They keep having sex and they don't talk about it. Of course they don't. They are Lovro and Domen, two of the most socially awkward people on earth. At first, Domen wanted to talk about it. He figured it was the reasonable thing to do when Domen woke up with his head buried in the creek of Lovro's neck and with the other one's arms wrapped around him. But when Lovro eventually woke up and pressed a short kiss on his lips, he was speechless. Then Lovro just went on with his normal morning routine. As if they didn't have sex the night before. So, Domen did what he could do best, he ignored it, too.
The team had to do press after the world championship where both Lovro and him behaved as if nothing happened. When they ended up back in a hotel room together in Oslo, Domen was sure it was a onetime thing that they would keep under the wraps for the rest of their lives. (He still bought a box of condoms. Just in case.)
But then after dinner, Lovro changed out of his team shirt and Domen couldn't help but stare at his teammate. Still sensing the way his skin felt under his fingers. Lovro noticed his glances almost immediately and raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you down for a repeat?” Domen thought about it for two whole seconds before he stood up from the bed and pinned Lovro against the wall. They waste no time and their mouths collide almost instantly.
From then on, they sleep with each other regularly. When one of them had a good jump, when one of them had a bad jump. Their shoulders touch when brushing their teeth and they end up in bed together. At some point, they even shower together because they slept in and wanted to save time. Not that it worked because showering can lead to other things pretty fast. When they are not in the hotel room, they act if nothing happens and it works surprisingly well. At least that is what he thought.
“Do you fancy going to the sauna?”, Anze speaks up when they get back from the hill on Friday. They are in Lahti that weekend. The second last competition weekend of the season. Always a bittersweet feeling. The desperately needed vacation is around the corner, but he loves ski jumping and no competitions mean less jumping in the first months in the offseason.
”You want to go to the sauna? Don't you hate saunas?”
The older teammate just shrugs. Anze and he are the last ones left at the hill. The first car was full and both of them volunteered to stay behind and wait till the second run. “I don't hate them. I am just not doing them very often. But we are in Finland, if not here, where else would I go to the sauna?”
Domen can't help but eye up his teammate. He looks sincere, so Domen nods. “Sure. I wanted to go anyway.” That is a lie. Actually, he had hoped to catch a few undisturbed hours with Lovro, but he couldn't say that.
Domen is first to arrive in the spa area of their hotel. It's a nice wellness center. Calming noises are coming out of a speaker in the ceiling, lots of green plants are standing around. He removes the robe and slings a towel around his waist and sits down at one of the benches in the changing area. Anze is stepping into the spa at that moment. Seemingly uncomfortable, already wearing just his towel. See Domen knows that Anze never goes to the sauna. But why on earth did he lie? “Ready?”, the older one questions, putting on a brave face.
“Sure.” Domen leads them into one of the empty saunas and starts the infusion. He can tell from Anze’s frowned forehead that he already hates the heat.
“So, what do you want? If you tell me now, we can get over with this and you can go back to your room.” He sits next to the older one and scans his face.
Anze looks at Domen. Scanning his body. If he didn't know it better, he would think that Anze was checking him out. “You have been weird, and I am trying to figure it out. I have already crossed off family feud and form issues. Now, I can fully remove eating disorders from the list, too.”
"What? You thought I had an ED?” Domen shakes his head. He knows exactly why he is behaving weirdly. Even if he didn't think anyone had noticed. But that Anze really got so far to think he might have an eating disorder, or something makes him think he really isn't a good pretender.
“Well not really, but you know it's always a possibility for ski jumpers. But considering you have a massive hickey on your hip, I think I finally figured out what is going on.”
Domen can't help but look down onto his hip. He would kill Lovro. Domen's mouth forms a big O. “It is a bruise, not a hickey.”, he tries to save himself.
Anze throws his head back and starts to laugh. "Sure, Domen. Whatever you say. But we both know it's a hickey. So, who is the lucky one? When do I get to meet them?”
For a moment, Domen is stunned that Anze does not assume he is together with a woman. That he stated it neutral. His brothers always press over girlfriends but never have even considered a boyfriend. But he should have known better. His teammate is observant and more considerate than most people he meets. “There is nobody to meet.” It is a safe answer he almost immediately regrets. He yearns to speak about Lovro with someone. Their shared teammate isn't the right fit, though.
“Ok then I will ask Lovro he has to know. You guys are so… so close. Oh my god, Domen. It's Lovro, isn't it?” He can see the exact moment Anze realizes it. His eyes get big and he leans forward.
Domen is sharply inhaling the hot air around him. “No point in denying it now.”
“Oh my god. You and Lovro? How? When? What?”
Domen just shrugs and thinks about how to answer all of his teammates' questions. Then he starts rambling. “I mean, it sort of just happened. After I won the championship, he looked at me so admirably and he said stuff I am still not over. I mean, personal space is non-existing between us anyways but then we just started to kiss, which I did not expect. And then we did more.”
“And still doing it, I assume”, Anze interrupts and gestures onto his hip.
Domen runs a hand over his face, which is bright red. He wants to believe it's the heat of the sauna. “I mean, yes. At first, I thought it was a one-time thing but then we were in Oslo and suddenly we did it again and again and again.”
Anze frowns in slight disgust. “Too much detail. I don't need to know how often you have sex Domen. Really not. So, you two are together now?”
“It's bad, I know. But we don't talk about it. Like ever. At first, I wanted to, but he glossed over it and then the timing felt never right.” Because every time they are alone, they sleep together.
“So, it's just sex. Are you okay with this?” That is the thing. The sex is great. More than great, but he wants to at least acknowledge that it is happening. If he is completely honest, then he would want more than sex. Lovro is such a good human. He loves spending time with him. Lovro is one of the only people who is able to make him laugh. Like really laugh. So why not try out more? The sex part is clearly working, and they have been great roommates. Domen lets his head fall back.
“Judging by your face, I don't think it's enough. So why not talk to him? I am sure he is interested. You said he looked at you differently, that he talked good about you. Why not try it?”
“Have you met me? I am the worst person with stuff like this. Just second to Lovro.”
Anze pats his shoulder and stands up. “Maybe you just have to go for it. That you are both so direct in communication could be a good thing. And now I really have to leave this place. It is too hot in here.”
Domen laughs out loud. “I knew you hated saunas.”
The sauna did nothing to relax him, Domen realizes when he steps back into his room. But how could it be with the conversation he just had. He can hear the shower running. Lovro is still here and not already at the game night Timi, Zak and he planned. For a second, he thinks about joining him, but then they definitely wouldn't talk. He lets himself fall onto the double bed. How should he even start the conversation? His thoughts come to a halt when the constant sound of the shower stops. Domen swallows hard. Here goes nothing.
Lovro steps out of the bathroom. Still wet and completely naked. Domen can't help himself and admires his colleague? Sex partner? Friend? Lovro smirks when he notices the gaze on him. “Sadly, this has to wait until I am back from Timis. How was the sauna with Anze?”
Domen watches as Lovro dries his hair with a small towel. “He knows.”
Lovro pauses in the middle of his movement. “Knows what?”
“About this. About us. You gave me this massive hickey, and you know I am a bad liar.” Domen rolls his eyes and gestures between them.
“Oh.”, is the only thing that comes from Lovro.
Domen stands up and steps in front of his teammate. "Yes, oh."
“I mean, he won't be going around and start telling on us, so it will probably be fine.” Sometimes he hates Lovro because what is this answer? He can't help but run his hand through his hair. Lovro grabs the hand and pulls him against his naked body. “Relax Domen. Do you want to come to game night?”
Domen can feel Lovros heat. He was also barely clothed in his bathrobe. One move, and they would both be naked. “No, I don't want to come to game night. I want to talk about all of this. What is this? What the hell are we doing?”
“Having sex?” Domen tries to breathe in and resist the urge to shake Lovro.
“I - God. This was a bad idea.”, he frees himself from Lovro and sits down on the bed. With his head in his hands, he counts down from ten to calm himself down.
Lovro breathes in sharply. “Sorry, I - I didn't want to push you or anything. I just thought you might want it, too. I didn't realize you are regretting it. If you want me to, I can change rooms.” Lovro speaks so quickly that Domen has trouble understanding him.
He looks up to see his teammate going through his hair roughly. Lovro doesn't look at Domen. “I didn't mean it like that. Of course, I want it too, but I can't sleep with you and thirty minutes later, we act like nothing is happening because something is definitely happening.” Domen rises from the bed and with one step, he is in front of Lovro. He gently puts his hands to Lovro's cheeks and forces the other one to look at him. “I like sleeping with you, Lovro. I really do. Maybe even too much. But I need to know if this is just sex. Because in Trondheim, you said some stuff that still makes me blush when I think about it.” It's not really a confession, but it is something close to it. Domen is toeing the line, and he knows it. He can spot the exact moment where Lovro realizes it, too. The eyes are getting bigger, the breath hitches.
“There is an option for more than sex for you? With me?”
Domen can't help but smirk. “I am not the type to sleep around Lovro and you know that. I didn't even carry condoms around before we happened. Ever since the second we kissed, there was the option for more, but I didn't think you wanted that. You never talked about all of this and you never gave me the chance to talk about it because every time I wanted to bring the subject up, you seduced me.”
“I seduced you? You are the one who looks at me like you want to tear my clothes off every chance you get. Even on the hill.”
Domen shrugs and leans his forehead against Lovros. Sometimes, both of them are so stupid. If they just talked right away, they could have been together since the beginning. “Because I do want to rip your clothes off of you every chance I get, but that is not the point. I want to be with you. Really be with you.” Maybe he just blew the best thing he had in years. Being with Lovro made him feel as alive as ski jumping. Maybe even more. He never felt this with another person.
“You are ski jumping royalty. You are Domen Prevc. The World Champion. How can I be enough for you?”
Domen can't help but roll his eyes. “Come on, Lovro, you are so much better than me. There is a reason why all our teammates like you more than me. You are such a beautiful person inside and out. You are funny and caring. And okay, maybe you are not the best at communicating, but we both suck at that. We can try to get better at it together."
With his thumb, Domen strokes Lovro's jaw. The slightly younger one leans into the touch. "Okay, let's try. Let us try to be together.” The smile on Domen's face widens and he can't help himself and kisses Lovro. Lovro's hands wander to Domen's waist and pull him even closer. This kiss feels different. Better. He can feel Lovros smile against his lips. Both of them breathe heavily when they part.
“I am so sorry, but I think I have to go to game night now. Otherwise, Timi will come and tear this door down. You should really come with me, tho.” Domen shakes his head. Typical Lovro, but that is why he likes him so much. Honest to a tea.
“Yeah sure, I didn't want to ruin your evening plans with all of this.”
Lovro grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers. “But I do want to spend the evening with my boyfriend, so you have to come with me.”
“Do I have to?”, Domen replies.
His boyfriend nods almost immediately. “Yes, you have to. I want to tell you a little secret, okay? Our teammates don't like me more than they like you. I just make an effort and that's why I am more included than you feel. I spent time with them. I listen to their problems. It is not like they don't want you around, you just feel like they don’t, but I guarantee you that if you come with me to Timis room he will be happy.” For his whole time in the World Cup, he always felt like an outsider in his team. In the early days, he was just so much younger than the other guys. Also, he was Peter's little brother. Then, when the guys his age, like Lovro and Timi, came up into the World Cup team, he was already settled in. He couldn't relate to them and they had each other. Only Lovro broke through his shell. Annoyingly persistent, he won him over.
“If you say so, but if Timi or Zak are weird, I will leave after two rounds of UNO.”
“Deal, then we will leave.” Domen wants to protest. Lovro doesn't need to leave because Domen feels overstimulated playing cards with his teammates. But the other one plants a kiss on Domen's forehead.
"It's okay. If you really think that I would rather spend the evening with Timi and Zak than with you, then you are so wrong.”
He rolls his eyes but nods slowly. “Okay then. But I think we probably should put on some clothes before we leave.” To prove his point, Domen lightly slaps Lovro's bare ass, who giggles.
“Smarty-pants.”
Timi and Zak's room is just two doors down the hall. Domen barely closed their door when Lovro is ready to knock. “Wait, I have an operational question.”, Domen stops his boyfriend. It still feels unreal to think that. “What do we do? Do we tell them? Are we acting like we have been the last couple of weeks?”
Lovro lowers his hand from the door and turns to Domen. He puts one arm around Domen's torso and pulls him against his chest. “Whatever you feel comfortable with. I like sneaking around and I wouldn't mind doing it for a while, but I also want to tell every single person that I managed to seduce you.”
“I thought I seduced you?” Domen can feel Lovro's fingers wandering under the hem of his shirt. He gets goosebumps almost instantaneously.
“I think we are both good at that.” Domen bites his lip. Telling people feels big, but on the other hand, he is tired of not being himself. And being with Lovro makes him feel more like himself than he has in a long time.
“If you are really okay with it, I wouldn't mind telling our teammates. Outside of the team might be a little too overwhelming, but they can know.” The biggest smile appears on Lovro's face. He grabs Domen's hand and pulls him towards the door. Without hesitation, he knocks.
If Zak is surprised to see Domen behind Lovro, he doesn't show it. "Hey guys. We almost got worried. What took you so long?” They are still holding hands when Lovro leads him into the almost identical room to theirs. It is just a bit cleaner.
“Sorry we had some stuff to talk about.”, Lovro answers honestly. Timi is already sitting on the floor, shuffling the UNO cards when he looks up to greet them. When he sees their hands and opens his mouth before closing it again, Domen can't help but blush. Zak, who now notices as well and exchanges a quick look with his roommate. Lovro being Lovro is totally unfazed about the look. He just sits down and pulls Domen with him. They sit close. Their knees are touching, and their hands are in Lovro's lap.
“What is going on?” Timi is the braver of the two and gathers the courage to ask. Zak, who is still standing next to the door, nods in agreement. Domen's cheeks are getting redder and redder each second.
“You better get used to it because I don't plan on stopping.”, Lovro says. As a demonstration, he puts his free hand on Domen's jaw and turns his head so that he can press a short kiss on his lips.
“What the hell?”
Domen can't help but chuckle. Typical Lovro. “Come on, this has been going on for weeks. Don't say you had no clue, Timi.”, his boyfriend teases their teammate.
“I didn't. Did you?”, Timi turns to his teammate, who shakes his head.
Stephan Leyhe/Andreas Wellinger - "Quiet of the night." (fic)
well well well. what do we have here.
right after welle won the first four hills comp in oberstdorf this season i wrote like a thousand words, then completely forgot about it. i just discovered it again and in a lovely case of hyperfixation wrote the rest of it in about an hour, so do with that what you will. better late than never, right?
so as for the timeline, this takes place after andi won the first comp of the 23/24 four hills tournament. for the sake of plot they’re not roommates in this (although we all know they always share, but let’s just pretend they all got single rooms for the tour). even though it’s a rather quick and short one at 2.2k, i hope you guys enjoy it. as always, i’d love to know what you think and appreciate any kind of feedback <3
Knock Knock.
Stephan turns over in his bed towards the door, sheets tangling with his legs. The room is pitch black when he blinks sleepily, eyes protesting the unscheduled awakening. There’s someone knocking at his door, which isn’t an uncommon occurrence in the team hotel during the tour because someone always wants something, except it’s two at night and they only went to bed like two and a half hours ago. Stephan‘s brain is still muddled with sleep after the adrenaline crash that inevitably always follows a competition, especially one as electrifying as yesterday‘s. So, what on earth-
There‘s a third knock and Stephan squints at the door as someone gently pushes it open, causing a sliver of light from the hallway to spill into the darkness of his room. He can barely make out a silhouette when there‘s a whisper- “Stephan? Are you awake?”
Andreas.
Stephan sits up abruptly, every last trace of sleep gone. “Yeah,” he whispers back, which isn’t true at all given that Andi quite literally just woke him up but he’d rather fling himself off a hill than tell the younger that. It’s not like he minds, anyway, he’s got an open ear for all of his teammates, although maybe it’s a bit different where Andi is concerned. Stephan tries not to think about it.
Andi tiptoes into the room and closes the door behind him. Darkness falls back around them and for a long moment neither of them moves. Stephan looks in Andi’s general direction and waits for him to offer some kind of explanation, to start talking the way he always does without paying any mind to time, company or circumstances. After a full minute goes by without a sound Stephan starts to grow increasingly concerned. “Andi?,” he prompts gently, eyes searching the darkness for any kind of movement.
“Yeah, uh, sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up, it’s late, we’ve got training today and it’s stupid anyways, I’ll just-“
“Don’t you dare open that door, Andreas. It’s the middle of the night, what’s wrong?” Stephan hears Andi shift on his feet followed by the faint click of the door handle being released. The silence returns as the questions hangs between them, unanswered. Despite the odd situation, Stephan smiles quietly to himself.
“Stop biting your lip, Andi. It’s gonna be all raw and red on camera tomorrow.”
He hears Andi sputter over where he’s still standing by the goddamn door. “I’m not! It’s pitch-black in here, Stephan, you can’t even see me! How would you know that?”
Because I spend most of my time watching you. Because I could paint your face in a thousand different ways if I had just an ounce of talent.
“Because you always bite your lips bloody when something’s bothering you. Now come on over here and tell me what’s wrong, please.” Stephan sits up straighter as he hears Andi shuffle through the room, leaning against the headboard. The mattress dips beneath him as Andi sits down on the edge of the bed next to his stretched-out legs, which isn’t as close as Stephan would like him, but it’s better than the other side of the room.
He figures this is the moment they should turn on the lamp on his bedside table since they still can’t fucking see, but something about Andi’s behaviour stops him. This isn’t like the younger at all; to be so caught up in his thoughts and feelings that it drives him out of bed in the middle of the night. Maybe it’s got something to do with how young Andi was when he started into the whole world cup circus, but Stephan has always admired how good his teammate seemed to be at compartmentalizing. One problem after the other, brain turned off periodically to rest, then switched back on to work out the issues at maximum capacity and all of that with endless optimism and a quick smile.
So yeah, the more Stephan thinks about it, the more alarming he finds this entire situation. The least he can do is offer Andi the courtesy of keeping the lights off.
Not that it helps much. He can feel the tension in Andi’s body, every muscle coiled as if he’s preparing to make another jump from the hill. Stephan bends his knees a little, tucking them closer to his body in a silent offer for Andi to lean against them. He takes a deep breath and tries to prompt the younger into talking with an easy question.
“Did you sleep at all?”
Andi sighs. “Uh, not really. I think. Kinda been dozing on and off since we all went to bed but…time hasn’t really felt real tonight anyways. That’s so weird don’t you think?”
“What is?” Stephan’s eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to make out Andi’s face turned in his direction to look at him, eyes way too wide and awake for this time of night.
“This! Me waking you up at this godawful hour just because, what? I won a competition? Been there done that, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. And yet here I am and my body just doesn’t- it doesn’t-“
Andi cuts himself off with a frustrated sound, dropping his head into his hands and pulling at his hair. “My brain’s not shutting up, Stephan. It wasn’t like that after Lake Placid last season, right? What’s different now?” He’s desperate for an answer, voice breaking on the last word.
Stephan’s heart breaks a little, too, because Andi sounds tired. Utterly tired; the kind of exhaustion that creeps up on you after an entire evening of adrenaline and endorphins and riding the high of a victory. He puts a hand on Andi’s shoulder and just leaves it there, applying a bit of pressure to let the younger know he’s here. His heart breaks a bit more when Andi leans into the touch, instinctively chasing the comfort. “What’s different, Stephan?” Andi repeats quietly. “This wasn’t my first win since- since everything, and it’s not like it came out of nowhere. It’s been building up for a while, right? I’ve been doing great so far, I feel good, I-“ He stops for a second before dropping his gaze to the ground. “I think I’m scared.”
There it is. Stephan has started to rub soothing circles into Andi’s shoulder and back while the younger was clearly working something out. If there’s one thing Stephan’s learned in all the years he’s spent with Andi, then it’s that sometimes he just needed to rant. They’re different that way, Stephan supposes. Whereas he himself tends to work things out in the relative peace of his mind, Andi needs to voice his concerns. Contact, feedback, the weight of spoken words in a space to be able to see clearly. And if he needs to do that at two in the morning, then so God help him Stephan will be the one that listens.
“What are you scared of, love?” Stephan asks softly. Andi scoffs.
“I don’t know. Messing up? Disappointing everyone? It’s like…it’s like this victory comes with a price tag, you know? With conditions. The last few years nobody expected anything. I was the Olympic champion with the tragic injury, so getting back on track was the only task I had and nobody cared when I messed up. Every good jump was a bonus. But now people keep saying I’m back and then I went ahead and won the first comp of the tournament and now-“
“-now everyone expects you to win the rest as well.”
Andi deflates the second Stephan speaks the words out loud. His head drops forward, messy hair tickling Stephan’s arm. The older carefully moves his hand from Andi’s shoulder to his scalp, gently carding his fingers through the unruly strands. “I don’t know if I can do it,” Andi whispers after a few seconds of silence and lifts his head to look right at Stephan, eyes desperately searching for answers. Stephan holds his gaze.
“Listen, Andi. You don’t owe anyone anything – not the fans, not our coaches, not us. The only thing you owe yourself is to enjoy competitions like yesterday’s since you went so long without them despite always trying your fucking best. What you do is enough, Andreas. Every jump you pour your heart and soul into is enough, no matter where you rank in the end. This victory isn’t worth more than the one in Lake Placid just because it’s got Four Hills written all over it, alright? You could’ve given up long before you ever reached where you’re at today, but you never did. That alone matters more than whatever happens in the next few days. Because I know for a fact that you will fight for every point and if that’s not enough, then that’s not on you. I believe in you and so do the team and the fans and whoever measures your talent and worth by whether you win this damn tournament or not can go fuck right off.”
He inhales sharply after his monologue, which was admittedly longer than he’d planned. Andi stares at him, eyes wide and mouth open.
“Uh, so” Stephan finishes eloquently. “You know. Don’t worry too much.” He shuts his eyes briefly, cringing at himself internally. Way to ruin this, Stephan. You’re doing fantastic.
He looks back up when Andi snorts and dissolves into quiet laughter. He can feel a smile fighting its way onto his own lips because honestly, no one is immune to the sound of Andi Wellinger’s joy. It’s even sweeter when Stephan’s the reason for it.
Andi’s voice is breathless when he teases Stephan. “You say all that and end it with ‘don’t worry too much’? Really?”
“Well excuse me,” Stephan retorts, untangling his hand from Andi’s hair to put it on his own chest in mock offense. “I apologise for running out of sensible things to say in the middle of the night. If you’d like to register a complaint, I’m gonna have to ask you to do it at a reasonable hour.”
Andi giggles again, wiping his eyes with his hands. He looks back at Stephan then, tilting his head in such an adorable way that Stephan’s heart skips a beat or three. The silence stretches on for a while, the mood turning serious once more as Stephan practically sees Andi going over his words in his head.
One of us is gonna have to say something because if it gets any quieter, he’ll hear how loud my heart is beating.
Yet Stephan doesn’t break the fragile silence. Andi doesn’t, either. Instead, the younger shifts, turning to face Stephan properly with one leg folded under him while the other hangs off the bed, and pulls the older forward into a hug.
Oh.
Stephan wraps his arms around Andi’s waist instinctively because that’s just what his body is wired to do at this point. They’re usually in an outrun when this happens, but right now, as Andi is tightening his arms around Stephan’s shoulders and hiding his face in the older’s neck, Stephan would gladly never see an outrun again if it meant he could stay right here for the rest of his life.
They hug in a way that’s only really acceptable in the tranquility of the night, when the sole witness is the moon and the darkness swallows the thoughts of any consequences a touch like this might have. Time passes and while Stephan doesn’t know if it’s seconds or minutes or hours, he never eases the pressure around Andi’s slim waist. He’s unconsciously started to rub circles into the dip of it with his thumb and he doesn’t stop when he notices. Andi’s breathing is quiet and steady against the side of his neck. Stephan can’t help but smile when the tension finally bleeds out of the younger’s body.
“Did you mean it?” Andi asks after a while, voice little more than a whisper. “What exactly?” Stephan whispers back just as softly, tucking the other impossibly closer. Andi makes the transition with ease, laying almost entirely on top of Stephan, face still hidden against his shoulder. “Everything. That I owe my victories to no one but myself. That you-,” he clears his throat, a bit awkwardly. “That you believe in me?”
It comes out like a question and something in Stephan’s chest cracks a little when he hears it. Impulsively, he turns his head to press a soft kiss into Andi’s hair. “Of course I do, love. Never stopped. And I always will, no matter how the tour ends.”
Andi exhales then, a bit shakily but Stephan can feel him settle. He removes one arm from around Stephan to search for Stephan’s hand in the dark and holds on tight when he finds it. Stephan squeezes back, interlacing their fingers. Through it he takes everything Andi gives him; all the doubts and thoughts and uncertainty that overwhelm Andi’s infinite optimism only in the shadows of the night. Stephan knows that when the sun rises in a few hours, it’ll be like the clouds in Andi’s head never existed at all, because that’s just how he works. Stephan wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
Until that happens, he holds on tight to the boy in his arms.
↳ genre melodrama, angst, enemies-to-lover, fake marriage, intense pining on each other
↳ words 8k
↳ summary Seokjin spends the night and together, you both rediscover your dreams. From there on, it becomes clearer on the type of person Seokjin is. You both enter each other’s world, little by little. What will you do when his world catches on you?
↳ warning slightly strong languages, fluff
↳ song ‘roses’ by gashi, ‘’stupid deep’ by jon bellion
↳ chapters one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten completed!
Have you ever walked past a stranger and wonder how their day went?
Sometimes it’s their expression that made you curious; the sullen faces, the heavy sighs, the long look out the window of a moving train. Are they having a tough day too? Are we all just enduring the pain in complete silence? Tolerating the demands of the world just to continue living? Wouldn’t it be lovely to never have to worry about these? About whether or not you have enough to pay the utilities this month? Never having to choose sleep over food so you could save more.
.
.
.
.
Seokjin leans on his palm, arms stretched as he watches the movie on mute. He brought out a bottle of beer, flipped the cap off and drank half of it. You sat with your legs folded beside him, gingerly reaching for an apple juice box. Sound of Metal is playing on the television. A friend recommended it to you. It was about a drummer slowly going deaf due to his occupational hazard. It is a heavy movie for you. You can never imagine having to go through something similar to that. To always have all your five senses and having to cope with the challenges of losing one. Seokjin was nudging your elbow with a bag of opened potato chips, offering you one. Unreadable expression on his face, he made no effort to start a meaningless conversation and of that, you’re grateful.
For those who are wondering how Seokjin ended up watching movies at your small apartment— fret not, the explanation will arrive shortly. Your father wanted to care for your mother for the night because you have an online class early in the morning tomorrow according to the schedule. Your father didn’t want you to spend the night alone in the apartment. Not when a broke-in burglary happened just two lots away. The knob on the main door is not secure at all— rusting at the base and rattling upon use, leaving reddish brown stain upon contact. Seokjin wipes his hand to the back of his trousers. Embarrassed, you grabbed a pack of wet tissue from the kitchen counter and handed them to him. Thankfully, he took them and didn’t make much comments over the mishap. The anti-rust liquid coming from the spray trailing down to the lower part of the door was your last effort to fix the knob. But to no avail, the damage is done. Seokjin is no stranger to the sorry state of your survival.
He brought pizzas and some chicken wings— quite well-prepared for a sudden appointment. To be honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he rejected the offer. The fact that he didn’t, set your body on fire. You never have anyone over. Ever since your mother was hospitalized and your father unemployed, you didn’t have time to properly tidy up the house except the bare minimum. Seokjin notices an invitation on the kitchen table when he sets the pizza down. He asked about it and you just shove it into the bin. It was Ian’s and Suri’s second wedding invitation that they had sent to your home address. Such persistence. Although Seokjin caught the tiny hint of hostility, he didn’t dwell on it too much and you were secretly grateful for that. You would have to explain the reasons why and it will sound petty to another ear; that, you know. No one will understand your actions.
Sound of Metal is still playing on the television.
All of a sudden, you received a call.
“Yes, that’s me, how can I help you?” you cover your mouth over the phone and crawl on both knees before you stand up. Seokjin held the remote and turned the volume down. Seokjin watches your small back standing by the kitchen counter, hunched over like you were on the phone with your drug dealer. You folded your toes on the floor, twisting your ankle around as the call drags. Not long after the call, there’s some voices out the door and you reach out to the knob, yanking the door flaps open. You were inviting, and you turned all the lights on, surprising Seokjin. He crept beside you while you showed the stranger the rooms in the house.
“This room is rarely used, we use it to store medical things… so the light doesn’t work well,” you explained.
“And the master bedroom?” the person enquire politely, with a slide tilt of his head.
“Ah yes, it’s right next to it,” you motioned, “There's a bathroom and window. But it’s never opened.”
Seokjin locked eyes with the stranger, so he switched immediately to a smile.
“Oh, I am so sorry, I seem to be interrupting something with your boyfriend, I apologize,” the stranger bowed repeatedly at you and Seokjin.
“Husband,” Seokjin corrected him, “That’s quite alright, no problem.”
The stranger gests, “I would have come in the day if you say you couldn’t entertain me tonight.”
You clasped your hands together and forced out a straight line on your lips, speaking through a forced grin, “He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight, it was unplanned…” You side-eyed Seokjin. Your husband moves to see the stranger out. Once the person is gone, you head back to the movie, ushering Seokjin to rewind a bit because you missed some parts. A minute or so, Seokjin moved his attention to his lap, fumbling over his belt and mumbled, “Who was that?”
“Interested buyer,” you shot.
So you plan to sell this house.
“And where do you plan to stay after?”
“The campus dorm for a while until I could find a more affordable apartment,” you explained through heaved sigh, “For now we need the money to cover the hospital bills.”
That was it? No further explanations?
“And you decide this all without talking to me?” Seokjin swung his head in your direction, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I didn’t think-”
“Exactly.”
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.
.
.
“Do you always make decisions on impulse? On intuition?” Seokjin raised his voice slightly, making you comically jump because you weren’t expecting such a tone.
“Excuse me…” you growled back, “How is this any of your concern? I told you I will figure it out, do not worry about it.”
“And where will your father stay?”
“At the hospital. With mom.”
“And your brother?”
“At the barracks where he trains!”
“And you?”
“I just told you, at the dorm!”
“How am I supposed to see you in the dorm? We are married!”
You moved the pizza box away, scoffing before you swung your head to face him.
“You’re taking this whole husband thing way too seriously now, I think we need to set boundaries over these blurred lines because I feel that you are terrorizing your rights at the moment,” you squeezed your eye at him.
Seokjin opens and closes his mouth, opens it and closes it again.
“You are going to be homeless, how are you so chill about this?!”
“Because I’ve gone through the worst things! Being homeless isn’t going to kill me.”
You are certainly pushing the limit of human survival. It is then you realize the severe differences you and Seokjin had. The sheer fear he wore on his handsome delectable face. His hands clammy and uncertain. He is gluing his eyes on the television screen but you know his mind is everywhere else but on the movie.
If I help you, you would refuse it, won’t you?
Seokjin swallowed a thick gulp down his throat.
“You’re unfamiliar with this, I get it,” you hugged your knees and rested your chin on them. Your eyes wander around the makings of your old apartment and take a deep breath in. This old ragged torn curtain on the window. The moldy ceiling walls. The chipped windows and bad lighting. A brown stain on the kitchen floor that won’t go no matter how hard you scrub or what you scrub it with. This is far from Seokjin’s private jets, personal helicopter and sports car. That night when he ridiculed your desperation, you didn’t even have the time to process the hurt because you were so busy thinking about all the money that you could have to provide for your family.
“I have no choice Seokjin…” your voice falls quiet.
“The money I pay you will come soon, will that help you keep this house?” Seokjin blinks away from the screen and straight at you. His voice is firm and unwavering. It has been awhile since you heard such stability. He felt like a safe place, a shoulder to rest your head on. When he says those words, your world lights up and the broken pieces put themselves back together again. The dewy look in his eyes, his lips— they all conspired to have you clutch on the little things. It was the first time you have ever felt looked at. It was frightening, harrowing even— to be seen and cared for. Even for just that moment.
You couldn’t find your voice so you nodded, slowly.
He held out his hand and you lifted yours to reach it. His palm is so inviting.
But he pushes it away, “Your phone, I meant.”
You lowered your gaze immediately and fished for your phone. Seokjin called the number and texted that the house is no longer for sale. He added that there was a change in thoughts and that the owner wishes to stay in the house and he regrets the inconvenience. He shoved the phone back to you.
“Next time, discuss with me. Be it financial, commodities, utilities, whatever. You talk to me first,” Seokjin sternly said, “As the person who pays you, I want to know where my money goes.”
The movie ended.
“Would you like to take a shower first before bed or— “ you drawled.
“Shower…” he shot dryly.
“Okay… you can have the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch outside. I’ll get some towels first,” you huddled to the cupboard to fetch said towel when Seokjin suddenly yelped from the living room.
You swung your head around and rushed over with a folded towel in your hand.
His jaw hung open, twitching as he pointed to the soda spilled all over the couch. The only couch in the house. You dragged your eyes up to Seokjin and proceeded to whine his full name out. Seokjin fetches tissues from the kitchen but heads to the drawer in the kitchen cabinet for cloth instead, after your commands. You were going off about how he behaves like a toddler, spilling things over the couch and how difficult it is to make sure the couch is completely dry now that sweet carbonated drink drenched over it. Sofa is ruined, and Seokjin’s ear gets pulled when you’re done. He screams.
“Where am I supposed to sleep now?”
“We can share the bed…” he rubs his neck, “There’s no other choice. You don’t want to wake up sore for class tomorrow…”
You let out a shaky exhale. He does have a point. What’s the worst that could happen?
There he goes again, screaming.
As you tidied the bedsheet and provided a blanket to each so you don’t have to share, you poke your head to the bathroom door frame, where Seokjin is hugging himself, standing on the toilet seat.
“C-c-cockroaches,” his fore finger trembling as it points out the culprit, sneaking underneath the sink with its antennas moving. You threw your head back and groaned. What a drama queen. It’s just roaches, for goodness sake.
You whack it with a slipper and crush it with your hand before flushing it down the toilet. Pests. Seokjin is still there squatting, quivering. You had to turn the water heater on because he doesn't know how to operate a manually dialed heater. The one he has was automated. The light is flickering while he showers so he called out for you, because he got spooked. When you say that it was nothing, he let you leave only to call you repeatedly.
“Man, for a 5 feet 10 something dude, you’re literally a baby…What is it now?” you grumbled to your chest as you marched into the bathroom and opened the door to see him in his baby suit. You turned away and covered your eyes immediately.
“What do you want?” you groaned, positively annoyed and flustered over the view.
“Wanted to tell you that I’m done,” he ties the towel around his waist and walks beside you squeezing by the tiny door frame. His wet skin brushed over your blouse and he chuckles at you clenching your eyes shut.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it all…” he clicked his tongue and spoke in a low voice.
“Yeah I thought we weren’t supposed to mention that…” you protested.
“If we showered together, we could have saved the water bill…” he narrows the distance between his face and yours. Taking the chance that you don’t see him, his eyes soften as he studies your features. Your fingernails, your baby hair sprouting out, your heaving chest and goosebumps forming over them. He remembered how your nipples erected over the blanket in the cruise when he left you there in bed, in the morning. How thoroughly tired you looked, with marks all over your neck and chest. He contemplated whether he should give you a kiss goodbye, but decided that it would only amount to more questionable things than he’d like to explain.
Suddenly, you moved your head in his direction, sniffing. Narrowly missing his lips.
You grabbed his chin roughly.
“Did you use my fucking shampoo?” Your eyes blasted open and he retracted.
“I might.”
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After you showered, both of you crawled into bed. Seokjin his blanket over his chest and you pulled yours over your shoulder. You were laying on your side, with your back facing him while he faced the ceiling. Studying the cracks it had, How unfamiliar is this. The last time you shared a bed, it was barely big enough for one. This time it’s a queen sized bed but doesn’t allow much space to move. The mattress is springy and it makes noise at every motion made. Seokjin finally feel the alcohol kicking in now, but not enough for him to do stupid things. He just feels a little dizzy, a little on the cloud nine— if you may.
“I can’t sleep…” he darted.
No response from your side.
He leaned on one elbow and hooked his chin over your shoulder, “Are you sleeping?”
“Yes,” you shot, annoyed.
“Why would you answer if you were?” Seokjin slumps back into his space.
“Just close your God damn eyes and go the fuck to sleep, before I whack you unconscious with a broomstick…” you grumbled through gritted teeth, fisting your blanket tighter.
“I can’t sleep in an unfamiliar place…”
“Literally you’re the one who told my dad you wanted to be here…”
“Talk to me… Tell me a story. My nanny always tells me a story.”
“Seokjin you’re 29.”
“Come on… Don’t bring age into this discussion. Tell me something you never told someone. Anything…”
“Jesus, like what?” You switched to face him. He bounces at your movements.
“Scars. Do you have a scar?”
You carefully thought about it, and, “Yeah I have scars. I have one over my left knee cap. I was playing on the bicycle and fell, grazing the tar road, right here,” you showed him.
“Hm, can’t really see it…” Seokjin hummed while carefully inspecting the said scar.
“That’s because my mom rubbed banana peels on it. Everyday, until it’s gone.”
“Nice… only one?”
“There’s another one under my chin… that’s why I like looking down. That way no one would notice it…”
Seokjin noticed it the first night you were in bed with him, but it didn’t register to him then that it was a scar, that used to be a wound.
“How did that one happened?”
“Mom and dad were in a fight, mom pushed me off the staircase when I tried to stop them. No hard feelings because now I know how frustrating men could be,” you shrugged and put your hand between your legs.
“What about you Seokjin? Do you have a scar?”
He shook his head. So you could deduce that he must have had a pampered childhood. Or a lonely one— you couldn’t decide. His face puffed as he thought of the next topic.
“What’s your dream?”
You try to come up with a quick answer to get it over with but— nothing comes out on your mind no matter how hard you try. Dreams? What is my dream?
“Um, my mom to be able to live her life the way it was. Have my dad live a debt-free life. And for my brother to graduate from his police school.”
Seokjin chuckles. He chuckles again now that he sees your confused face.
“What??”
“Those are not dreams you want for yourself, it’s the dreams you want for others! I’m asking about your dream. What you want!”
You paused for a brief moment, “I never really thought about it, no one had ever asked me that,” more pauses and, “I want to be a scientist… get a job with higher pay so I could live better. That’s my easy answer. It’s the appropriate answer.”
“What’s your dream if money wasn’t an issue?” Seokjin laced his fingers and rested them on top of his stomach.
Money is always an issue. Seokjin questions were all questions you have never asked yourself. No one was ever interested in them, in the answers. All these while you are coping with live day-by-day. You have never truly thought about the future. You took science because you had potential, as your counselor suggested. You’re good at it, you don’t necessarily really love it. It was the next rational decision to bring your family out of poverty. A rational decision is not a dream. Up until this moment, your dreams were built around the chances and opportunities you have and the mountains you know you could climb; all these signifies one thing— safety. You never truly dreamt. You mold your existence, your goals and aspirations around the things you face and what is achievable.
“When I find out, I’ll let you know, how’s that?” you suggested, and poke your hand over the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t realize you have a mole there.”
Seokjin turns red.
“Don’t touch my face… I don’t like that,” he warned.
“Sorry…” you moved slightly away.
Seokjin shrugs and nodded, “Yeah I have mole here, you never paid attention to it…”
You gawked, “How am I supposed to pay attention to it if every time we meet all I want to do is shove my hand down your throat?!”
“I have one on my collarbone, remember that?” Seokjin hooks his finger over the brims of his neck hole and pulls it down to show you. Your eyes travelled everywhere but there.
“Yes, yes,” you repeated, shoving it off.
“You’re not really looking, look at it…” he followed your eyes.
“Why are we suddenly talking about moles!”
“You’re the one poking mine. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“How many moles do you have?”
You rolled your eyes. You sit up and pull your hair to one side. Then you point to one mole behind your left ear lobe. One on your left shoulder blade.
“That’s all.”
Seokjin stares at you quizzically as you lay back on the bed. Unconvinced that that was all. You didn’t want to ask him why he was staring but the way he was tutting his tongue annoyed you.
“I don’t think that is all. I specifically remembered one more at least, a very prominent one…” you heard him say.
“That’s probably from other girls Seokjin… You got yourself confused—” then you hitched your breathing when you felt a warm hand palming over your left knee, travelling up your thigh. You cursed yourself for wearing boxer shorts to bed. He sat up, pulled down your blankets and pushed your boxers brim up to see your left thigh.
“There,” he thumbed over the little mole, before he licked his lips then gazed up to meet your eyes, “I remember it because it was sticking out the blanket in the morning I left.” So sexy. Your thigh was out the blanket for him to see the mole clearly. After witnessing that, he kept thinking about you in slit dresses high enough for that mole to pop out. To be seen by everyone, but only his to touch.
Seokjin moves into his side of the bed again after a small goodnight wish. He lay his head in his palm, starting to feel hot all of a sudden but was unable to throw the blanket away because he had urgent matters to address in between his legs. He palms it down in a desperate attempt to calm the raging boner. How is he so vulnerable around you? Just a little contact, a little touch leaves his head riled up with indecent thoughts. Maybe he really did take this marriage thing seriously.
She doesn’t love you, man. Get your shit together.
Right next to him, you were rubbing your thighs together. Had you not reminded him that you had an early morning class tomorrow, would he have advanced to more than just a touch? A kiss perhaps? A full blown making out session? Maybe his dick half inside you instead of clenching over nothing? You are sweating profusely. He is just right there. But it feels so wrong. Why are you always horny at the worst time? You remember being better at controlling this. Why so desperate? From just a little brush of his finger? How embarrassing!
Please let the morning come quick.
You prayed.
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.
“Babe, wake up. I think you have class…” Seokjin’s voice softly awakens you. When you peek through one eye, you see your lecturer and your classmates watching you. Seokjin is shirtless and was next to you in close proximity.
“Your boyfriend may join the lecture if he wants,” Dr. Mah invites.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rubbed your eyes and pinch your nose bridge, sitting awake. The whole class gasped. Then is it your one night stand?
“Your sexual activity is none of my concern,” Dr. Mah reminds.
Realizing what that could signify, you hurried to correct yourself, “No, no it’s not like that. He’s my husband! I’m not having casual sex or anything that is not safe…” The seconds felt long when it registered to you what you have done. You yourself had announced to the world you know that you are now Kim Seokjin’s wife. You gulped as you caught Suri and Ian’s dejected face on the box before they switched off the video.
Seokjin smirks and lays his head on the headboard while checking his phone idly.
Moments before…
The alarms rang simultaneously with Zoom meeting calls. Seokjin frowns awake. You have your face plastered on his back, arms wrapped around his tiny waist. Your phone was charging on his side of the bed, so he pressed the receive call button out of habit. Seokjin had taken off his shirt mid through sleeping because it got really hot in the A.Ms. The video was on and his collarbone and the mole on it was on full display. He didn’t know who was the lecturer but he had the idea that perhaps the bald one fixing his glasses and clearing his throat might be the one. The older man called out your full name and Seokjin finally came out of his snooze to address the matter.
He shook your shoulder softly, nuzzling his nose tip over your shoulder calling you, “Baby, baby” repeatedly, “Baby, your lecturer is calling for you. You have class, remember?”
Some of your classmates covered their mouth, fetching their phone to text. Gaping over the scandalous view. The best student of the batch is in bed with a shirtless handsome man, and it was the same man that fetched her in a blue Lamborghini! The campus’s good girl is leading a double life! To Ian and Suri, it comes as a legit surprise, totally out of this world. You have never been on a date, now you’re married?! You didn’t even invite them to the wedding! They didn’t even know when! And let alone Kim Seokjin?! This was so sudden! And it all felt like a strange set up to them. Now, with the whole class as witness, there’s no other way to cover this up. You have officially lost your whole world to this pretense marriage.
“Keep the video on,” Seokjin mouthed at you behind the phone. You had to keep your face expressionless so you won’t draw attention to you again, after the chaos you have caused. Why were you so tired anyways? You normally have no problem waking up no matter how late you slept. You didn’t drift directly to sleep because you were fighting your hormone urges to literally jump on Seokjin and devour him whole. You weren’t asleep because you were busy rationalizing your head over the things that aren’t sex. And it was such a good sleep. It’s been awhile since you felt safe in bed. Knowing that you could trust this person with your life. Or else his father will come after his neck. He felt warm and strong, and his chest smelled so good, his hands, fingers. Saliva pools in your mouth when you visibly gulp at the object of your secret carnal desire is standing by the door with a Starbucks bought iced-Americano sent over by delivery. He hands you it after he took a mouthful sip of it, making sure he was in the camera frame and planting a kiss on your neck before he leaves.
He puts on his work attire, his dress shirt and slacks. You can’t help but catch his bulge slightly out for display over the curve of the slacks as he tuck his dress shirt in behind the camera. He directs his forefinger to you then back to the camera phone where your class is ongoing. You crossed your eyes at him and he shook his head.
“In the graph it’s clear that the Fick’s First Law of Diffusion centers around concentration. Concentration of what? Of the drug plasma concentration. And when we talk about rate, we are always referring to what? To the time…” Dr. Mah continues.
Then, Seokjin appears one more time in the camera frame of yours, hunched over to give you a kiss on the forehead, or two, or three times. Just to say he is going to work. You pushed him away because you got shy. So far, everyone is buying the facade. It better stayed that way. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Seokjin locking the main door behind him before he leaves, then he makes sure it stays locked after he shut them.
That was very thoughtful. And very un-Seokjin like.
A few minutes later, you heard his signature Lamborghini roar down the road, and a message chimes in.
[Seokjin]: Remember what you promised.
Your face flares up in heat at the words. Last night, before you drifted to silence so you could sleep, Seokjin asked for you to tell him your dreams, whatever it was, he wanted to know. After repeatedly telling him you couldn’t name one on the spot, he said, and he said this in such a coaxing way you couldn’t refuse,
“Start thinking about one each day, starting tomorrow…”
“That’s impossible,” you rolled your eyes with your back still turned towards him.
“I don’t care how you’re going to do it, I just want you to come up with a dream. Every single day, yours, not anyone else. It must be yours alone, it is about your wants, be as selfish as you can,” he stresses.
“I can’t be selfish— “ you protested.
“Start being. You have to. Or you’ll lose yourself trying to appease others,” he curls into a bowl, laying on his side, clutching on the tip of the pillow like his life depends on it.
Silence from your side.
“Text me one, each day…” he added.
“Sure whatever.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Suddenly he stretched his hand out with a pinky boink out. His arm was long enough without you having to turn to your back. Blinking at it, you finally hooked your pinky with his, then unhooked it immediately.
“Stamp…”
“What?”
“It’s not sealed if isn’t stamped,” he said.
That’s how the promise was sealed.
[Seokjin]: Remember what you promised.
[Seokjin]: ??
You dragged down the pop up message on top and tapped reply. Before you could word out your dream, you mauled over the thought. What is your dream if you only had you to think of?
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.
Seokjin visits the housing site. He has built a village consisting of high-end sophisticated technologically-advanced villas. There are only 30 units built and there was a man-made lake in the middle. There is also a small fort that allows private-own sailing boats to sail the ocean. He plans to install only eco-friendly devices in the area under this housing and the project had been well supported by the shareholders after it was proposed about 2 years ago. His father never said a word about it, but that was his way of saying that it is a potential project. The only comment he ever got from Senior Kim was how pretentious it was. In his words the project only “concerns the top 1% of the country project while doing absolutely nothing for the economy of the nation,” which Seokjin tried to fix, by allowing foreign investors to chip in through an exclusive stockholders and potential buyers-only party that is arranged to happen in a few more weeks.
He is quite nervous about it; his driver stops at the second house around the lake and Seokjin steps outside of the company sedan with his hand in his pocket. The engineer is already at work, discussing with the contractor. Seokjin, easily the one at the top of the food chain when he steps in, gets dry greetings, suffice with the formality he brings. He shook his hand and smiled, “No, no, there’s no need for the bowings, I’m just here to watch how you guys are coping…” He gests. He thought that if he comes here, he becomes more informed with the situation his underlings are dealing with, then maybe, just maybe, his father would approve his efforts. He bore his heart and soul in this project, talked with designers and contractors and engineers alike, just to get the most appropriate information about the building from ground up. For the designs, each villa was unique to its own but still bore the similar traits that carries the prestige of the Kim Holdings. He designed them personally with the help of architects and engineers. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was his baby.
Seokjin personally babied the second house. On the outside it was already perfect to his eyes. The wide windows, the porch and small garden but on the inside, he felt like it was missing major domestic touches. Today, the contractors and interior designer are beginning to deduce a concept for the kitchen. Kitchen is of course the heart of the home. It also happens to be Seokjin’s favorite place. Seokjin carefully points out with his hand the things he wanted and where, the cabinets colors and where the counters should be. He gives clear and concise commands, the interior design immediately understood the image he was trying to create. He had a vivid image of the whole kitchen and it was nothing short of impressive. Only last night he billed a list of things he wanted installed to the project group and they all are working around the clock to make it happen.
Within an hour, the interior designer comes up with a whole design of the kitchen. With an approval nod and a big smile from Seokjin, the work began. About 2 hours ago, when Seokjin left his Lamborghini in the company CEO’s parking spot, you texted him an image and a caption,
[You]: *sends an image*
[You]: my dream kitchen. Bigger oven, bigger space to knead flours in.
Seokjin remembered your face as you ate the pizza he bought. You eat the bread part slowly, relishing in the taste. You told him that you knew how to make pizza and sold a few before you started university and if you had a chance you wanted to make more because your brother loves it, but you don’t have the space to make one because the place you rented is closed and now, demolished.
“I love cooking... but as you can see, that kitchen had nothing working and the university banned me from using their culinary faculty,” you shrugged, “They say it’s only for their culinary students. Which was fair,” The sparkles in your eyes completely disappear at the mention of culinary faculty. You would have been a great chef. Seokjin knows how much you love home cooking, and you always bring some at every visit to his father’s mansion. Be it spicy broiled potato stew, grilled mackerels or fried rice. Seokjin dares to vouch that your fried rice is the best one he has ever had. Although he will never vocally admit it.
“Make sure the oven is big and the counter, large,” Seokjin submits a final reminder, “But don’t make it look disproportionate.” He bought everyone lunch and returned to his office for paperwork, in case he needs to read over agreements and sign things. Also because he is terrified of his secretary. He sits in his chair, leafing over documents after documents, project proposals and adding comments here and there when his office phone chimes. He stabbed the ‘speaker’ button with the bottom of his Parker pen and darted, “Yup…”
“There is someone in the lobby who wants to drop something for you, she says it’s dinner and thank you for the pizza and wings last night,” Yoongi, Seokjin’s secretary drawls over the phone line. Then the said secretary turned to the side where Seokjin’s office was and squeezed his eyes suspiciously. Seokjin blinks over to Yoongi and fetches the phone handle saying, “That’s the wife… can you bring her up for me?”
Yoongi tutted his tongue and gave Seokjin a Cheshire cat smile through the glass mirror, “Sure thing, boss…” Seokjin slammed the phone down and pursed his lips in annoyance.
Several floors down,
“Um, miss? Mr. Seokjin asks you to deliver it yourself,” the kind lady on the front desk with a neat ballerina bun said. She also mentioned that she will personally show you the way. Security is no kidding in this building. You took your neatly tied bento and followed the tall lady. Scuffling behind her, you keep fixing your hair and neatening your blouse. You were clearly underdressed, far too casual for this visit— which you severely regret. Your plan was just to say thank you and bolt out, why did he have to send you up? The lady gracefully pointed you to the hall that leads to Seokjin’s personal office.
The whole interior screams crisp and extravagant nuance to it, furnished with only the finest cabinets and doors. The floors are marble and the walls are littered with artworks you remember Seokjin’s mother likes to collect. The benches are leather finish, and exude an aura of endless exorbitant materials. After you turned to the corner, you saw a men, in 3-piece suits bowing at you, and calling your honorary title, “Lady Kim,” the man greeted, placing his hand over his heart and bowing, “Min Yoongi, Mr. Kim’s personal secretary at your disposal. May I escort you?”
You bowed back and stammered, “S-sure, p-please. I don’t know the way… I might find my way to the next building if I’m not careful…” you chuckled nervously.
“Ah, that would be quite impossible considering you need to build a bridge first but I will propose the excellent idea towards the man of the house,” he jests. You cracked a more genuine smile when you somehow understood his dry sense of humor. He is quite hilarious and quite lovely. Years of working with Seokjin might have made him an excellent people reader. You wondered why such positive quality never really brushed off on Seokjin. Yoongi stands in front of the door and knocks twice. You heard a stern, full of authority, “Come in,” muffled through the door. The knob was turned and Yoongi allowed you in. Seokjin stood up and walked around the table to hold the door open until you stepped fully inside.
He chewed his lips behind you as you asked him where you could settle yourself with your eyes. He points to the small coffee table where several chairs were found. It was right in front of his desk— its surfaces were barely visible from the mountain of files stacked on top of it. Your eyes drifted to the wall clock he has on the opposing wall and then back to the stack of files. Looks like dinner wasn’t in the plan any time soon. When you turned to him, he was forcing out a smile.
“Why are you smiling? Stop smiling. It’s weird.”
“I can’t, I have to. Yoongi’s watching…”
“Close the shades then…”
“I can't, I don’t have the remote…”
“Who has the remote?”
“Yoongi does…”
“Holy mushrooms… is he terrorizing you? Blink twice if you need help.”
“It’s not like that, he is just worried I’ll cry while I work,” he rambles and darts his eyes up at you, and clears his throat, “It’s a long story.”
“You cried?”
“Let’s never talk about that, ever again,” he moves next to you and has you seated while you were still asking why he cried. He continues, “What did you bring for dinner?”
You suddenly zapped into the presence and the reason why you were here. Your hands proceed to untie the bento but stopped because it felt strange opening the things you prepared yourself. You pushed the bento over to him. His pretty long fingers untied the knot easily and you looked away as you figured the view of his hand were a little too aphrodisiac to handle at this distance. Seokjin saw the little teddy bear rice balls with seaweed eyes and inari cap and he couldn’t resist smiling. There is an egg sandwich on the side, some egg rolls that look like a motorcycle underneath the mickey mouse toothpick. There is also some gummy bear from the brands he liked, without orange gummy bear. Seokjin smiled at the thoughtful gesture. He doesn’t like orange gummy bears and always leaves it for you because it was too sour for him. You remembered that little known fact.
“I made some fried rice underneath just in case you’re still hungry. And there’s stir fried fish cake too… and toasted lavers,” you said, scrolling down idly on your phone. Seokjin took the chopstick and spoon, and devoured them. He offers a bite. You shook your head.
“Listen to me, Yoongi is the first person we need to convince. He might not look the part, but he will report everything to my father, so it’s best that we make it appear as genuine as it can,” he explains through gritted teeth and poses an angelic smile at you. You gingerly approach the wooden spoon with a mountain of rice and let him feed you.
“Good girl…” he says in a way that makes your stomach dipped.
You prayed he didn’t notice how flustered you become. You started coughing because one of the rice grains went to your airway and Seokjin was right about Yoongi always surveilling because he arrived with a cup of water for you and was standing inside Seokjin’s office. You didn’t notice when he even came in but he is here and he is handing you the water. Seokjin scooped another spoon for himself while you were choking. Typical Seokjin. He only handed you his handkerchief.
“Thank you, Yoongi…” Seokjin said instead of you. You only thanked him through your hair.
“You’re welcome…” Yoongi leaves.
Seokjin drank down the ginseng soup you brewed for him. It was piping hot when you packed it, now it's just nice to drink. He made a grunting sound right after.
“That’s a good ginseng. Dad sent it, right?”
“Y-yea,” you stuttered, still recovering from the coughing fit.
Seokjin cleaned the whole bento. Not a grain of rice was left. It was clear that he was starving and he was burping when he took the bentos away from you. You insisted that you could wash it when you return home, but he said it was the least he could do since you did all the cooking, and he let the door open so Yoongi could hear how nice he was as a husband. An A-grade acting skill. While you wait, you wipe the desk with a tissue. You have always been obsessed with keeping things clean and in order. As you threw the used tissue away, you were interrupted by Yoongi, knocking at the door with a toothbrush set.
“Looks like he forgot to bring his toothbrush over, he always brushes his teeth after meals… would you mind?” Yoongi pleads, and watching your hesitance he adds, “I have an international call to take, they put me on hold for now…”
You inhaled a small puff of air in through your mouth and took the toothbrush from Yoongi’s hand as he said, down the hall to the left, Seokjin’s personal bathroom.
“You have a tub in your bathroom??” your voice echoed through the marble walls and made Seokjin jump in his place, your bento almost flying out the sink. Seokjin groans and starts hissing, “Why are you here?”
You wiggled his toothbrush set in his face.
“Yoongi took it out knowing that you were coming upstairs, I knew it… that’s why he left his desk. And I thought it was to take a personal call from dad…” Seokjin grumbles accusatively, “Smart. You didn’t do anything suspicious like refusing to come into the baths right?”
You paused.
“Well I’m not really desperate to be raking you in the bathroom, so I was hesitating a bit, not sure if this was allowed in office settings, with all the staff here you know… I think it was an appropriate move coming from a lady such as myself…” you defended yourself, adding with a flick of your hair, “Besides, I’m a wife, not a hoe.”
Seokjin dries his hand with a cloth hanging by the mirror stand. Then he roughly grabs the toothbrush from you and squeezed the paste out the tube. While he does that, you screened the bathroom. The white gold finish, studded designs. Rows of bath bombs and scented candles of all fragrance available. The light behind the mirror and cabinet full of towels. He could practically live here. He could, but he wouldn’t. But you would.
“My cockroach infested bathroom is nothing compared with this…”
“Don’t forget flickering light bulbs…”
“Yeah, flickering bulbs. If I ever sell my house, can I stay here?”
“You’re not selling your damned house, no one would buy them.”
“The guy last night would. But you told him not to.”
“What kind of husband lets a wife stay in a toilet…? Sometimes when you talk, you don’t think and I don’t know how you live this long…”
“With a lot of patient people. And you, not being one.”
Walking back, Seokjin is hugging the bento and you follow him out. However, Yoongi isn’t around. His desktop is still on, signifying that he hasn’t left. But the look in Seokjin’s eyes suggested that it could be one of his shenanigans. Guard’s up.
“I have a few more files to look into, so you could just sit there and mind your own business,” Seokjin shooed you away with his hand.
“But I want to go home now, the last bus— “
“If you mention one more time about the last bus on whatever time, I will throw your transportation card out the fucking window and then you,” Seokjin leans in his chair, shifting papers and turning away from you, and, “You knew that if you come here, I will have to send you home.”
“I didn’t plan to come up, you told me to,” you shot back.
All you hear is him shifting the papers, and the sound of the paper scraping the fabric of his dress shirt then he said, “Would have it been more appropriate to send you away and paint myself as a bad husband while you play your good wife roles hm? Tell me, darling…” he said in a sing-song voice that shudders you. Seokjin knew exactly what he was doing. Rubbing your knees sitting restlessly, eyes travel wherever they please— you seem to find new things to look at and explore. Checking your emails from your phone, you decided that maybe you could start listing down assignments you need to do in accordance to their due date. And for that, you need a paper and a pen.
“Seokjinnie…” you whispered, “Seokjin— “
“Hm,” Seokjin replied.
“Do you have any small post-it notes I can write on?”
The chair spun around and not long after that, you heard a drawer being opened. He took a new stack of it from his drawer. You sprung to your feet and he shook his hand, insisting that he’ll come there instead. When the paper got to you, you shaped your hand into holding an imaginary pen and mouthed the word at him. He immediately gave you the pen he is currently using. You froze a little, not wanting him to give up the pen he needs. Understanding from that look alone, he said, “I have more.”
An hour passes by, it’s almost 10pm. Seokjin is reading earnestly and not showing signs that he’s leaving soon. He went from sitting down in the chair, to pacing left and right, to consulting Yoongi who was still outside taking calls at this hour. Don’t companies this big have a department specifically for taking international calls? Seokjin had unbuttoned the top two of his dress shirts by this time. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow and his hair is a little disheveled. Two minutes after the call, Yoongi knocks on the door to Seokjin’s office.
“The contractor can’t do weekends. Maybe next week, the earliest…” Yoongi began, talking about something you weren’t aware of. You know better not to butt in matters that aren’t yours to figure.
Without looking up from the stock index he has in his hand, Seokjin leans on his table, crossing his ankles and shifts to the next paper while answering to Yoongi, “We can’t have anyone else do it, contractor Park has always been the one we called. Can’t he push back whatever else he had at the moment for old time’s sake?” It was disguised as a question but Yoongi worked long enough with this family to know that it isn’t. Yoongi stood there still, possibly trying to word a sentence that would make his boss understand that it was simply non-negotiable. Judging from his work ethics, he probably had mentioned that ‘old-time-sake’ excuse before Seokjin even suggested it. Noticing the silence being a bit harrowing, Seokjin finally lifts his gaze to Yoongi through the paper.
“It’s just one artwork,” Seokjin’s voice curls.
You widen your eyes at your paper, mouthing, “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to. Because it’s just one artwork. He rakes more money elsewhere, why would he waste time to hang just one artwork, makes perfect sense to me…”
Seokjin and Yoongi swung their head at you at the same time. Noticing the laser eyes on you, you slowly lift your head up.
“I was just saying…” you sandwiched your cheeks between two palms.
Yoongi begins to explain how Seokjin’s mother bought an artwork and wanted it to be hung in Seokjin’s penthouse. Contractor Park is the go-to person for that for many years, since he’s done a great job on all of them. Seokjin’s mother has, since then, promoted Jimin’s, Park Jimin’s handcrafts to all her wealthy art-loving friends; so when Jimin denied Seokjin’s request, it’s easy to see Seokjin’s reaction and how offended he was. ‘Old-times-sake’ is not just a reminder, it is a threat. But it seems that Jimin’s business has grown beyond that level and that he does not, any longer, fear the phrase. A corporation as big as Seokjin’s has the power to overturn small businesses at any time of the day so for Jimin to act rather rashly was not uncommon, it was unexpected. It looks like Seokjin already knew where Jimin could be occupied in, but he is not spilling a word as competing companies never mention each other; it’s office taboo.
All these situations sound dangerous for a mere artwork-hanging-agenda. Are these the things rich people are worried about? Influence? If it were up to you, you would hang it by yourself. But that’s just an emphasis on how different you are from the world Seokjin was born in. You’re a simpleton and his is complex— where even hiring a contractor could be a means of dispute.
“I’ll help you hang them…” you offered yourself.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I will not allow such a thing,” Seokjin scoffed.
“She’ll help, that’s a great idea,” Yoongi seconds you, “More time together.”
You beam at Yoongi and then Seokjin, before your smile immediately dissolves at the sight of sour Seokjin. He blinks back into the stock market analysis report sent by the accountancy department, his mind still lingering on the thought of taking you home with him for the first time. Revealing to you the space he had kept private all these years and trying to predict the situations that could happen.
Seokjin comes up with an arrangement all of a sudden and you were sure that he brought it up because you were pushing your way through his private space on purpose so he does it as a form of revenge of some sort.
"If you're coming to my house to install my painting, then I'll have you bring me to that friends' wedding you tried so hard to hide from me,
… deal?"
Btw i started putting my fics on ao3. So you can read them over there soon and while I am on it I did a little editing and worked on the structure (I am learning my paragraphs 😅)
i planned to tidy my room, got sidetracked and randomly finished a fic i started after andi won the first four hills comp this season. is anyone interested or did i just waste an hour i could’ve spent cleaning
went through various fic drafts i forgot about and i found a kraftböck fic with a decent word count, as well as a lellinger and a team germany fic and then also a roughly drafted danny/ryoyu thingy because someone requested it but i can’t remember who. will i ever finish them? who knows
"Hmm.. Is this all?" you thought to yourself as you pushed the shopping cart towards the cashier counter.
Today was an important day for you. You had to get up early to buy some stuff and make everything perfect because it was his birthday. Who is this "him" you ask? He is none other than Kim Ryeowook.
Ryeowook has always been your bias from your start. His looks, his voice, his personality, his laughter, practically everything about him catches your eye and you can't help but be drawn more to him. Normal people would think you are crazy. However, you can't do anything about it, right?
"Wow, that's a lot of stuff, _____-ssi," the cashier, who is your friend, said.
You embarrassingly scratched your head and laughed, "Oh? Is it? Hehheh."
Your friend looked at you straight and smirked, "Let me guess. Is this related to your oh-so-beloved Ryeowook?"
"You sure know me well," you smiled.
"How can I not know with you constantly blabbering about him," your friend laughed as she scanned your items.
You laughed awkwardly and continued to watch the price on the meter to rise.
"That would be $30.50," your friend said. You gave her the money, bid her goodbye and left.
When you reached home, you placed all the grocery bags on the kitchen counter top and started unloading the stuff inside. Eggs, kimchi, seaweed... Yup, everything you bought was here. You felt kinda useless, the only thing in your house was rice. You're a student in University anyway. You didn't have time to cook even though you are a pretty good cook.
Soon, you started making the dish you wanted to make for Ryeowook.
...
After what seems forever, you looked up at the clock. It was six. You immediately packed the lunch boxes of food into a cloth carrier and placed it on the table. You then went to wash up and got yourself ready. Once you felt nothing was left out, you took the carrier and left. You took a taxi down to the destination - Sukira.
"Wow, there's so many people here!" you thought aloud to yourself. You wonder.. how were you going to pass this to him? Suddenly, many people screamed. You looked over to see what is the commotion about. Sungmin and Ryeowook were outside the station.
"What?!" you screamed inside and ran over there. Apparently since it was Ryeowook's birthday, he is doing some kind of special surprise to ELF.
"Ryeowook! Happy birthday, you're so handsome!"
"Sungmin! You're so sexy!"
"MARRY ME!"
Fans kept on shouting lines to them while RyeoSung kept smiling and bowing to fans. "I want to pass this to Ryeowook," you looked down to your lunchbox. You tried to squeeze your way in however, to not avail. You tried your luck again. Unfortunately, you got shoved out of the crowd pretty rudely.
"Hey! Stop trying to get in. You're so annoying!" a girl exclaimed irritatedly.
You sighed, " I guess I stand no chance." You slowly walked away with the lunchbox in your hands. You wanted to cry, the amount of hard work you put into these dishes were all wasted.
"H-Hey..." someone called you from behind.
You turned around and your eyes widened in shock.
It was.. Ryeowook.
"Is that for me?" he smiled while pointing to your lunch box.
You were in complete shock and stuttered, "Y-Ye-eah, h-ere." You passed the lunch box to him.
"Thanks! Uhm.. You want to come in and share it with me? I'm pretty sure you haven't had your dinner," he took the lunch box. Actually, you have yet to eat anything today because you were too hyped out about making this meal for Ryeowook.
"S-Sure," you smiled and went inside the station through a special passage. Ryeowook then stopped at a mini table and placed the carrier there and pulled out a seat for you to sit on. You blushed as you sat on the seat while he went to sit on the seat directly opposite you.
Then, he opened the lunch box.
"Wow! It's kimchi fried rice, my favourite," he grinned like a child.
"Try it," you waited for his reaction. He scooped up a spoonful and ate it. His eyes immediately widened.
You grew anxious, "Is it too horrible? I'm sorry! I can throw it away! Sorry!"
He swallowed down the food and placed a hand on your shoulder, "Relax. It's not horrible. I think this is the best kimchi fried rice I've ever tasted!"
"R-Really?!" You got a shock.
"Yup! You are even a better cook than I am. It's nice to have someone cook for me for a change instead of me cooking for nine picky and rowdy boys," he laughed. [this is after heenim left and kangin came back]
"T-Thanks," you blushed and suddenly, your stomach grumbled. Your face turned into a very dark shade of red.
"Here!" Ryeowook held out a spoonful of rice, "Eat some."
"You sure?"
"Yeah!"
You hesitantly went to eat the food. You can't believe it. Your bias was feeding you food.
So, you and Ryeowook continued chatting and laughing, you two got to know each other even more, until it was time for him to go for the radio broadcast.
"Ahh, ______-ssi, I have to go. Sorry!" Ryeowook frowned.
You smiled, "It's okay, Ryeowook-ssi."
"Call me oppa," he smiled a very cute smile.
"Alrighty, oppa. It's kinda late. I have to go too," you smiled.
"I see.. Before you go, can I have your number?" he asked which surprised you greatly. Never in your life would you even imagined Ryeowook would ask for your number. You nodded with a very huge grin on your face and wrote down your number on a piece of paper and passed it to him.
"I really have to go now. Bye oppa! Happy birthday!" you smiled and left
...
"So, Ryeowook ah, having a good birthday?" Sungmin said while broadcasting the radio live.
Ryeowook smiled very genuinely, "Yes, thanks to someone."
--------
This fic is dedicated to Admin H! Hehehe! Happy birthday, Ryeowook AKA eternal maknae!
You ran as fast as you could, escaping the wrath of your parents.
"Argh," you panted as your head looked in every direction, hoping your parents, particularly your mother, was out of sight.
Suddenly, you were snapped back into reality when you noticed you were at somewhere unfamiliar to you. You ended up in a garden full with flowers and trees, but it seems deserted because there was no one here! The garden was extremely pretty, you wondered why there was nobody here.
"Maybe I should explore this garden," you grinned.
You are a Half-Canadian, half-Korean, living in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Even though this was your hometown, you have never seen this garden before. Well, you did not have any time to, considering the fact that you have to study for your major exams and you were constantly having violin competitions. It's not like you wanted to have them, your parents forced you to. Perfection means everything to your parents. They expect you to be the top student in school, receiving honor awards and also to win every single competition you took part in. Sadly for you, you lost the previous competition you took part in by getting second place.
Your parents weren't particulary happy about this. The moment your mother found out, she forced you to practice your violin every single day and night. Your fingers were getting sore and pain. You couldn't take it any longer. This was a good moment to actually rest.
Then, out of nowhere, a beautiful melody was heard by you.
Your eyes widened, "There is someone here?"
You decided to walk to where the music was coming from.
Then, you saw a boy around your age playing the violin, happily.
You went to hide behind a tree just next to you. You poked your head out to carefully watch this boy. He looked like a real angel that was sent down from the heavens, no kidding. However, he does seem kind of familiar. He was playing the violin so swiftly, plus a gentle smile on his face. You focused more on his expression, you never had that kind of expression while playing the violin before. All you had was a frustrated kind.
To think someone actually enjoys playing the violin...
You couldn't bear to leave your eyes off that guy for any second. He was just too beautiful. You continued watching him, completely forgetting about your parents and the pain on your fingers.
Then, he finished the song and placed the violin on the bench behind him.
"I know you're there," he said calmly.
You got a huge shock and stumbled, which resulted you to accidentally trip over a root of the tree you were hiding behind. Your face was completely flushed with embarrassment and you hoped the floor would just open up and suck you in.
"Here," the boy said as he offered a hand to help you up. You looked up and slowly accepted his offer.
"I.. Uh. I'm sorry," you looked away, embarrassed.
The boy laughed, "It's okay. I'm Henry. Henry Lau. What's your name?"
Henry..Lau?! No wonder he looked so familiar, he is a member in Super Junior-M!
"I'm ______," you said with a smile.
Henry grinned, "So, _____, what brings you here?"
"I-I was running away from my parents and I guess I ended up here," you said.
"Oh?" Henry seemed a little shocked, "What for?"
You kept quiet, you did not want to tell him. You didn't trust him. You just met him.
Henry chuckled, "It's okay if you don't want to tell me."
You smiled as you directed your focus on his violin. Henry seemed to have noticed that and went to pick up his violin.
"You play?" He asked. You nodded as you took the violin from his grasp and went into position, placing the violin in between your chin and your shoulder. However, when you pressed down on the strings, your fingers hurt badly.
"Ouch," you winced.
Henry took the violin away and placed it back on the ground. He immediately went to examine your fingers. Your fingers were bloodly red and it did not look good.
"Your fingers," Henry started, "Luckily I always have some bandage with me." He went to the corner of the bench and took up a small box of bandage. He teared the opening and took out some bandages and wrapped all the fingers on your right hand with it.
"You shouldn't play the violin that much, it hurts your fingers, especially if you press the strings down with too much strength," Henry lectured.
You looked down, "I-I can't do anything about it."
Then, you went to tell him about your problem. Henry's mouth formed an "o" shape and did not say anything else.
"Can I ask you something?" You asked, "How do you play the violin with a smile?"
"It's because I enjoy playing the violin. It's my joy. I feel like I'm free whenever I play it, you know. More importantly, it gives people joy when I play it too," he smiled.
You were flabbergasted, all your life, you see the violin as a horrible instrument that can bring you nothing but displeasure. Now, someone else say it brings joy.
Henry continued, "I know you probably see the violin as a bad thing but maybe if you see it in a positive way, it will lighten up your spirits."
You stood up and grabbed the violin and went into the position again. Henry examined you. Then, he placed his hands on your shoulders.
"Relax," he smiled as you blushed and relaxed your shoulders. You did not press the strings that hard this time.
You closed your eyes and started playing a melody.
...
After, you have finished, Henry clapped.
"Wasn't that hard, was it?" he chuckled. You have finally found happiness in playing the violin, something you never thought you will experience.
"Thank you," you gave a really sweet smile that sent million butterflies to Henry's stomach, "Ah, I better get going now."
You asked Henry for directions and when he did, you thanked him and started walking off.
"Wait!" Henry called out which made you turn back, "I was wondering... if we could play the violin together next time."
You laughed, "Sure. Meet you here tomorrow at noon? I'm free tomorrow."
"Deal."
Henry... The angel that made you see light.
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Arrrh. How was it? >< I had a hard time writing this fic... >3< btw, i have no knowledge on violins orz oh && please send in some requests X))
