kinam spent days writing and rewriting this one particular note but even now, on draft number 15, the words seemed to be coming out completely wrong. deep down kinam knows it’s because there are no right words in this particular situation, at least not with the way he’s doing it. he shouldn’t be writing his thoughts down on a piece of paper. he should be telling her all of this face to face, like she deserves, but for some reason kinam can’t seem to get to muster the little courage he has left rushing through his veins to confront her. out of fear, maybe, that she’ll react the same way lynx did. or maybe he fears seeing the disappoint in her eyes when she learns he’s the one that’s leaving when he specifically asked her not to leave him again. but well, that’s what he’s always been: a coward that leaves half-assed goodbye notes and then disappears like a puff of air.
“noona
i’m sorry i didn’t say goodbye. there is no excuse good enough to explain why, so this is not me asking for forgiveness because i know i don’t deserve it. i simply didn’t want to say goodbye. i figured it would be easier this way. not for you, but for me.
my leaving is supposed to be a good thing, i didn’t want to spoil it with the feeling of leaving someone who is as important to me as you are behind. it’s a selfish thing to do, but you never needed me to protect you so i know you’ll be fine. and i’ll be fine too. i have yongsun. we’ll take care of each other. i promise you i will be good to him.
i love you.
kiki”
when harper enters her quarters to find yet another piece of paper left for her, she barely manages to suppress a sigh. her eyes close momentarily as she pulls the door closed behind her and she treads wearily to where the note is waiting for her. when she lifts it up to be able to read it, her eyes catch on the name used for her, then quickly flick down to the name at the end.
i love you. kiki
she frowns lightly, her heart temporarily skipping a beat and she has to recompose herself first before she can allow her eyes to wander further on to the actual note. her gaze skims over the lines as she reads, trying to figure out as quickly as possible what kinam could possibly want from her.
yet with every word that follows upon the previous one, her eyebrows rise further up until eventually she’s looking at the paper with a hint of incredulity. it takes her a full minute to properly process and accept that this is an actual thing having been written by kinam and actually left in her room for her to read in the real world. this is not a bad dream nor is it a shitty prank.
she reads the entire note twice more to make sure that the squiggly writing still presents the same words as before, until eventually there is no way to deny that what she has read is, in fact, really what has been written to her. and when she finally fully accepts that fact, her expression goes cold.
on a different day she might have thrown something. she might have torn up the piece of paper. she might have yelled, made a mess, picked up her comm and sent him an angry response. but not today. today she merely folds the note up and puts it away with a few other of her personal belongings, then calmly walks out of her quarters and over to a different one.
the door opens to a tap of her hand, revealing a room still quite full, but her eyes instantly notice how the important things have gone. still, she steps in further, allows the door to close again behind her, and lets her eyes wander over the things that are left behind. the place looks like kinam could walk right back in any moment, if it weren’t for the absence of a few things she knows are too important for him not to take along when he leaves.
as she stands there, silently looking at the remnants of the pilot’s presence aboard serenity, she considers how ironic it is for yongsun to have come find her personally, and for kinam to have simply left a note.
and what a note it is, indeed. suddenly anger surges through her, a dagger flashing in her hands as she steps forward and slashes at the small pile of clothes left behind. her hand moves at almost inhuman speed, her eyes focused, flickering over her own actions. she only steps back when nothing is left but pieces of fabric, then buries her dagger in the heart of it and turns away.
a note left not to say goodbye, but merely to tell her that no matter how important he has always claimed her to be, she still wasn’t important enough to say goodbye to. a note just to rub the fact into her face that she has never meant enough to him for him to go beyond his own cowardice to make it easier on her. a note just to turn her into a laughable piece of nothing.
for all his talk of not leaving her, loving her, needing her to stay with him, kinam has now simply walked out, never once considering that maybe harper could need him too. and if he had really just left that would have still been better than this. this degrading, no, insulting way of informing her of his leaving without truly letting her know about it.
just a note to ease his guilt, with nothing in it for her to ease her pain.
she wants to smash more things, throw things, make a mess of the entire room, but even as she turns to look at kinam’s leftover things again, the energy leaves her and she is left just standing in the darkened room, exhausted.
after another fifteen minutes, she finally manages to tear her gaze away and leave the now lifeless quarters. she heads back to her own, where she sinks down on the bed and turns her gaze to the ceiling. her eyes sink closed and she heaves a deep sigh, letting her head drop backwards further. she feels the tears slowly well up in her eyes, but calmly forces them away again too.
as she sits there, amidst a ship full of people, she still feels alone somehow.
and she realises then, in that one enlightening moment, that she has lost her boy with stars in his eyes.
heeled boots hit the pavement, his hold on the briefcase impossibly tight as lynx navigates through the streets. he’s clad in black jeans and a sweatshirt, a snapback snug on his head, the pink strands unable to be seen in the dark. even though it’s quite late, the streets are somewhat busy, drunkards singing, a couple making out in the corner, everyone in their own little words which seem far apart from the hacker’s.
he’s nervous, more than he ever remembers being. it’s the lack of choice that makes his hands shake as he walks to his destination, that ruttin’ fear of messing up. it isn’t like any other time where lynx could simply bolt out and run, leave everything behind and not give a care in the world. it’s just the opposite this time, every single thing is on his shoulders, the cryptic message has ensured that everything is going to be kept as a secret.
lynx is everything but a technophobe, but after research on his end, it was easy to realize they were professionals he was dealing with. and this wasn’t something he could bet on. he didn’t think he could live with himself if he fucked this up. even if it was someone else’s life on the line, lynx had never been that corrupted, not when he could do something about it. and now, it’s kinam’s beaten up picture on his phone, and there aren’t any choices at all. the moment he starts getting those directions, he knows he has to follow them word by word, and not tell a soul.
which is exactly what he’s doing, walking through the familiar streets of persephone that send a chill through his spine. their crew hasn’t got a clue either, know nothing except the fact that their pilot has been missing for over twenty-four hours now. lynx isn’t even sure how the other got captured, he’ll ask him later, personally — and everything will simply be a bad memory then, or so he hopes. panicking is the last thing he should do, not when he has five minutes before the meet-up.
it’s a secluded alley, and there is no one on lynx is side as he enters it, knowing that they might very well kill them both and run off with the briefcase. it’s not just about the money this time, it’s the codes they have stolen from a major company, which was supposed to be what they were doing on persephone. lynx isn’t even sure if jaewon would let him go, or how the other crew members would respond to a trade like this — but he doesn’t care. they can get paid less for all he cares about, he’s helping his friend and that’s it.
of course, he has a backup plan, if it can be called that — he will send a signal if shit hits the fan, but his gut-feeling tells him it will be too late then. so, he just has to play his cards right, look tough, not like the scared boy who ran off from home, but lynx who has taken down enterprises with a few keystrokes. he can do this, “i can do this” — it chants in his head, trying to push down the fear that gnaws at his head. kinam’s fine — he has to be fine. he’s a strong man, tougher than he looks, and lynx will save his ass, he will.
the sound of a car parking echoes through the alleyway, it stops on the other end, and the door opens. a huge man in a suit gets out, and drags another figure out with him, a dark sack on his head. lynx tenses up at the sight, trying to detect any signs of injury or life — and as the figure stumbles, he hears himself let out a breath, and shifts on his own feet as he waits. the duo walks towards lynx, and soon after the figure is thrown across the pavement, and lynx holds back himself from wincing. it’s not the time or place for vulnerabilities, and when the man asks him about the briefcase, he opens it from afar, showing the screen filled with green lines. he steps back when the man takes a step forward, shaking his head as he motions to the figure on the floor, the one that sits on his knees.
the man grumbles before he tears off the sack and picks kinam up from the back of his shirt, making him stand up as he moves forward. lynx takes a step forward only then, two hands stretched forward. “at the same time. or i’ll delete everything.” that’s a part of the backup plan and a bluff wrapped into one. he just hopes his acting is good enough, that the man doesn’t see how terrified the hacker is.
it pays off, the hold on kinam loosens as soon as the briefcase is taken from him, and lynx quickly moves forward, putting his arm on his own shoulders to hoist him up. he has no idea what they did to him — but he holds it off, when they are safe, back in serenity where he’ll get a million scoldings but his friend will hopefully be safe. his empty hand goes back to his pocket and he aims the gun towards the man almost immediately, the motion copied from the other side. it’s for protection only, he knows he can’t trust them, and he isn’t going to get them killed. not now, not when he can hear kinam’s breathing on his shoulder, his own hands shaking as the man slowly backs away and gets into the car.
he feels a ton of weight lift from his own shoulders, even though literally speaking, he is shouldering some of kinam’s weight. it doesn’t matter — they’re safe, and kinam’s all the priority now as he shifts, his hand on the other’s face. he seems relatively unharmed save a few bruises, though obviously shaken up. “hey buddy — you okay? i’m sorry — i’m so sorry — we’ll get you to serenity now — i —” he doesn’t know what to say, emotions have never been his strong suit, and there aren’t enough words to describe how relieved he feels. there’s only one way he can express that, and his arms find their way to embrace the other tightly, his own face buried on the other’s shoulder. “fuck. you’re safe.” even if his breathing is a bit shaky, he hopes the other won’t comment on it. lynx just needs to know his friend is there. the fear ebbs away slowly, the crushing weight of being responsible for kinam’s safety had been almost too heavy to bear. but it’s done — and he can’t be more relieved.
he pulls back, glad that it’s dark, and a grin spreads across his face, albeit dimmer than usual. “let’s get you back, shall we?”
love. a desolation, a small destruction, onethat unweaves the tapestry of guards you put in place around your lungs, tohold yourself together, the slow brick and mortar process it once took toenclose the dragon of your heart safely in confines it needs to survive, nowcrumbling around your ears for something as simple as a look, twin stars burningin the eyes of another, your gaze lost, your prayers ready. love, a hurricane,a wildfire, the uncalled-for demolition of an entire planet around your ankles,unexpected thoughts and ideas and moments flooding through your mind, unstoppable,irredeemable, unquestionable.
you, becoming only a fraction of yourself withoutthem, becoming only half a sentence, half a puzzle piece, half a galaxy, thegreat mystery of the rest of you hidden somewhere between their fingers, somewherebetween their lips. you, once a kaleidoscope and now only monotone, theconstant desire to fill yourself with their light instead of your own, becausesomehow theirs is just so much brighter, so much better, shinier, worthy. you,attempting anything possible to gain their trust, to gain their favor, to gaintheir attentions, desperate to learn more about them, and more and more andmore.
them, the altar of your new religion ( forthis is something spiritual yes, keep your gods, keep your idols, keep your skies—this is something divine beyond measure ), the climax of your story as you evenrealize you are not the main character anymore; everything somehow leading upto this moment. them, made of light, made of gold, made of ether, somethingalmost untouchable, something gorgeous, something perfect even in their imperfections.them, an angel, reaching down into the hell of your life, their hands a gift,each word they lay for you a blessing, each scrap they slide across the tablefor you more than you could ever deserve, more than anything else anyone hasever given you.
and this is holy. love breaks down barriers sothat people can come together, and you come together, and this is warm, andthis is soft, and this is actually a supernova in your chest, the explosions needed,yearned for, coveted. you want them to blind you, you want them to ruin you,make you new, make you whole.
hands pressed tightly together, foreheadsalmost touching, whispers late into the night as you fall asleep wrapped in eachother’s limbs. slow morning kisses and nuzzles, murmurs. days and nights spent withconstant glances, constant excuses for an extra touch, just one more moment ofelectricity between you, just one more shared breath.
love, something beautiful and terrible,stripping you of yourself, waves crashing against a shoreline, battleships lostout at sea. you’re lost out at sea but you don’t realize it until a storm comes,until the walls are not there anymore to protect you because you pulled themdown yourself, remember? love is ripping your ribs open, the bloody mess of youhemorrhaging, crimson and violet sputtering out of you disgustingly as youstick your hand into your own body to retrieve a beating heart. love is puttingthat heart down on the ground, on train tracks, and hoping that the otherperson picks it up in time before the locomotive comes.
love is the way jaewon blinks and swallows asthe girl he’s grown up with, felt convinced they would live with each otherforever, the girl he’s adored enough to travel through space and time to meetwith, introduces him to her new boyfriend, and he decides death in war wouldfeel better than this.
love is the way jaewon knows he shouldn’ttouch, he shouldn’t mar the surface of the thief’s face, either in a punch or akiss, knowing both options would be equally devastating, but unable to overcomegravity itself, the force that holds all things together, the force that holdshim enthralled to the ground, to this boy’s lips, to this verging catastrophe.
love is the way seolhyun had shot jaewonpoint blank in the chest, and as he lay dying, his hand gripping his first mate’sjacket, the words tangle on his tongue as he begs mina not to hurt her, not togo after her.
“Okay... uh... awesome.” Casta started, a little unsure where to even begin with this one. That was no way to dress a wound and would surely invite just a rave of infection-- especially on this ship. “That’s really good and by good, I mean horrible and the worst.”
With a heavy sigh, he sits down beside the other on the bed and takes his hand. “Honestly...” It takes him about two seconds to undo the very uneven and loose gauze. “Do you want to get an infection and lose your hand, Kinam?”
Tsking loudly, he begins wrapping up the cut on the other’s hand the right way. Everyone knew one thing you didn’t mess with was medical related things- especially around Casta.
he hasn’t had that much to drink yet, but then again he’s always been a lightweight and there is little to nothing stopping him from being stupidly drunk. after all, the voice of his conscience has decided to stop talking to him lately, and he doesn’t have very much impulse control without it.
taking a deep breath, he rounds on the other male as if ready to give him a good scolding. “…no.”
and it seems like that is all the reply he’ll give, because he starts pouring himself another glass from the bottle of liquor he keeps at hand.
“no, i do not miss beaumonde, keynom,” he slurs after a moment, as he places the bottle back down on the table, slamming his free hand down too. “why would i ever miss the haze, the dust, the dark, the stench of sweaty people and dirty oil?”
he shakes his head in distaste, then turns away to take another sip. he doesn’t speak of the warmth, the family, the scent of clean oil and the sound of rotaries turning. the loving smile of his parents, the harsh but caring hugs of his sister.
he doesn’t tell the man that it’s not necessarily the planet he misses, but the people.
send me a 💔 for a heartbreaking au : not accepting
our muses arguing
“i’ve already told you everything, what more do you want me to say?”
harper’s voice has risen quite a few bars since this conversation started, and by now it’s not really a conversation anymore but more of a discussion. an argument, perhaps? the thing is, kinam is not listening to her, and no matter what she says or does he’s not trying to do a better job of it either. he just keeps demanding for explanations of what happened to his oh so precious whitney.
“i’m right. here.” she motions at the floor in front of her feet with each word. “what do you want me to say, kinam? a bunch of asshats showed up and beat the crap out of me until i decided that ‘whitney is dead and now the era of harper has started’?” she makes sure to put enough sarcasm in her last words so that he will realise she’s not being serious, because she wouldn’t put it past him to tell her that yes, that is what he wants to hear.
“but what happened?” kinam still insists, and harper damn near wishes it would be socially acceptable to punch him in the nose. that or kick him in the balls. both are good, decent options that will make the younger male do something other than annoy her to death even further. but instead of doing either of those, she simply sighs deeply, drops her head and temporarily closes her eyes.
when she looks back up, it’s with a hardness to her gaze that she so very rarely uses with people she cares about - let alone kinam himself. but something has changed between them now. he has declared the person she is now is no longer good enough, and so harper has decided that in that case, neither should he be so important to her. so here they are, and there she is, with that look in her eyes and a tightness to her jaw. with nothing left to give kinam but cold, hard truth.
“what happened?” she repeats his question, and the anger as well as the volume has left her voice. instead there is a tightness in its place, a softness that is not gentle but lethal instead. “i watched my mother burn like a pire, only she was still alive. then they shot my father as he tried to come to her aid. i had to throw my brother on the first plane out and leave him because they shot me too.”
she lifts her knife and casually starts clearing the dirt from underneath her nails with it, without taking her eyes off kinam. “what happened is that when i finally managed to get off that godforsaken planet in one piece, i needed months of revalidation. i had to change my face because i’d never be able to go back home otherwise. what happens is that i lost my entire family…”
she stops again, and for a moment something breaks through the mask of cold neutrality she’s been keeping up for him. “… including you. and i had to try and go on without everything that had ever been dear to my heart.”
she smiles but there is no mirth there, and the annoyance is instantly back in her voice as she continues. “so if you really need to know what happened to your dear whitney, you ungrateful little shit, it’s that there was no reason for her to stay alive if she could not at the very least get back at the ones that took everything from her.” she suddenly moves her hand again, driving the hilt of the knife about a finger’s width into the table.
“if you so badly want to know what happened to your dear, most precious whitney,” she almost hisses at him then, suddenly moving in so close that their noses are almost touching. “you can just go right ahead and imagine that she was killed by a bullet back on beaumonde. she bled out on your home soil, only a few blocks away from you, and you..” she pauses for emphasis, making sure he’s paying attention to her words. “…did not even have a single clue.”
when she smiles next, there is still no mirth, but triumph instead. the sort of dirty satisfaction anyone shows when they know they’ve driven their point home and hit somewhere that hurts.
“so aren’t you a wonderful friend?”
with that, she leaves him, turning her back on the only boy that has ever been this important to her and leaving him behind in her past, just like she was forced to leave everything else behind.
there are plenty of stars in space, after all.
she doesn’t have to look for them in his eyes anymore.
eyes wandering over her surroundings yet again, harper feels the tightness in her chest grow even stronger as everything is still exactly the same as it was the day before.
she still doesn’t know how she got here. it must have been something in her food. or maybe they managed to sneak into her quarters and spike her drink. she has not been able to figure out the truth yet. all she knows is that one day she was aboard serenity, and the next time she opened her eyes, she was holed up in this windowless room like a prisoner.
not that it’s not a nice room, though. there’s a very luxurious double bed, a sofa to lounge in, a separate bathroom with both bath and toilet, as well as a sink for her to wash. she’s not really a prisoner because she’s got all the necessities, the best food money can buy, even a gorram tv - she doesn’t think she’s even seen one of those in her life, let alone been able to watch anything on one.
but the door never opens. the person behind this entire thing never shows their face. they never tell her what they want, they never respond to her questions, her demands, her begging. she’s not even ashamed to admit she has begged anymore, that’s how long she’s been stuck in this very same room now. that’s how long she has been sitting around wondering, questioning, speculating.
then one morning the door opens. the lock clicks, the hinges creak, and the metal monstrosity is pushed inside, revealing a gap that becomes her first look at anything outside of her new quarters in what feels like forever but is probably only a few weeks at most.
she is not prepared for the sight of kinam stepping into the room, however, nor for the complete lack of emotion his face portrays in those first few moments. still, she can’t help herself, the sight of a familiar face - or perhaps just any face other than her own reflected back at her in every mirroring surface - makes her get up from the couch she was seated on, expression brightening with both relief and surprise.
“kiki!” she breathes out in nothing short of disbelief, and as the name leaves her lips, kinam’s expression shifts. his smile comes easy, but it’s mostly the way the stars reappear in his eyes that calms her down, reassures her that everything is alright.
somehow she should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy. somehow she should have known...
but he approaches her and she wraps him in a tight hug, both protective and relieved, both making sure he’s alright as making sure she’s still alright. the way his arms wrap around her as well is more than familiar, and she allows herself to temporarily disappear in the strength of them, in the warmth that belongs to him and him alone. she breathes in his scent, that mixture of things she has come to associate with him now that he’s grown, and a smile automatically forms on her lips.
“whitney,” he speaks in a soft voice, a warm voice, a voice filled with love. and in that moment she has not the heart nor the will to tell him it’s no longer a name she uses. she does not care what he names her, or perhaps she even prefers this reminder of old times in this current moment. so she merely hums her agreement and buries her face in his neck. there’s a sigh coming from him, chest heaving and falling with the air - and harper along with it. she breathes out a smile, just as he speaks again. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.”
she remembers a time when she might have been the one to speak those words, but oh how the tables have apparently turned since then. still, it’s not like she really minds. it’s not like she really has a problem with him taking care of her for a change. not right now.
“i’m so glad you’re here,” she says, and for a second there, she doesn’t attempt to play it cool. for a second she doesn’t attempt to be the bigger one, the stronger one, the one who’s in control. she just relaxes in his embrace and enjoys the proximity. but she can’t do it for long. she can’t forget for very long where they are and what’s going on. so soon enough she lets go of him ever so slightly. she feels his arms release their hold a little in return, but they don’t really come from around her. and if she’s honest she doesn’t exactly mind.
“what’s going on, kiki? how did you find me? what happened? where are we?” her gaze catches his and for a moment she feels like maybe something is not entirely right, but then he smiles again, warm and reassuring and she can’t help but smile back.
“noona,” he says, and the familiar sound of that title softens whatever’s left of her worries, her hand automatically moving to gently run fingers through his hair like she used to do so many years ago.
“yes, kiki?” she decides to say, just like she used to do back then, too.
“it’s alright,” he tells her once more, and she nods her head because she believes him now. because how could she not believe him when he looks at her so warmly, stands so relaxed and looks so much like he’s got everything under control? “you don’t have to be so worried. you’re home now. we’re home. it’ll all be okay now, noona.”
she freezes.
every instinct she has tells her that this is not right. every hair on her body stands on edge in that long moment of silence after kinam’s voice fills the air. she’s just looking at him, and he’s still smiling that warm, reassuring smile. and she has no idea what to think of it anymore. of any of it.
“home?” she inquires, the confusion audible in her voice. “what do you mean, home? kinam, i... we’ve gotta get back to the serenity, to jaewon and the others. we-”
she sees the frown appear - feels the way he stiffens, muscles tightening - before he even has a chance to interrupt her, and so she goes quiet again. because it is so very unlike him. because it is so strange for kinam to make an expression like that at her. especially when she hasn’t done or said anything wrong that she’s aware of. slowly allowing her lips to close again, she quietly looks at the male opposite of her, searching his eyes, his expression, his stance, for any hint of what is going on.
“you should forget about that, whitney,” he tells her, and suddenly his voice is no longer nice. “forget about her. you’re not some harper. you’re home now. we’re home now. you can be whitney again. you don’t have to keep pretending.” she frowns in turn, deeply, then tries to take a step back but kinam’s arms don’t budge. suddenly she feels trapped, kept in a hold she is not entirely sure she is okay with being in anymore.
“kinam, what...?”
he takes hold of her face, one hand on each side, that smile reappearing on his features again like there is nothing wrong. like it’s totally normal for them to be here, for him to have said words like that. and all of a sudden the warmth begins to feel cold, and the care she sees brings with it a sinister sort of vibe.
“i’ll show you, noona. i’ll show you that it’s all better now.”
he takes hold of her hand, pulls her along with him to the door, and she’s too stunned - too worried about him - to put up a fight. and so he leads her into a hallway that she thought would have had knocked out or killed guards, but there is no one there. a few more intricate twists and turns bring her through the hallways and up several sets of stairs, until he pushes open a door and she suddenly finds herself out on a rooftop, looking out at the smog of a filthy planet.
kinam comes to a stop near the edge of the roof, then waves his free arm out, motioning at the entirety of her view on the city. an all too familiar view of decades past, when the building was a lot more degraded and their lives a lot more simple. she takes in the sight almost breathless with surprise, then tilts her head ever so slightly so she can look at kinam again. her childhood friend, the one boy she has loved well beyond her heart’s regular capacity, the only person she would ever have considered maybe coming back here for.
but not like this.
“kinam...” is all she manages to say, before he’s back at her side. and somehow they’re kissing in the next moment, his lips against hers like a demand and a plea all rolled up into one. it takes her a moment to realise his arms have come around her again, pulling her in, hands roaming like she might have at some point wanted them to do. but not like this. not... here.
she pulls away harshly, frowning deeply. “kinam, what in the verse is going on? why are we back on beaumonde? you know i can’t be here. we have to go back. they need us on serenity. you’re the pilot, you’re important. you love piloting, remember? and what about the others? what about lynx? yongsun?”
the frown returns, along with a flicker of frustration that disappears before it can full well establish, but she spots it anyway. he draws in a sharp breath, and harper feels herself automatically shrinking. not physically, but something inside of her cowers away. and she knows nobody will ever believe it, because harper lee is not afraid of anything, but the thing is; she holds no aversion to maiming or killing anyone who might want to harm her. but she knows she could never hurt kinam. so if he plans to hurt her here on this rooftop in the middle of their home planet with no one to be any the wiser for it; she knows she will let him.
“like i said, noona, you should just forget about them. they’ll be fine without us. they can take care of themselves. i brought you home, so you don’t have to pretend anymore. you can let go of everything now. it’s all okay again.”
for a long, long moment, harper keeps her gaze level with kinam’s, just looking at him, still searching for some explanation. and then, when she finally catches it, that sparkle of what it is that drives him, she averts her gaze to the floor. tears well up in her eyes as she slowly moves, pulling back from his hold on her face ever so lightly so she can take hold of his hands with hers instead. she gives his fingers a little squeeze, holding on for another second or two, then turns suddenly and makes a run for the edge of the roof, throwing herself over it.
she collides with an invisible shield of sorts, that bounces her right back onto the rooftop. as she collides with the stone rather harshly, she can still perfectly hear the disappointment in kinam’s sigh, before everything temporarily blacks out.
~*~
when she wakes up, she’s back in the same room as before, lying on the bed, carefully tucked in with the blanket. she blinks a few times, then carefully tilts her head, shifting her position to be able to look around the room. there’s no one with her, so she slowly heaves herself upright, wincing at the bruises she can basically feel all over her body. lifting a hand to run her fingers through her hair, she slowly breathes out a deep sigh.
before she can do anything else, the already familiar sound of the lock clicking open sounds in her ears and she looks up hesitantly to watch kinam enter the room with a platter of food in hand. upon seeing her awake, his expression instantly brightens into that warm, caring smile again.
“you’re awake!” he chimes, and she has to remind herself that it’s not like old times, that she can’t just let his demeanour fool her, because she is in no way in a good place right now. but she’s too used to his smile, to feeling happy when he walks into the room, that it’s hard to keep herself from smiling back at him. “i brought you some food, noona. you should eat better, i’m starting to be worried about your well-being.”
somewhere in the back of her mind there is a comment waiting to be made about how crashing into a solid cement roof isn’t very good for her well-being, and neither is being held captive, but the words never make it past her lips. she could never bear to see him lose the smile on his face because of her. she could never bear hurting him.
she looks down at the platter, eyes instantly singling in on the knife, fingers itching to grab it and fight her way to freedom. but as she lifts her eyes back up to kinam’s face, she cannot. she cannot put her own happiness above his, not even now when it’s clear that there is nothing sane left anymore about the boy with stars in his eyes.
“it looks delicious, kiki,” she says in a soft voice, sending him a small smile and reaching out a hand to put it on his. “i’m sure i will love it. thank you.”
it’s all it takes for kinam to start positively beaming at her, eyes sparkling with the stars of the entire universe in them it seems, and a hand coming up to stroke through her hair once. she closes her eyes temporarily at the gesture, and allows herself a moment to pretend the circumstances are better than what they are. that things are the way they used to be. that whatever drove her precious boy over the edge never happened at all.
that when she opens her eyes she can just get up and go wherever she’d like.
then she opens them and faces reality.
~*~
whitney sits on the bench, with kinam’s head rested in her lap. his eyes are closed and she is carefully threading through his hair, fingertips brushing his scalp in soothing motions, as she watches the world beyond the rooftop slowly shift to darker shades as the sun slowly descends below the horizon - all behind the impenetrable cover of the smog and clouds, of course.
her muscles are relaxed and there’s a little smile playing around her lips, one that only widens slightly when kinam’s eyes open to look at her. he smiles back instantly, bringing up a hand to tenderly touch her cheek, before he moves to sit up. she expects the way he leans in, easily mirroring the movement to meet him halfway and kiss him softly. her hand brushes through his hair one last time before she lets go of him, allowing him to stand.
“i’ll get us something to eat, darling,” he says and she gives a nod of her head, watching him leave with a warm smile on her face. she rises to stand herself, walking closer to the edge of the roof and leaning against the invisible barrier to get a better view of the city below. her eyes wander over the people heading home from work, over the regular hustle and bustle of a living city.
it’s been so long now since she’s been looking down at it like this that she’s almost forgotten what it used to be like to walk around down there. almost.
as she stands there, soft smile still gracing her features out of habit, it suddenly hits her again like a wave crashing over her, drowning her with a desperate longing to walk the streets. a desperate longing to be free. the sensation is so sudden and overwhelming that there are tears rolling down her cheeks before she is even fully aware of them, her hands automatically coming up to cover her face.
with the warmth of kinam’s presence gone, she suddenly feels alone, remembering all the people she hasn’t been able to see in so long. all the people who have not a single clue what happened to her, if she is even alive at all, probably. she thinks of yongsun, of octavia, of lynx, of haneul. she thinks of mina, of kafka, of jaewon, of henry.
her dear brother. her friends. the people she cares for. the people he has taken away from her.
she doesn’t even know if any of them are still alive by now.
and she realises she can’t do it anymore.
when the door opens again behind her, she turns around. kinam’s expression instantly turns into worry at the sight of her tear-stricken face, and he hurries over to her in an instant.“whitney, darling, what’s wrong? what happened?”
she looks at him in silence for a long moment, feeling suddenly empty, void of emotion.
“it’s been long enough,” she says, surprised by the neutrality of her own tone. “it’s been long enough, kinam.” her shoulders relax as she reaches out a hand and almost casually picks one of the dining knives off his platter. “i've given you the life you wanted, but it ends here. i am not your darling. i am not whitney..” her fingers clench around the knife so tightly her knuckles turn white. “my name is harper, it’s been harper for a long time. and i’m not a pet for you to keep in captivity.”
she takes a step back, watches the way the frown forms on his face again, the way he puts the platter down calmly, no hurry in his movements because he considers the knife too blunt to do actual damage.but he has not yet dealt with an assassin before, of course. definitely not with one as highly trained as her.
“whitney, i thought we left this behind us, you...”
“left this behind us? that’s my entire life you’re talking about, kiki. my friends, my family.” she shakes her head, squares her feet, straightens her shoulders. “it’s been enough. it’s been long enough. i know you won’t let me go, so i’ll just have to do it myself.”
the frown grows deeper, kinam’s gaze darkening. the stars have disappeared from his eyes a long time ago, she realises now. the boy she used to love is nowhere to be found in this outline of a man she doesn’t even recognise anymore.
“that’s ridiculous, whitney, you’re not going to hurt me with that knife, you know that as well as i do. it’s me! i--”
“my name is harper now, kinam.”
she smiles almost sadly, mourning the boy she used to know, mourning the life she could have lived. then she lifts the knife with aimed precision.
