today is my birthday and i was imagining how would bf!theo be like on this day. let me know your thoughts!!!
Theodore had never been one to care much for his birthday. The date had long since lost its meaning, hollowed out in the wake of his mother’s passing. Once, when he was small, Phoena had turned his birthdays into something magical — grand affairs filled with laughter and color. There were themed decorations of his choosing, mountains of sweets that left him giddy, and a parade of toys that would lose their charm within a week, save for one: a small enchanted car she had gifted him years before. Its vibrant blue and red hues caught his boyish fascination, and he adored the way it zoomed and spun through the halls of their home like it had a life of its own.
But after she left — after she died — the day dulled. The colors faded. And his father never so much as pretended to notice the date, much less mark it with any significance.
Yet your birthday was another matter entirely.
Theodore made your day a sacred ritual. Not because you ever asked him to. In fact, you’d never spoken of it at all. But he noticed — the way your eyes sparkled a little brighter as the month approached, how your voice carried an extra lilt of joy, the quiet anticipation that clung to you like a scent. You came alive in the weeks before your birthday, and Theodore, ever attuned to the softest shifts in your being, found himself treasuring that day more than he’d ever cared to admit about his own. Because it was your day — the day the world was given you. And if there was anything in this life worth celebrating, it was that.
So, as was becoming tradition, he spent the quiet hours before dawn in the kitchen, sleeves rolled, wand tucked behind his ear, and the scent of chocolate curling warm through the air. He baked with quiet reverence, decorating the cake in shades of your favorite color, every movement meticulous. He’d always loved cooking — a quiet kind of love he inherited from his mother — and though he cooked for you often, preparing all the Italian recipes he imagined you’d adore, there was something uniquely sacred in the act of baking. He followed the worn pages of his mother’s old recipe book to the letter, as if by doing so he might call her presence into the room beside him.
When the sky began to pale, Theodore slipped into your dormitory with a whispered “Alohomora,” wand in one hand and the cake in the other. He crossed the room softly, placed the cake on your bedside table, and climbed into bed beside you — still wrapped in sleep — pressing kisses to your face and murmuring a half-sung version of the birthday tune against your temple. He wasn’t one for grand displays of affection — in fact, he often found them cloying, almost theatrical. But with you, especially behind closed doors, his restraint unraveled. You craved words of affirmation, and on this day, he gave them freely, poured them into your skin like honey.
And that was only the beginning.
With each passing hour, he presented you with a new gift — carefully chosen things that reminded him of you: jewelry that caught the light like your eyes did, books he’d seen you eyeing in the library, clothes in the shades he thought looked best on you. He took you to your favorite restaurant, watched the way you smiled over your plate, and handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers — fresh, dewy, and impossibly fragrant. His kisses were sweet and unhurried, stolen between courses, placed at your hairline, your knuckles, the edge of your jaw.
He gave you letters, too. Long ones. Ink-stained pages scrawled in his slanted hand, filled with the things he couldn’t always say aloud — not out of fear, but because some corners of his heart were harder to reach than others. He pressed the sealed envelopes into your hands with instructions to read them only when you were alone, when the world was still and soft and quiet enough for truth.
As twilight approached, he laced his fingers through yours and led you to the Astronomy Tower — your favorite place in all of Hogwarts. There, as the horizon bloomed in shades of violet and flame, he stood behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his chest warm against your back. You watched the sky as if it were a story unfolding just for you.
Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a small black box.
Inside, nestled on dark velvet, was a butterfly hair clip crafted from rose gold. It gleamed in the dying light, delicate and luminous — clearly well-loved, though not new. “It was my mum’s,” he said softly, his chin resting on your shoulder, his cheek brushing yours. “She gave it to me before… you know. Told me to give it to the girl I’d love.”
You turned to him, tears brimming, and kissed him — long, grateful, trembling with emotion. You whispered your thanks into his mouth, over and over, and he knew — he knew — he’d made the right choice. That he was holding in his arms the only person who’d ever made him believe in softness again. It felt, sometimes, like his mother had sent you to him — stitched you into his path with threads only the stars could trace. And when he spoke to her at night, he thanked her for that. For you.
Later that night, he told you to dress up — to wear something you liked. You didn’t ask why. You didn’t need to. What you didn’t know was that, days earlier, Theodore had pulled together every string he could. In a forgotten room tucked deep within the castle — one that Mattheo and Blaise had transformed into a kind of sacred hideaway — he’d arranged a surprise party. There were floating candles and garlands of charm-glittered ribbon, another decadent cake, and your closest friends gathered to celebrate you with laughter, drinks, and music echoing off the stone.
And when it all wound down, he brought you back to his room — not to end the day, but to mark it in the most intimate way he knew.
He made love to you gently, reverently. As if every part of you was something holy. His hands found every place you ached for him, coaxed you apart and back together again, until you were gasping his name and trembling beneath him. The whole time, he stayed close, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your collarbone, your fingertips — murmuring all the things he needed you to know. And when it was over, when you were warm and clean and tucked into his side, sleep heavy on your lashes, he stayed awake just to look at you. His fingers traced patterns on your back, slow and absent, as if trying to memorize the shape of you.
"Ever imagined a world where… we didn’t get to experience the things that hurt us?"
Love On The Red Target | YT Teaser
───── ❝ summary ❞ ─────
' We're the same. '
With a troubled past, one of FNC's greatest has fallen from grace after such sloppy work. Leaving Milan, the Poetesse returns to Seoul to redeem herself, guided by her equal. A thorn on the first day; a rose on the next.
But as love deepens further, chaos just can't stop coming in between.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ chapters ⋅.} ────── ⊰
i'd rather go solo. | oh? we're engaged actually.
we're the same. | let me save you.
you crossed the line.
SYNOPSIS: The breakup was almost a year ago, but he still can’t forget you. It’s very much expressed through the song he produces and posted out of impulse, secretly hoping that you’ll listen to it.
WORD COUNT: 3K.
WARNINGS: hinting that the reader is a cold person (even though they’re not), one cuss word. In the song, the artist uses the she/her pronouns but the reader’s gender is never specified. Not much tbh but it can be a bit emotionally draining. Mentioning Shota as the MVP friend (thx q 💪🏻).
INSPIRED BY: LESSON (โค้ชลงเล่น) BY YUNGTARR.
A/N: well…. I’m not so proud of writing these short stories instead of working on the ones for my series but my brain is not working. Also I deeply apologize if the translated lyrics are not correct. I use google translate for it.
reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!
In the dimming room of a small studio room, there sits Taeyang, whose headphone is glued to his ears while his eyes cannot tear itself away from a folder that has only one song in there.
He is hesitating, rather more anxious than anything combined as he clicks on google, then looks at the opening tab, displaying his YouTube channel with over 360K subscribers on the site of YouTube studio.
He knows it’ll be a bad idea, a terrible idea even. His mind screams at him to not do it, but the need of expressing his honest feelings is eating him up.
Normally, when his friends ask him how he has been doing, he’ll simply answer with the usual ‘I’m fine.’ but he knows he’s far from being okay. The breakup with you has been hard, even though it was a mutual agreement that you guys are better off not being partners and parted ways on neutral terms that is. Everyday since then, he feels like he doesn’t want to live anymore because he regrets that decision so much.
He should’ve stopped you.
Just like how he should’ve stopped himself from uploading the new song onto the YouTube channel where you can obviously see that. Heck, he thinks you’d think he’s weird for still being unable to get over you.
But too late for that as the new video ‘THEO - Ringin’ Ur Line (Official Audio)’ being posted and he just sighs in defeat, realizing that he makes such a fool of himself with the way he didn’t think of making the video unlisted or even private before it uploads onto the account.
And at the same time, you’re mindlessly scrolling through some apps when you see a notification from the channel called ‘THEO’ uploading a new song pops up on the screen. As much as you pretend not to care, you click onto it, ready to get your heartbroken, knowing that he most likely will never mention or even talk about you in his songs.
Who would get over someone who makes music and especially a catchy one anyway?
But what surprises you is the fact that he makes the song and sings with his own voice in this one, mainly because he’s a music producer. Although his appearance screams very ‘celebrity-like’ due to how good looking he is, he claims that he just wants to lead a normal life with no pressure that comes between his personal life and professional life. He chooses to work behind the spotlight and produces some of the greatest hits for well-known names in the industry. Never once does he put his own personal works out like this.
So what changes?
You sit up to hear the lyrics and observe the song more carefully.
และสุดท้ายรักมันคืออะไร baby เธอตอบฉัน
And finally, what is love? Baby, you answer me.
You scoff at the thought of him having someone new he might be possibly singing about. Clearly, he wouldn’t really sing about you, would he?
บทเรียนสุดท้ายและครั้งที่สองเธอไม่พลาดพลั้ง
The last and second lesson, she didn't fail.
You wonder what he could possibly refer to. What does he mean with this exactly? Love lesson that gives him the kind of pain that is unforgettable?
It’s your cue to go because it’s not even about you.
You feel pathetic for ever assuming that it was about you, the person he sang about. You feel foolish and you’re mad at yourself for that. The cold wind doesn’t help much with warming your body either.
Somehow, you continue to listen because of the charming lyrics and melodies.
เธอตั้งใจทำอย่างนั้น
She did that on purpose.
เธอตั้งใจให้ผมเจ็บ
She intended to hurt me.
You wonder which girl really hurt him and how she managed to do so. Deep down, you wish to have the same effect that whoever did to him in this song.
You sigh as you continue listening.
baby เธอเองก็รู้ว่าใจดวงนี้มันสามารถซ้ำ
baby, you know that this heart can repeat itself.
เธอหยุดได้มั้ย baby ถือว่าผมขอร้อง
Can you stop, baby? Consider that I'm begging you.
Taeyang looks at the time on his phone and realizes something, he’ll forever sit alone and let you slip away from his life for good if he didn’t do something tonight.
He needs you in his life. He needs your love. He doesn’t want to continue to imagine the way you could only say those ‘i love you's' that his brain could only replay of the way you said it so much in the past that it deeply engraved in his mind like a clockwork.
He doesn’t want his heart trembling at the way you look so beautiful in the well kept polaroid of you two in his wallet anymore. He is done with torturing and lying to himself.
Grabbing his car keys, he impatiently waits for the engine to start working and looks around for the blind spots to make sure that the parking spot is empty before driving away.
pretend ว่าตัวผม strong
Pretend that I'm strong
ในสิ่งที่ทุกๆวันขณะในใจผมเจ็บขนาดนั้น
For something that every day in my heart hurts that much
He stops at a flower shop, owned by one of his good friends, Shota. Shota has a talent in rearranging flowers, although he wouldn’t need to utter a word for the customers to roll in because he’s adorable. Taeyang remembers that his first flower ever given to you was from Shota’s flower shop and now that he wants to reconcile you both, he figures that he should do that too.
He pants, upon the hurried travel to his friend’s store. Shota eyes him blankly, but continues to say nothing, waiting for the other person to speak first.
“I need a flower that says forever love. Not roses, obviously.”
“Was that for Y/N?” He questions, although he already knows the answer.
“How do you know that?”
“You can pretend that you’re fine and be strong for our sake, although you’re not really. You still think of them.”
Was the pain so obvious that even Shota, who normally just doesn’t comment and not caring about things most of the time can see?
He really realizes that you’re his better half.
And as for you, you find yourself relating to the lyrics he sings in this song. You truly dislike how reflective it is to your state of mind because you’ve been pretending you’re strong and you’re not hurting everyday.
Both of yours and his heart are aching for one another, wanting to belong as one again.
แค่เห็นที่ต้องเจ็บซ้ำ
Just seeing it hurts again.
เป็นเธอไม่มีสายใยแม้ไม่มีเธอเองก็ไม่ต่างกัน
It's you, there's no connection, even without you, it's no different.
There’s something you can never admit to your friend or anybody else. You’re ashamed to still confess out loud that you’re thinking of your ex boyfriend and that you read both of your text messages with each other.
You can’t understand it. Why can’t you get him out of your mind if he’s not exactly the most ideal man there is?
You sigh, it’s truly unpleasant to be having these late night thoughts where it betrays what you stand for.
Similarly to Taeyang, who also does look at the text messages you both shared, but with a different thought.
He used to take you for granted, but with you gone, he realizes that he had a gem but he was too blind by his own insecurities.
And if there’s no you, then nothing will make sense to him anymore.
“Hyung, your flower is ready.” Shota places the flower on the table, in front of where Taeyang keeps zoning out. The producer grabs the flower, amazed that the younger florist chooses pink asters, knowing that it represents eternal love, innocence and devotion for a person you deeply care about. He then stands up, slams the 10$ and 20$ on the table and screams out before exiting the shop.
“I know you’re gonna charge me 25$ but just accept 30$. Keep the change.”
Shota just shakes his head, sighing before going back to work.
I think about everyday, baby we used to talk.
Now you run away.
But baby I'm still walk.
Driving as fast as he can, he makes it his mission to place his vehicle in a place he knows it all too well. Nighttime has never looked more unexpected and almost scary to him because he can’t predict what is going to happen next. He can only hope that the music he mistakenly and might be posted under the influence of his idiocy conveys what he truly feels about the seperation.
Just only a month and 19 more days until it’ll be marked since a year you both break up. But yet in those days before it approaches, you occupy his thoughts every day and night.
Frankly, you’re the first and last thing he thinks of every single day.
He’s thanking the universe that he didn’t just crash and die right here with the way he’s speeding to you.
คิดถึงแต่โทรหาไม่ได้
I miss you but can't call.
อยากจะเรียกเธอมาช่วยเชียร์แต่ว่ามันทำไม่ได้
I want to call her to cheer me up but I can't.
Whenever he’s having a hard time, he wants to call you. But he can’t.
Whenever he’s happy, he can’t also call you.
And whenever he thinks of you, he can’t do that because you guys are not together anymore.
He wants to hear your voice, soothing his worries or cracking some jokes and laughing out so delightfully.
This trip to your house might be the last time he’ll get to see you. Or his wants will finally be granted.
Baby เธอตั้งใจ broke heart
Baby, you accidentally broke my heart.
You’re supposed to hate him, with the way he sings in this song. This line, a particular line, just like he said, it accidentally breaks your heart into pieces too.
You’re gritting your teeth in anger, were you never that important to him?
Had he never loved you enough that his heart could possibly break at the thought of you, of this too?
Were you the only one feeling this way?
You feel really start to resent him. God, what a fucking scumbag.
The love has never been reciprocated, so why can’t you let the thought of him completely slip out of your mind?
ย้ายความเจ็บปวดเข้าไปที่ broke heart
Move the pain into a broken heart
It’s only around 10 minutes, if without speeding up, until he’ll be at your door, making a fool of himself, without knowing if you still want him back. He doesn’t know if you’re seeing someone new. Because if you do, that flower in the passenger seat that he is meaning to give it to you will be left to rot, as a proof of his undying love.
He doesn’t think that he can ever move past the pain of not having you if the rejection comes through.
I'm still ทิ้งลงถังมันไม่ได้ baby
I'm still can't throw it in the bin, baby.
ทำลงไม่ได้ baby
Can't do it, baby.
Standing in front of the trash bin, you’re facing the most difficult of your life; whether to throw or not to throw every polaroid of you both together.
The song keeps playing, you’re holding 6 polaroids of you and him, which are taken on his birthday. There was a whip cream on his nose that he didn’t bother to wipe before taking the photos because he wanted to look cute and have fun, which you let him. It’s one of the fondest memories, out of every celebration you both had done together and you’re about to throw it away.
But your hand freezes, gripping onto those small pieces of pictures a bit too tightly.
And what happens if you throw it away? Would it only exist in your memories now with no physical evidence? Is that what you’re looking for?
And would you be happy to only have events that exist in your heart now?
What good would it do if you do anyway? You’d still continue to see the ghost of him everywhere you turn.
You can’t throw it away, you really can’t.
มันตัดใจไม่ได้ baby
I can't get over it, baby.
He can’t get over your smile, your voice, your personality, humor or you.
He almost feels sorry for himself that he acts like this, let alone letting you know how he feels.
It’s what he thinks as his car has come to a stop, safely parking itself in an open space era. He then opens the car door, holding the flower bouquet to his chest before closing it and locking the car door.
Something in your mind tells you to stop standing still and keep the polaroids hidden away if you’re not gonna throw it, burn it or even destroy it.
So you listen to your guts as you gently tuck your upper lips, anxious and confused on why did you back out on it last minute.
You know the answer way too well to that question. But you didn’t want to accept it.
เพราะผมรักจะตาย baby
Because I love you to death, baby.
“Ding!”
Your doorbell rings, startles you out of your trance when you’re so busy putting the polaroids back into a hidden box.
You’re confused on who would come to your door this late at night. It’s almost midnight, just only roughly 19 minutes to be exact as you look at the time displayed on the digital clock.
A gut feeling tells you that you might need to open the door as it’ll reveal the answer to everything you’ve been hoping for.
You’ll regret it if you don’t.
Most importantly, you’re hoping it’s him who is behind that door, ringing your doorbell, asking you to be back in his life. But you shake your head at the ridiculousness before you stand up, taking slow steps to get to the door. Your palm grips tightly onto that doorknob, not knowing if you want to do so.
และสุดท้ายรักมันคืออะไร baby เธอตอบฉัน
And finally, what is love? Baby, you answer me.
Is the last phrase you hear before your phone dies. You sigh as you twist the doorknob and you’re met with the man you thought you’d never get to meet again.
Choi Taeyang standing in front of you. With a bouquet of pink asters in his hands.
He wears a white sweater for tonight, a casual look but it makes him look almost breathtaking because he is simply the most beautiful guy you’ve ever known. He looks anxious, not knowing what to say at first as he hands you the asters and you gladly accept it.
“Did you hear my new song?”
The question catches you off guard. Because what game does he want to play now?
“I do.” You nod, face lack of any expression, opposite to the male in front of you who looks unsure and almost on the verge of tears. You can sense the anxiousness radiating off him but you choose not to ask about it.
“Well- what do you think about it?” He looks at you, hoping you’d respond to it differently than you do now, because it’ll kill him if you continue to be standoffish like that.
“It’s nice.”
“The song… it’s about you.” He confesses, observing the way your eyebrows quirk in confusion and the gleam in your eyes that plead him to almost repeat whatever he just said.
“Ever since we broke up, it’s never been easy on me. I want to call you so bad but I know you wouldn’t pick up those calls. Every day that I live, the memories of us haunt me so bad, it’s like you intended to hurt me and to make sure that I’ll never get over you. It’s lame that I can’t move on and I’m still in love with you. And now, here, making a fool of myself, asking you to be mine again.”
You stare at him, a bit dumbfounded and losing yourself in the moment that all of this happens in real time and it’s not your imagination anymore. You let each of the phrases that escape his lips sink into your mind and process itself into your brain as you can only admire him, no words being exchanged.
Taeyang is scared, preparing for your rejection already as you go absolutely silent. He could die right now, if not for the fact that he hasn’t heard the final word that determines whether he’ll continue to live in misery or start a new chapter with absolute happiness.
“Y/N, please say something. If you’re gonna reject me, please do it fast!”
“Idiot, I never stopped loving you.” Your face breaks into the biggest grin he has ever seen and every tension and worry just completely escapes from his body.
He takes a step forward to hug you, losing himself in your embrace. He misses your love, your warmth. His home, his livelihood all just connects back to you as he feels like the happiest man in the world.
“Thank god because I thought I’ll live with regret for my entire life.” He mumbles, feeling so content by the physical contact for the first time in months. You try to gently peel yourself off from him, he pouts at you sadly, pleading to be in your embrace for a little longer but before allowing that to continue happening, you scold him.
“Get off of me! What kind of house owner would I be if I let my guest stand outside for this long.”
He smiles, showing off the adorable eye smile that you love so much.
“Is that your way of inviting me inside?”
He teases you back, taking off his shoes as he observes you and every corner of your living space, happy to have you back in his life again.
“Oh shut up before I kick you out.” You give him a stern stare, with your now boyfriend trailing behind you to chill in the living room. He only grins at you teasingly before responding back.
PAIRING. non idol! theo x gn! reader
GENRE. fluff, friends to implied lovers?
WARNINGS. none (lmk if i missed anything!)
WC. 906 words
𓂋˚˖ A/N. i can guarantee you this happened to me when i tried manual for the first time except where is my choi taeyang 😔😔
“THE ENGINE DIED AGAIN,”
“Huh?” you stare at the dashboard in front of you in disbelief as half of the control lights that remained ‘on’ burn into your soul once again. “But I swear, I hardly even moved my foot!” Giving up, you let your hands fall on your seat with a thump.
“That’s the fifth in the past 30 minutes,” Taeyang tries to announce as blankly as he could but failing as you knew he was trying so hard to keep his laughter in.
“Why did you suddenly want to learn how to drive anyway? Let alone a manual car. You could just do automatic if you really wanna drive,” Even if you weren’t looking at him, you can feel Taeyang’s eyes trained on your defeated figure.
When you suddenly asked him a few days ago to teach you how to drive, he was surprised to say the least. It was only a few weeks ago when you confidently stated that you had zero plans of learning how to operate a car, saying you wanted to take your time with “adulting” and “growing up”. And yet, here you were, behind the steering wheel of none other than Taeyang’s own manual car, which he really just borrowed from his parents.
Now, looking at you in this state, determined yet almost on the verge of breaking down, reminds him of when he himself attempted to drive this very same car a few months ago. He knows exactly how you’re feeling in the moment, but he can only really smile in faux sympathy and try his best to keep you from losing all your sanity on the wheel.
“Because,” you whine exasperatedly, prolonging the ‘s’ a little too long. “I’m big now. Almost everyone I know is taking lessons or has a license already. And they all said learning manual first would be more beneficial than auto,” you pause before you continue. “And stick shift drivers are cool,”
“So you’re saying I’m cool?”
Even if your head was facing your lap, he doesn’t miss the smile that grows on your face as you slip one of your hands from being trapped between your head and the wheel and slap his arm, causing his teasing smile to let out his signature laugh.
“When did I say you weren’t?” you giggle, unsure of what your friend was trying to get at.
Your head still leaning on your hands, you turn towards Taeyang, who’s still looking at you with a face that lets you know you have his full attention. Taking his silence as a cue to continue, you lean back again on your seat and look forward outside the windshield at nothing in particular.
“Plus I saw my schedule for this sem and talked to my parents about it. No one can really take me to campus coz it’s out of the way, and they don’t want me to take public transpo yet since I’d be going alone,”
“I’m literally right here,” You turn towards Taeyang again, whose face has become as serious as it can get, and frown in confusion, prodding him to elaborate. “I can drive you around; we literally go to the same uni,”
“You know I can’t ask you to do that. My house is farther from the campus than yours is,”
He just shrugs as he looks away from you. “So? I’d gladly do it anyway,”
“What if I have to go somewhere after classes? Or what if you’re in class and you can’t be my personal driver?”
His gaze focuses on whatever he was looking at outside the window as if he’s thinking over what you just suggested.
“Okay, point taken,” He turns back to you and slaps his hands on his thighs, giving up on trying to come up with other options for you for the time being. “Then I guess we’re both stuck here,”
You face the road in front of you once again as you take a deep breath and sigh. If you were being honest, you had no issues being stuck learning how to drive a manual car as long as Taeyang was the one who would teach you and also watch you commit the beginner mistakes—but you would never admit that out loud to him.
Taeyang chuckles as he watches you start the engine again and step on the clutch, taking you through every step and saying words of encouragement in between.
After another hour of trying to drive, you finally manage to get the car moving without the engine dying and even drive around your neighborhood in second gear. He commented how he didn’t even get to the second gear on his first time, which definitely made you feel better. Once you felt you had enough driving for one day, both of you switched seats, and he took you to your and his favorite ice cream shop as a reward for today’s lesson, mood switching up by the hundreds and mind completely off cars and driving.
The next day, Taeyang arrives with his car at the same time as the previous day and quickly transfers to the front passenger seat. The moment you come jogging out your door and into the car, you immediately announce, “Okay so I’ve been thinking, and you know what, I take it back. I’m not doing manual ever again.”
Drew this in MS Paint at 11 PM with my mom telling me to go to sleep while looking at Errorink fanart on Tumblr.
Huh, never realized MS Paint is kinda fun for that black cell shading style I have... then again, the last time I touched this program was when I made fanart of my MLP OCs using bases
' We're the same. '
With a troubled past, one of FNC's greatest has fallen from grace after such sloppy work. Leaving Milan, the Poetesse returns to Seoul to redeem herself, guided by her equal. A thorn on the first day; a rose on the next. But as love deepens further, chaos just can't stop coming in between.
The first week of work was fine. Not boring but a little underwhelming. Theo and I are pretty close to the culprit, and I can't keep my excitement away. Is that unusual?
Today is Saturday. I have been sitting alone in the living room ever since I came out of the shower. Living alone is something I miss these days, but that doesn't mean that I'd rather have Theo out of this flat, huh… On second thought, I actually would rather have all the time to myself than have him around.
Sure, he's an insightful partner, but I can't pretend that I could stand him and his weird principles. Call me a hypocrite for it, but really? No socks over the coffee table? Come on, they're squeaky clean! I’m not as dirty or disorganized as he thinks I am.
Just as I thought I’d have all the time to myself, the door of his room creaked open as his feet tapped across the wooden floorboards, heard loud and clear. “... You’re up?” Theo uttered, his voice deeper than before, as I turned around, waving my hand at him as a good morning.
“Yeah, I’ve got plans today,” I said, later munching on the spoonful of milk and cereal as he hummed back, making his way straight to the kitchen. “I’ll meet a friend.”
All of a sudden, the shuffling sounds that came from the kitchen cupboards stopped as he slowly turned around, facing me from behind while I watched the news on the TV screen. “You have friends? I thought it was just Keeho,” he joked, making me look back at him with a rather annoyed pout, causing him to raise both of his hands in the air as if he were being arrested. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I have any friends… at all.”
The two of us laughed at his words as I shifted the rest of me to the side of the couch, giving him enough space. I guess the acting week did pay off since we’ve gotten closer. I mean, who wouldn’t get closer after those few romantic bits? It’s one of the funniest and most bizarre things I’ve ever done in my three years of being an assassin.
I guess it’ll have to go on for another few days, too. “Which friend are you visiting again?” He asked once more as my mind started to roam around the memories, causing me to get up from the couch to head to the rack, where I hung up Ann’s purse.
As I unzipped the bag, my hand searched for the picture of him – the one that I stole from the orphanage. Pulling it out, I realized how crumpled it already was. Maybe I should’ve kept it in some nicer place, but I couldn’t afford that years before now, unfortunately.
Returning to the leather couch, I handed Theo the photo carefully, not wanting it to form any more folds as he took it from me the same way, slow and cautious. “Who’s he? You two look young here, especially your friend,” he commented, placing the picture on my palm once again. “I’m guessing a lot of time has passed already, huh?”
“M’hm.”
Theo lifted his head from the photo, his lips curling into another small smile again, almost as if he was hiding it from the rest of the world except for me. “You know you have that look on your face that usually means ‘I miss him a lot’, am I right?” The smile on his face grew wider the moment I kept my distance from him, seeing how fascinated he was in causing reactions like this.
“I don’t like your face near mine, okay?” I warned him, crossing my arms as he nodded casually in response, letting out an airy chuckle right after.
“Oh, come on. We’re kinda engaged. This is fine.” His gaze showed patience, anticipating another reaction from me as I almost choked on what he told me. “There she is!” Theo cheered, clapping his hands rapidly with no rhythm whatsoever as I jokingly rolled my eyes back at him.
He’s lucky I’m someone he could joke around with.
Because the last time I worked with a partner, my cheek ended up bruised.
“I’ll let you have your fun, Theo,” I said back with a calmer tone, later getting up from the couch with the empty bowl in my hands. ‘Should I wash the dishes?’ I thought as soon as I was at the sink, I would later shrug to myself before placing the dirty bowl on the sink’s metal surface.
I have plans today. I wouldn’t want to waste my time on this. Maybe Theo could do this for me instead.
“Y/N, can I come with you?”
Well, I don’t think either of us will be able to wash the dishes this time. Turning to look behind, I could see him peek from the couch’s cushions, arms placed above it with a twinkling stare like a child persuading me to buy him some candy. “... It’s a Catholic orphanage. I don’t think you’d like to be there.” My tone was a bit condescending, but this was one of those rare times where I’d take something seriously. I didn’t want any mishaps to happen. Imperfect is fine, but somehow, I want everything to go smoothly for… him.
But it didn’t even faze the young assassin; it only caused him to further push his plump lower lip outwards. “I’ll take anything. Just save me from boredom.”
I don’t have much of a choice. I know this is unreasonable for me. I could’ve told him a single no, but half of me somewhat liked his company, which is the weirdest thing I’ve ever felt in my entire career. Everybody else knows that I’m nothing like this; that my weaknesses are shadowed by this huge ego. Although it's not something for me to be proud of, it’s still a great thing since I’m not easily threatened by anybody else.
I know it resulted in a few injuries, but who survived? Who walked the streets of Milan? Who put a bullet in the mayor of that city? Just me. It’s all just me.
But oh, so many things are changing in milliseconds.
Once all ready, the two of us walked the streets of Seoul, side to side, and watched each other’s backs. Unlike the past few days, I’m letting my hair down. Always putting it up in that stocking cap kind of irritates my scalp a little, so it’s honestly relieving to let it down today, just flowing over my back like a rippling river. Believe it or not, it IS difficult to play a blonde daily, I mean, imagine waking up so early every single day to get ready? It’s not the best part of this whole playing pretend sequence, but I have no choice.
If FNC falls, I fall.
And once I fall, how could I keep up my promise to him?
“I’m looking for Soullie. Is he there?” I leaned forward, trying to see him through the blurry windows behind the staff member, who stood inside the counter. Theo was next to me, dressed in an outfit with better color choices.
Finally, some periwinkle. “Oh, I’ll call him!” The nice HR happily answered back, excusing herself later on as the assassin and I stayed at the lobby nearby.
I remember how depressing it was to be here with no assurance of leaving… The only thing that could make anyone leave this place is once their eighteenth birthday comes up. It’s either that or we get adopted by some couple who wanted to house kids that weren’t theirs to begin with.
And it turns out, my mother's suicide was a big deal to those potential parents I had before.
“... You okay, Y/N?”
“Yeah… Just a lot of memories.”
Looking over to the counter, the HR came out of the back door, already walking next to the boy I was looking for, as I smiled at the sight of him, all good and left without any scratches this time. “Soullie,” I whispered his name, rising from the bench as he sprinted towards me with his arms wide open, welcoming me for a hug. “Oh, I missed you so much!”
“Me too,” he responded softly, later keeping his distance from me to just stare for more than a second at least. “... I thought you wouldn’t show up anymore after you went to Milan.” I couldn’t even think of what I was going to tell him next. Did he think I would leave him for some easy job at Milan? Of course not. How could I leave the only human being I’ve ever cared for?
“No- That would never happen. Why would you think that?” I hugged him once again, tighter than the first one, as the HR smiled at the two of us. I’m just thankful that no one else knows about my job. It’d cause way too much drama with the priests. “I already told you before, I’ll always come back. A promise is a promise, Soul… Besides, I went there so we don’t have to think about the money anymore. For you… For both of us.”
It took me back to those days in the orphanage where I used to be bossed around by the older kids. No wonder they weren’t adopted, because who the fuck would want to take demons in for children? No, thanks. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch, your parents wouldn’t have given you up!” One of those ruthless kids screamed at the rookie, and I could just remember how I tucked my ears behind both ends of the pillow, trying to sleep so furiously.
But God, I couldn’t take it anymore when I heard him cry.
Rubbing off the blur from my eyes, I went down the ladder of the bunk bed, setting my feet on the tiles flat, as my roommates repeatedly warned me not to go after them. “You know what happens when Jaemin sees you fucking around!” Yujin wanted me to remember the way that boy’s knuckles came straight to my face without a warning. It’s a good thing the orphanage still covered our insurance, or I would’ve been living with an uneven nose.
“Well, I can’t sleep and I don’t want to waste time anymore,” I muttered back, making my way to the door as I silently twist the doorknob, not wanting to attract any attention. “If I don’t get back, put sunflowers on my grave. Thanks.”
All of my roommates raised their thumbs, later retreating under their blankets, shivering in fear after Jaemin probably struck another punch at the kid. I knew I had to do something. I can’t let that kid live with any serious injuries.
“I’m the fucking boss here, you hear me?!”
I rested my face against the side of the door, peeking at whatever torture was happening to the newbie as I couldn’t stop myself from barging in. Without a word, I balled up my fist and swung it against the boy’s face, blood dripping from his nose in less than a second.
“Shut the fuck up.” I was sweating, both nervous and frustrated at him and his group of friends, but none of them even tried to fight back. I always asked myself why they decided to leave us alone, but now, I finally understood why: It was the first time someone from the “losers” fought back.
“Are you okay? Let’s get you to the nurse.”
“W- Who are you?”
There was a moment of silence and confusion before I could even say my name to him, which led me to find out that he must’ve been a foreigner since those words didn’t sound natural at all. “I’m Y/N… You?”
“Soul.”
Those three years with him were something that I never thought I’d get to experience again. I was sixteen and he was barely a teen when we met. It was like every time we hung out after a fight with those boys or the rude canteen staff, I was fixing my childhood; the inner child that I didn’t pay much attention to.
I’m not the best at admitting things that pained me, but there are a lot of things I lacked from and whenever I remember them, it always makes me feel as if I didn’t deserve any of it.
But in the end, I was just a child. Maybe now, I don’t deserve to even skip down the streets with a look of victory on my face when the pulse left its body, but if the world decided not to commit arson on me, I wouldn’t have done anything close to what I’m doing now.
“Y/N, please! Don’t leave me!” Soul’s hands were grabbing down my shirt, trying to pull me away from the two staff members who guarded me on my way out. After that one punch I gave Jaemin, my acts of violence refused to slow down. It’s faster. It got more creative over time, but I was never given the chance to have some extension the day I turned eighteen. Let’s just say it’s not the best birthday gift ever. “I’m so sorry, Soullie…” I kept my head down, not even taking a glance at him and the other staff members who prevented him from coming closer to me.
I felt like a monster that day.
And a year later, I turned into one.
“Y/N, can I ask you for something? I hope it doesn’t bother you too much,” Soul asked alongside a comment that caught my attention. The three of us were just talking about that new Spider-Man movie that got released and how we were going to watch it together once Theo and I had done the job. “I’ll be leaving in August and I don’t think I'll be adopted anytime soon… I have nowhere to go-”
“Oh, but you do. I’ll take you in.” I interrupted him, letting him know that I’d let him live with me after this whole orphanage fiasco. Sure, it’ll be a tough time once he realizes how hard it is to be a protected criminal, but no one else would be there for him except for me. That’s not selfish of me. The inside staff here could be shit, especially the ones at the canteen. I don’t know if they even changed the staff, but hopefully, they did because once I find out that they did something to Soul, blood will be on my knuckles again, and I’ll make sure it’s not mine.
“You’d do that for me?”
“To be honest, she’d do anything for you.”
This was one of the moments I’d accept the fact that Theo was right. Soul is my only family, and if I can’t save him, I’d never be able to forgive myself. “Thank you so much, Y/N. I don’t know how I could pay you back for this.” The young boy slightly smiled as if he’d been feeling guilty for asking me about it, which he shouldn’t. He should’ve expected that I would take him in once his extension ends.
“You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough.” I brushed his brunet locks with my fingers gently, just finding him precious.
Yeah, I don’t think he’d be a perfect roommate because he could be too annoying at times, but that’s what family is for. I think shit roommates are the most fun.
Speaking of shit roommates, I’m already trapped with one. “You know, I’m actually adopted.” Theo chuckled, dangling and playing with his spare keys before putting them down on the table next to the door. The two of us decided that it was best for us to come back home once the staff was looking for Soul already. For some reason, visitation hours at Saint Agnes's are worse than jail because once you’re already deep into the conversation, they just come and take away that piece of happiness from the orphan.
“... Wait, you’re not joking?”
“M’hm.”
Theo made his way to the kitchen, opening up the fridge to take the last can of beer for himself as I followed him there. With no shame, I pulled one of the drawers from the counter, smiling at him before taking one of the glass straws he bought from Rhodes. “What makes you think you’re allowed to take stuff?” He snarkily shot back, only pushing me further into putting that straw into his freezing drink.
“Can we just admit that you’re also a shit roommate?” There was absolutely nothing stopping me from asking him that question, catching him off-guard as he snickered at the way I just said it, no hint of conscience in my voice.
“Never did I think that we’d have so many similarities till now,'' Theo admitted with a brighter smile on his face, holding the drink near me as I took a few sips from it. “... If you think about it, we’re the same.”
“I won’t disagree with you there,” I admitted as well, staring back at the living room as I let out a breathy snicker. “We make a pretty great team.” That was another first. I’m normally not like this unless the person’s got on my good side. Even assassins like us have good sides, but most of the time, they remain hidden in plain sight.
Instead of blaming the ones who did the dirtiest work, why not ask questions to those who gave them money to do it?
“Mom and Dad were also FNC employees,” He said it all so casually that I wasn’t even sure how I was going to react to it. Theo always comes up with the craziest topics to talk about. I think his calm and collected personality cancels out the weirdness in him. “I guess you could say that I was both a son and an intern during my high school years.” He crossed his arms, smiling at the memories he had before, as I only stood there, too startled to even say something back.
I felt sorry for him, but I didn’t know why. The emotion just came out like that. I can’t completely hold whatever I feel back.
My fingers unwittingly played with the top part of the glass straw, in a trance as I thought about how my life could’ve been if I were him. No trauma. No vengeance. No personal vendetta. It’s just nothing, and that disturbs me the most. “But when I watched the way you talked to Soul, I realized that I liked how…” He took a pause, turning to the side to stare back at me with fascination in his eyes. Like a scientist in the middle of a discovery. “... How normal you were.” Hearing him say that with a voice that sounded close to a whisper broke me. “Ever imagined a world where… we didn’t get to experience the things that hurt us?”
“Always.”
“Oh, we really are the same.”
He then pulled the beer can near him, taking a sip from the little opening, not caring if the end of the straw was touching his face. “I’ll go take a nap. Do whatever you want, just don’t make a mess.” Theo abruptly excused himself, but he still stood there, waiting for a response from me while I just looked back at him, finding it hard to turn away.
His face. It’s hard not to stare at him. Is it just me, or have I not realized how good he looks before?
Theo cocked his head to the side, another smile creeping up his face as if he was ready to tease me about it– whatever this was. “It won’t be long,” he reminded me, patting my right shoulder nicely as he later leaned forward, his face inches away from mine. Softly, his pillow-like lips grazed over my forehead, letting out a bit of a squeaky noise as I looked up at him, feeling my heart race faster. Was he drunk? Why am I freaking out? There’s no way he’s drunk. He knows it. He knows whatever the hell he’s doing, and it’s making my heart–
