, blushing as he tried to avoid your eyes.
“It’s good then? The chicken?” You asked, laughing quietly at how much more he blushed.
He enjoyed the gimbap too, telling you that you had to make these for the company luncheon.
You promised that you would.
You talked for a short while about work as well. About the classes you were taking now that you’d been accepted to Goldsmiths and the clients you were managing at both of the clinics.
“_________ (Yixing’s girlfriend) and I had a very good session last week. She said that she is still trying to adjust to having Yixing back in her life in this new way….I kind of want to have a joint session with the two of them you know? Couples therapy. I think she really needs to continue to work with me but I think it would help her if Yixing was seeing someone as well….” you let your voice trail off as you looked at him.
Jongin had served you the dessert, strawberry bingsu, an assortment of sweetened condensed milk, fruit syrup, strawberries, kiwifruit, and bananas, small pieces of tteok (rice cake), chewy jelly bits, and cereal flakes topped with ice cream or frozen yogurt.
“Since I didn’t get you a birthday cake,” he whispered coyly as he offered you your dessert bowl.
“This is so delicious,” you said as you followed him to the couch where you sat side by side enjoying the dessert.
Since it was a little bit cooler Jongin turned on his space heater and you unconsciously snuggled closer, taking care not to drip any of the ice cream or toppings on his corduroy couch.
He finished first and waited until you were done so he could welcome the kids back into his lap.
“Would you like to listen to some music while we rest a little?” He asked and you nodded, curious about what he would put on.
“We….my brothers and I...well you know some of us play some instruments...we kind of got together once and this is what we came up with. It’s a CD mix so there’s a lot of different songs on here that we like...different songs that remind us of each other. We all have one. Before we went our separate ways for work or school we did this together. It was Chanyeol’s idea...and this song is one of my favorites. I played it for you before..it’s the song I used for my showcase. It’s for this illustration,” he said as he tapped the wall where the illustration of him in his formal showcase wear, a deep red color to symbolize the red string of fate tying him and his love interest tightly together, making them stronger.
As you cuddled with Jjangah, curling your fingers into her coat and scratching her behind her ears listening to her soft puffs as she dozed, you saw in your mind’s eye Jongin and his female partner in a pure white dress, her costume meant to symbolize the hope both the man and the woman he loved felt because of their enduring union.
To add in that element to the painting, you’d asked ______ (Kyungsoo’s wife) to add in a white spotlight, and have Jongin reaching upwards or arching himself upwards to the white light with a satisfied expression on his face reminiscent of the smile he wore as the song closed.
Those details swirled and swirled in your mind as you listened to Jongin hum along while he cuddled Monggu and you didn’t realize you’d dozed off until you felt Jjangah struggling to get out of your arms.
Jongin had thrown a quilt over you and tucked it in around you which you noticed as soon as you woke.
It smelled like his bath soap and cologne and like it had been freshly washed.
“Jongin?” You called, noticing that he had turned the lights down and lit some candles.
Jjangah had scurried off down the hall, barking as you heard the toilet flush suddenly and Jongin appeared.
“What is it baby girl? Is she awake?” He asked her, leaning down to rub her head.
You cleared your throat, rising and folding the blanket quickly as Jongin returned.
He had stopped to grab the sparkler packet from the countertop and reached for your hand leading you to his small balcony where he kept some flowers.
After allowing you to choose a sparkler he lit yours for you and you both waved them around, entertaining Jongin’s kids for a little while before you sat quietly facing each other in his wicker outdoor chairs.
“________,” Jongin called to you quietly after you finally let your sparkler burn out.
You kind of wanted to grab another but the look in his eyes made you stop.
He reached for your hand and you let him take it and hold it between his own.
He rubbed the skin of your palms with his thumbs, dragging the pad of his thumbs gently across your skin over and over.
It was slowly becoming rousing which made you flush and pull your hands away.
Jongin winced apologizing immediately.
“No it’s...it’s ok...I just...I…” you shook your head as you looked at him.
It felt like even the stars were too loud.
Everything was screaming inside of you to say something.
Say something about how you were feeling.
“When you told me….when you thanked me for helping you….when we’ve….when we’ve been spending all of this time together….was there ever a moment where you thought….well...what do you think of me…?” Jongin asked, his tone uncertain and yet lighthearted.
You took in a shallow gulp of air.
“You’re someone I trust. You’re someone I admire...you’re someone I want to spend my days with...I can’t wait to see you...I can’t wait to hear from you...I can’t wait to be with you...to be near you….you never allow yourself to hope that one day you’ll just spontaneously meet someone and then it’ll just….you’ll just click….but something tells me that this wasn’t spontaneous..that something had to happen in order for me to meet you…” You said watching the buoyant light in Jongin’s eyes growing. They were luminous.
“I….I used to be so embarrassed when I thought about the kind of person I was when I first met you...how timid I was and shy...although I can definitely still be like that now,” you giggled hearing Jongin giggle too.
“But...then I think about how you accepted me….and you helped me to get past it….and….” you looked inside the doors, feeling the warmth of his home swirling around you before it mixed with the cool night air.
“When I think about the illustration...the second one...I think about the red string of fate the joy and the hope on your face….and I want to see that always. I want you to be happy like that always….I want...I want to be one of the reasons you look that way….” you had slowly allowed your gaze to drift from his eyes as your voice lowered until it was barely over a whisper.
And as your voice trailed off, you saw Jongin’s open hands reaching for yours.
You looked up as he brought his hands whose fingers he’d intertwined with yours up to his mouth, kissing the backs of your hands tenderly.
His eyes were impassionately gazing back into yours.
“That’s all I could ever hope for...that I make you smile and give you joy the way you’ve done for me. I like the way we compliment each other….I like the way we help each other….I like the way we work together….you have no idea…” his voice faltered slightly.
You were confused at his sudden display of emotion.
“You have no idea how much I have wanted to know. I was unsure. I was so unsure. I thought…. ‘No Jongin you’re letting it go to your head. You’re just coworkers...nothing more. Nothing less..she’ll move on once she goes to Goldsmiths. Maybe you’ll stay friends...maybe…,’” he stopped speaking to clear his throat so he could continue on uninhibited.
“I…” You tightened your grip on his hands.
“I wondered too...I was so nervous. I was so unsure...I told you that I admired you. I told you that I cared for you. That I wanted to help...and I didn’t know….I didn’t know that all this time…” you sighed as he kissed the back of your hands again, letting his lips linger there.
An electric shock went through you as you felt his lips against you, as you watched him, the ardent burning of his cheeks.
“Jongin….” You felt like you’d finally entered his space. That you were finally right beside him as you never knew that you’d always wanted to be.
“Jongin….” You sighed once more as he opened his eyes, his grip on your hands loosening as you scooted forward in your chair until the caps of your knees touched his.
He seemed to be in a state of disbelief and yet fervent anticipation.
“_______,” he breathed as he let go of your hands and leaned forward as you did until your noses touched.
You resisted the urge to pull away shyly and felt him trying to resist a similar inkling as he brought his open palms to your cheeks.
He moved his face just slightly away from yours so he could look into your eyes.
“I’ve always wanted to see the color of your eyes up close…” He whispered.
“Wh-what?” You asked and he giggled quietly before he went on.
“Your eyes...I felt like I could never see their color properly because you were always looking away from me. And now...now I can see and they are so gorgeous….you are so beautiful….” he whispered and you felt yourself trembling at his words. You were crying.
“I think you’re beautiful too….” Your voice was dulcet, mumuring and hushed as he pressed his lips against yours. Once, twice, thrice.
Again.
Again.
Again.
More.
Until you both couldn’t breath and had to separate.
Jongin couldn’t face you properly for a moment, he seemed to be catching his breath as were you.
“Jongin...I care about you so much….this friendship...this relationship...you...you mean so much to me…” you said to him and he nodded, wiping his cheeks clear of tears as he looked up at you.
He reached for the tears still escaping your eyes and caught them with his thumbs.
“________, you mean so much to me...and that makes me so happy that I mean so much to you….” He smiled leaning forward to kiss your forehead and nose.
You felt a rush of sensation as he pulled away.
“What would you think about…” You nodded animatedly before he could finish, and he laughed and laughed before leaning forward to kiss you again.
